The Solo-Parenting Saga and an Unexpected Side Effect

My week of solo parenting should have come to an end on Wednesday night. Unfortunately, my husband’s home-coming has been delayed a couple of days and we’ll have to save the festivities for tonight.

The initial thought of another couple of days on my own should have made my heart fall down to my ankles but to my surprise…we’re actually doing pretty well over here. We’ve had two of the worst nights in recent memory with kids waking up and needing cuddles and such but we’ve survived. We’ve had meltdowns, frustration and the coldest weather so far this winter but we’ve found a different rhythm for ourselves. That’s not to say that we’re not missing our main man like crazy because we are, but to my shock and amazement, I’ve almost enjoyed this process.


The daytime stuff is status quo because it’s our usual weekday routine. The hard time is dinner hour when the boys are complaining that they’re bored and hungry and the baby is giving me some serious frownie brows every time I haul her kicking and screaming out of the bathroom before she can lick the toilet (not kidding…I wish I was) or climb into the garbage can. You know that time of day: where an extra set of adult hands comes in handy and perhaps a marginal adult-like attitude would be nice as well (yep…totally calling myself out here). But otherwise, we’re still here.

The part that I’ve enjoyed the most is the quiet evenings after everyone is tucked in to bed. Moments like the one I’m experiencing right now as I type these words. Quiet. Alone to do what I want. It’s downright blissful.

Here’s the thing: I’m an introvert. I love people but I have a threshold that tells me the exact moment where I don’t love people anymore and need some quiet time by myself. With 3 young kids, a husband and a coaching internship that demands a lot of energy, interaction and communication, finding that quiet time has been challenging. Truth be told, it’s tough not having those evenings to myself every now and then. Not that I don’t enjoy the other stuff because I absolutely do. All of it. It feeds a part of me in a way that defies words. But I’ll freely admit that I need to balance it out with some quiet as well.


So as much as I miss my man and though the ending to this solo parenting week may involve me pulling out my hair and cursing and endless stream of profanity, I’m choosing to hold onto this present moment of peace and quiet in case it’s awhile before I get to experience it again.