I was so frightened and crap when ExH first ran away, that I seriously thought about having DS adopted - by a 'proper' family, so that he could have a 'proper' dad.
I was permanently exhausted, and fretted constantly about how the hell ds would manage to do his maths homework as I cannot do maths, or anything scientific, so was convinced that I would fail him, let him down, ruin his future, make him an emotional wreck...god, everything. I just thought he had no life chances being the only son and only child of an older mother - with no blood relations at all. [aaaaaagh]
But time has passed. Now I see things so differently. He is polite, kind, wise, hilarious, very boyish, happy and kissed and hugged by me a hundred times a day; he knows when he is in trouble and he apologises. Usually.
He likes ice-cream and the swings, birds, insects, our dogs and cat, and loves his childminder - his friends there rush to see him when he arrives and all help him with his shoes and coat.
I think I am doing a damn fine job actually.
The book I remcomended below did really help me get a perspective on things.
My life went from being a car crash to being a marvellous adventure in a bumpy old camper van with my little travelling companion.
I hope he turns into a tall-ish, robust, confident, sociable, sometimes naughty and impudent, hard-working, literate, ambitious, happy, thoughtful caring and wild-within-reason young adult.
If he doesn't, well, I tried and am trying my best. Nobody can ask any more of us LPs..
The irony is, I come from a large family (four siblings) and parents who remain married after 60 years.
But I am only in contact with my oldest brother.
'Proper' Families aren't all they are cracked up to be you know.