So, hubby departed this morning, to the US for the week – and you’d really think that by now I’d be okay with it – but I’m not. I turn into a gibbering wreck, as if the idea of 5 nights without him is just so unfeasible… Parenting solo just feels like it will be so much harder.
The reality is that it’s not that much harder at all, I just don’t have anyone to share the gripes with – or anyone to talk to at the end of the day. A park run, a bookshop visit, a family dinner out – time passes with no issues, and everyone is still alive at the end of the day – the only real sign of success.
And so then, when I know I will get tired as I chase around at both ends of the day, with Breakfast Club drop off, and Nursery drop off, and car parking, and trains, and meetings, and then the reverse – what do I do? Do I rest up and go to bed early?
No, I clear my inbox, I start the Birthday and Christmas present lists, I look for holiday cottages, I do laundry, I clean shoes, pack bags… and get to 2240 and wonder what on earth I’m still doing sat downstairs at the computer.
So – I’m going to log off, go clean the day off my face, climb into the world’s best bed, write my one sentence journal, read some pages – and then miss the lump that is normally doing sudoku in the other side of the bed.
When I’ve made it through tomorrow, I’ll have reminded myself that it can all be done again… But for now, there is a small gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach that makes me feel like it all might just be a bit too much…