I grew up in small military towns, and my whole goal when I reached dating age was to avoid all of the military people. Because, I didn't want to date one and fall in love and then spend the majority of our relationship alone. While I admire and am thankful for their service, that kind of life doesn't seem like something I would be strong enough to live in.
Fast forward to age 28 and I live in a big city, and I meet a big man, and we fall in love and we have a big baby. Then he begins advancing in his weirdo job, and we have another big baby, and then we get a little dog, and another little dog. Then his weird job takes him away for days at a time, then weeks, and now almost a month. Whoa, Life! I did not sign up for this crap.
I spent the last 26 days alone with my two boys. Let's not forget our beautiful dogs, Weirdo one, and Weirdo Two. 28 days alone with 2 kids and 2 dogs should be no big deal. But, apparently I'm having a mental breakdown. Everything seems impossible!! In hindsight writing this it wasn't that bad, but in the moments it was the worst!
The first week everyone was discombobulated. Everyone missed the Dad. There were tears, there were colossal fits, I may or may not have laid in the middle of the floor stomping my feet on the ground and flailing my arms. No one wanted to adult, and by no one I mean me. It didn't help that communication with the Dad was little to non-existent this time around. You don't realize you miss it until it's gone. You don't realize how absolutely sad and depressed you get when a piece of your puzzle departs to another state. It's weird how just hearing their voice seems to calm you but when you don't get to hear it, that's when panic sets in, at least for little old anxiety riddled me.
So week one went by, and no one died. Then we had parent-teacher conferences, and no one died. Then I had a kidney stone. I was wishing I was dead. But, again, no one died!
By week 2 the old dog had given up all hope that the Dad was coming home. He finally emerged from his kennel and set about picking a new human. Around the middle of week 2 he backtracked on this thought and reentered the kennel, it is the end of week 4 and he still has not emerged. At least, not unless dragged from the kennel and placed outside to do his business. Then placed in front of food to make sure he doesn't die of starvation while his human is away.
Week 2 was also fall break. No one tells you the joy of spending 24 hours a day 7 days in a row with your children. These precious little beings that you created in your own body, are occasionally the thing of nightmares. These occasions usually occur on school breaks. But fall break came, and fall break went, and no one died.
I would like to tell you what happened week 3. But I don't remember. I honest to God do not know what happened to week 3. There was illness, that's right that's what week 3 was; illness. Some god-forsaken virus that entered our bodies and created tons of snot and bad attitudes. This carried over into week 4.
Here I am week 4, day 3. What can I say about this experience? First off, no one is dead. So, there is that. Secondly, support is important when navigating Parenthood solo (don't be afraid to ask for help). I feel like this would have been easier in my twenties, before social media, before I could read on the internet everything I am doing wrong. But, in the end my children still love me, that's a win! Plus, not to be a repetitive...
But, no one died.
4 more days to go.
Fast forward to age 28 and I live in a big city, and I meet a big man, and we fall in love and we have a big baby. Then he begins advancing in his weirdo job, and we have another big baby, and then we get a little dog, and another little dog. Then his weird job takes him away for days at a time, then weeks, and now almost a month. Whoa, Life! I did not sign up for this crap.
I spent the last 26 days alone with my two boys. Let's not forget our beautiful dogs, Weirdo one, and Weirdo Two. 28 days alone with 2 kids and 2 dogs should be no big deal. But, apparently I'm having a mental breakdown. Everything seems impossible!! In hindsight writing this it wasn't that bad, but in the moments it was the worst!
The first week everyone was discombobulated. Everyone missed the Dad. There were tears, there were colossal fits, I may or may not have laid in the middle of the floor stomping my feet on the ground and flailing my arms. No one wanted to adult, and by no one I mean me. It didn't help that communication with the Dad was little to non-existent this time around. You don't realize you miss it until it's gone. You don't realize how absolutely sad and depressed you get when a piece of your puzzle departs to another state. It's weird how just hearing their voice seems to calm you but when you don't get to hear it, that's when panic sets in, at least for little old anxiety riddled me.
So week one went by, and no one died. Then we had parent-teacher conferences, and no one died. Then I had a kidney stone. I was wishing I was dead. But, again, no one died!
By week 2 the old dog had given up all hope that the Dad was coming home. He finally emerged from his kennel and set about picking a new human. Around the middle of week 2 he backtracked on this thought and reentered the kennel, it is the end of week 4 and he still has not emerged. At least, not unless dragged from the kennel and placed outside to do his business. Then placed in front of food to make sure he doesn't die of starvation while his human is away.
Week 2 was also fall break. No one tells you the joy of spending 24 hours a day 7 days in a row with your children. These precious little beings that you created in your own body, are occasionally the thing of nightmares. These occasions usually occur on school breaks. But fall break came, and fall break went, and no one died.
I would like to tell you what happened week 3. But I don't remember. I honest to God do not know what happened to week 3. There was illness, that's right that's what week 3 was; illness. Some god-forsaken virus that entered our bodies and created tons of snot and bad attitudes. This carried over into week 4.
Here I am week 4, day 3. What can I say about this experience? First off, no one is dead. So, there is that. Secondly, support is important when navigating Parenthood solo (don't be afraid to ask for help). I feel like this would have been easier in my twenties, before social media, before I could read on the internet everything I am doing wrong. But, in the end my children still love me, that's a win! Plus, not to be a repetitive...
But, no one died.
4 more days to go.
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