Apologies one and all for the scarcity of posting recently.
As well as finally moving into our new home, literally over the street from Vince's school, my wife came over to visit for the summer holidays.
The last time we were all together was in April for my cousins wedding in Edinburgh and since then Vince has made a lot of friends at his new school, become a regular on the birthday party circuit and grown about a foot.
I've found a job, put on a little weight but am more relaxed/nonchalant about it than I've ever been, started running eight miles by and over the river Tees each weekend, started going to Speedway and Football with Vince, gained a new nephew, Lucas, and after six months have reacclimatised to life back in the UK.
What I haven't been able to handle well is turning 40,more on that later Mr Freaking Original, and living without my wife and Vince's mum. My parents have been and remain a big help here but it's taken some adjustment to becoming a temporary* single parent.
That's why this trip was so good for everybody. Vince and Stacey got to reconnect, she got to move into our new place with us, she got to finally meet Vince's friends parents but of course, after the jetlag had cleared and we were finally getting used to being around one another again, she has to return to the States.
Vince has taken it better than me. He can have his attention bought with toys, trips to the baths and playhouses and the promise of more toys but I'm struggling. It's not that I can't do this alone, it's I don't want to. Vince needing his mum plays better to the audience but I'm missing my best friend. Even with the miracles of Skype and social media, what happens to friendships, and even marriages, when they are unattended and atrophy?
Things have got real too quickly. I feel like the last man on a bobsleigh team who slips over, doesn't make it into the sled in time and careens down the slope on his backside while his teammates are snug, safe and whizzing on ahead without them.
If this is 40, you can damn well have it back. I don't want it.