We’ve had our most thunderous fight since Ben on the topic of family planning (see "Four!"), and the lightening static lingers. Much as we love our progeny, I can’t say that things have been much fun between his parents. We’re well fed by our community; we get more sleep than many and are well supplied with excellent television on DVD. I’m off for another week of a whopping eight parental weeks. Yet a chasm stands between us, a big, lonely, echoey distance. Despite the dramatic image, we know that part of it’s normal for new parents. It’s all very mind-numbing, repetitive, anxiety producing and existential. I miss her. I miss being the one with the best claims on her most precious affections. I’m not actually jealous of Ben, since he’s got me too, hook, line and sinker. I just wish we could be more of a cuddle puddle, all three of us together, plus the cats of course. Or sometimes, just sometimes, that we'd puddle alone.