Always Together, Never Apart
Adapting to solo-parenting while one parent is away
I have never lived alone in my entire life, but I often wonder what it would be like. As a child I assumed I would establish myself as an adult before attempting to cohabitate with someone else because that is what I saw people doing in movies. I had a vaguely formulated idea of the independent life I wanted to create for myself, admittedly inspired by the overly-romanticized spaces single twenty-somethings always seemed to occupy on-screen. I wanted to create my own dreamy boho-chic home, tangled plants bathing in sweet light. I wanted to choose a space where I felt safe physically, spiritually, and creatively. Somewhere I could read and write and meditate. I wanted to play with tarot cards surrounded by vases of cut flowers, soft blankets and the smell of natural soaps. I wanted to maintain the tidiness of the space and fall into wholesome little routines in my introverted wonderland. I was not concerned about being lonely. After spending my younger childhood without siblings, I was used to being alone. I just wanted to give myself space and permission to become, in my own place, without an audience.
As a parent, I always have an audience. Most nights a small person climbs into the bed next to me. If we ever try to lock the bedroom door in an attempt at intimacy, it is almost guaranteed at least one of our three children will try the lock and, depending on who it is will either try to have a conversation anyway, bang on the door repeatedly while yelling for us, or start to cry. When I go to the bathroom someone will very likely try the door immediately after I lock it. Because they either followed me there or came to find me. Then they stand right outside the door and talk to me the entire time. This trait is not exclusive to my children. Adam and I have lived together for eighteen years. Almost thirteen of those years we have been raising a family. And my husband still follows me around from room to room in our house, although I am not entirely certain he is always conscious he is doing this. Sometimes I do an experiment where I run as fast as I can into one of the bedrooms and hide in the closest just to see if he is really following me or not. Moments later he will appear in the room after me, sometimes still looking down at his phone. Like a very slow predator in a scary movie. I can run as fast as I want, trip over my own feet, fall down, look behind me in terror- but he is always there, right behind me. He is always right here with me.
Which is why this week, when he is away on his first-ever business trip to Texas, I am completely thrown off. The introverted loner in me is doing just fine. I can always keep myself occupied and have zero FOMO, although I have to admit I got more than my fill of alone time during the vacuum that was the first two years of this decade. This is exactly what I have always wondered about: what it would be like to live alone as an adult. It’s like a controlled experiment. But the part of me that has not been away from my partner for longer than two nights in the last five years is a bit more apprehensive. I think I have everything under control but I keep worrying something is going to go wrong. I went from uber-confident mama to nervous babysitter in a matter of minutes. The amount of respect I have for single parents, which is already overwhelming, has come into sharper focus and increased exponentially. Not to mention I am hyper-aware of the fact that I am temporarily more vulnerable in my own home than usual, especially at night, as a single person with children. So, I keep my samurai swords close by (although carefully out of reach of small children). Beware intruder, I have multiple swords I do NOT know how to use, which is probably even more dangerous.
Hunting intruders in the backyard with a samurai sword since 2012
But it is the last week of school so we have enough to keep us distracted from missing each other too much. The usual last-minute preparations are happening, with cards to write and gifts to wrap and deliver. After many years of disorganized chaos that we will refer to as “practice,” I actually managed to get everything organized on time this year. The children helped me make a list of all their teachers, six for Ailey, seven for Alako, with a corresponding schedule of what days they see each teacher this week, so everyone gets gifts and cards before the last day scramble. The children missed school last week due to illness, so they are excited to see their friends for the last few days before summer vacation. Although we wish their dad could be here to celebrate the end of the school year, he will be back before we know it and I am doing my best to keep everyone busy and on track.
June, 2022
So, in a way I am getting a taste of what it is like to be on my own, albeit with three children. And when I look around my home, I realize I actually did create the home and life I had imagined for myself, it just looks different than my original fantasy because there are other people here with me. People who love me and make me feel safe in every way. I may not have the tidiest home because how can anything stay tidy when all occupants identify first as artists? I may not have quiet- not ever- but I have soft blankets, and vases full of flowers arranged by my love, and someone to snuggle, always. I may not have a home filled with plants (my green thumb is functional in OUTDOOR LIGHT ONLY. I kill all indoor plants), but I have roomfuls love. Every single room I’m in. That someone probably followed me into. Because they love me too much to let me look at my phone on the toilet in peace. And that is what it’s all about, isn’t it?