Tidings of comfort and joy

Being a non-parent is so fleeting sometimes.
As a real parent, once you've become it for the first time, you'll always hold that status. When they grow up, move out, get married, even if a child sadly died, it still leaves parents.
I'm a non-parent on weekends and I don't get to be one now for the next three weekends.
Matt's on a boys' weekend in Oslo next week and Isobel is staying with his sister.
Her mother doesn't let her stay with me, which we found out in June half an hour before I was due to set out on the hour and a half journey to pick her up.
Matt texted me from Spain : "She says she comes to see me and if I'm not there then she's not coming."
He doesn't fight with her because that's what she wants.
I have to admit I had been surprised she'd appeared to agree in the first place. But she's not stupid and knows leaving it until the last minute hurts more.
I threw the bag of toys and books I'd bought on my lunchbreak in the boot of my car, went home and cursed them both.

This weekend he and I are holidaying in Prague so I won't complain about that. We miss her, and the Christmas markets with pretty frosted lebkuchen, wooden toys and massive Christmas trees dripping with lights would make her grin so widely she might swallow them. But I don't think it's fair to take babies on aeroplanes just because I want to go on holiday.
At least when they're older you can stick them a Werthers' Original if their ears start to pop.
Another sharp criticism of parents or am I just bitter we wouldn't be allowed to take her away anywhere if we wanted to?

Next weekend I planned to counteract the hole left by Isobel in Prague with a trip to Lincoln Christmas market. 
I booked the hotel. It would be our little family Christmas because we won't get to have her on the day.
Christmas is always going to be tricky.
I've made sure I'm working Christmas day and as much as possible over the period so Matt can go see her without guilt if he wants.
I asked Matt if maybe we could have her both Friday and Saturday night, as a trade for Christmas. He said he forgot to mention it, but coincidently her mother is now taking her away for the weekend.
He doesn't fight, it's easier that way. He says we'll still go, but I don't want to stomp around all day with the hole felt in Prague just getting bigger.

A familiar ache burns in my belly. This selfish control-freak wonders how the hell the two most important parts of her life came to be under complete control of someone else.