Home

If you're like me, you "share" your child. I have never gotten use to this term, but there it is. The judge, the court, the Friend of the Court, and the lawyers can use it. I don't.

From the start, it was very important that my son realized a sense of "home" when he was with me. We live in a small brick bungalow with two bedrooms downstairs. The studio/office is upstairs and, also occasionally spread across the dining room table, particularly during tax return season. One is mine. The other is his. All his. My son has complete ownership of this room. I clean it once a week and go sock hunting. He likes green. he really likes green and he picked the paint, the sheets, etc.  He picked what went on the walls and he even had a "no girls" sign on the door, though that's long gone. As far as the rest of the house goes, he absolutely has a say in matters, but we decide issues of decor in sort of a faux-democracy (it's more of a monarchy actually, but I am a fair and just King.) The fridge is covered with his stuff and the bathroom is a haven for a variety of play objects that float or do not. Also, when he is with me "projects" and "props" migrate out from their storage areas to find purchase in various areas in the house: Magic tricks in the kitchen? Sure. Hot Wheels track down the stairs? Why not. Hot glue gun on the Eames Storage Unit? NO WAY!

The important thing is that this is his house just as much as it is mine, and he knows it. He sits on the porch, rides his bike around the block, and works the microwave with complete confidence.

The Prince even got a fish to care for and look after.
It's the King's fish now.