Ian rolled out of bed a little later than usual this morning and shuffled into the kitchen where the kids were cleaning up after breakfast. As he reached for the coffee pot he squinted against the bright lights and grumbled, "Why the hell aren't you kids in school? Everyone else I know with kids starts back today."

This prompted the kids to scatter to find the loudest activities possible with which to annoy him. Kevin had to practice his drums. Rachel the piano. Alex started playing a video game at a louder than normal volume. This was intentional and designed to get a response from their father, but he didn't bite. He just sat down at the table and began planning out their day, which was going to begin at the dojang--as soon as he was awake enough to get up and get dressed. (He's moving in slow motion, though, and I think it will be after lunch before we get out the front door.)

All three of the kids test this weekend and they've all asked him to help them step up their training a notch; I think they realize that this could be the last rank test they take with him as the test proctor (or possibly ever; they all have other interests now) and they all want to do well. It's like this is one last chance to spend that kind of time with him; while they each want to dabble in other things--dance, music, sports, school clubs--I think they also understand that it won't be the same as hanging around the dojang every afternoon. For all their lives TKD has been a constant, and they've grown up with it but also having one or both parents right there, and the things they want to do now are things we can drive them to, but not participate in.

Ian is right, too; the longer I'm away from teaching and training, the less I care about getting back to it. I'd like to see the kids stay with it even on a part time basis, but there's nothing more I need from it. If I go back it will be to get back into shape and maintain my skills, but I don't feel the need to spend so much time with other people's kids and think that spending that time with my own, my attention undivided, would be the better thing. I'm not missing the business side of the dojang, either, dealing with stubborn parents and disconnected students, and all the minutiae of keeping it afloat. I was seriously upset when I was told I would be out of training for a year, but now it doesn't seem as important.

So the test this week could be the last one any of us participates in. Ian and I will both make ourselves available to sit on testing panels, but that might be it. So today I am going to go over to the dojang and watch my husband torture our kids and help where I can, and remind myself that while I love TKD and have loved teaching over the years, I'm ready for us to move on to whatever is next.

I think whatever is next starts with convincing Ian that he's not a paternal failure if he doesn't have a "real job." That has to be a guy thing.