It’s summer. It’s hot outside. The general population usually goes on holiday to relax and spend quality time with their families and friends.
In this aspect of life, I’m no different from anyone else. I want to relax, chill out and forget about the everyday routine at least once a year.
Little O. finished school on the 12th of July, so we had our flight out of London booked for the 15th. Handling a 4-year old when he is busy during the day is difficult enough so just try to imagine trying to manage the very same 4-year old when he is not busy and nonetheless wakes up at 5.00 am, every morning.
The weekend before we left we spent shopping. I love sales, and I have to admit I feel I’m pretty good at it. Little O., on the other hand, doesn’t take kindly to any shopping trips. His concentration lasts, at best, for as long as I’m buying something for him. So, the shopping trip was on the verge of being stressful anyway. And on the top of everything that particular Saturday turned out to be one of the hottest days in the UK in recent years. We don’t have air conditioning at home so to spend at least half a day in a mall seemed like a good idea to me.
In reality, it was a real hard work trying to keep the little one in one place for half a day. Well, let me put it that way. We had way too many coffees, cakes and ice cream. However, we did manage to hang in there until 3 pm.
Little O. & I never travel to crowded places during the holiday season. We usually go to fancy places once the season is over, and there are much fewer crowds. Crowds are scary for both of us. So, we decided to spend a week together with Little O.’s grandparents, back in Poland. He was going to go to Poland for the summer one way or another, so in my mind, it was only logical to go for it.
Our flight was in the evening, but the Little O. remained faithful to his morning routine waking up at 5 am and by 5.30 am he was ready to walk out the door, to go to the airport. Apparently, I wasn’t even prepared to get up at such a crazy hour.
The day before I travel I usually freak out big time as I’m not a very big fan of air travels, to put it mildly. Because of the late flight, I had the whole day of freaking out to look forward on that Monday.
That morning was supposed to start with my ex. picking up the Little O. and taking him out for ice cream or a cake. Of course, it didn’t happen (Murphy’s law) as he happened to have his hands full with someone else’s kids. Typical right? All in all, I ended up hanging out with the little one in Blackheath Village.
Little O. was visibly upset and unruly. I had to keep bribing him with lemonade and ice cream to keep him calm. Well, I was pissed off & boiling on the inside ‘cos of his father’s stupidity, but for Little O.’s benefit I was trying to be composed and show no signs of any feelings (just like Nicole Kidman does these days in her movies) towards his dad. Besides, I knew that he was agitated ‘cos he didn’t ask even one question about his dad not turning up.
By the time we came back home, Little O. seemed to be getting excited about the trip. He even decided to repack, and I decided to open my email. You know, just to check, casually. I have to admit that my obsession and addiction to email is growing, so I think I’ll need therapy or something that would help one day. But not yet.
And… unknowingly I opened the gates of hell. I received several emails from my agent. All were referring to the project I was working on, and most of the emails made no sense at all.
The production company (no names here) decided not to pay me ‘cos they didn’t like the script I wrote for them. Taking into consideration that they took a very active part in the creation process and checked every draft I wrote, I found it a bit stupid. Ok, I found it ridiculous.
On top of this, my agent lost it entirely and decided that the best way to handle it was a lawsuit.
So now he wanted me to travel to LA ASAP and talk to the lawyers he was lining up for me.
While I was reading the emails my ex-called screaming his head off that I had no respect for his very precious time and asking me where the fuck we were when he was standing by the door two hours too late. I didn’t see any point in gracing him with my answer, so I didn’t say anything. My only defence was to slam the phone and start ignoring his existence altogether.
Little O. noticed that something terrible was going on, so he came over, hugged me and kissed me. That changed my whole perspective.
I was supposed to enjoy the time with my son, relax and get my creative strength back, not sweat over someone’s ego.
The production company will have to pay, sooner or later. The agent will have to go for being a total nuisance.
My ex. will have to learn that his time is not any more valuable than mine, and much less valuable than the Little O.’s.
That enlightenment lasted maybe for half a minute, but it was long enough for me to put myself together and leave all the negativity behind me.
As they say, real love concurs all, and there is nothing more real than Little O’s love for me.