A Love Letter to All the Moms (and Dads) Who Go It Alone

E has been gone for three weeks now for job training (which is part of the reason you haven’t heard from me). He has eight weeks to go, and then we move to Tennessee. His new employer is covering both packing and moving services, which is a mercy. He also gets a week off so that we can find a place to live when we get there, which is another mercy. We have a friend-of-a-friend who is a realtor, so hopefully it won’t take long to find a suitable rental house. Lots of blessings, people. And I’m grateful.

But.

This solo parenting gig is for. the. birds.

I honestly never realized how much easier E makes my life just by being here. He is my wing man. If I’m in the middle of chopping onions for dinner and L announces she has a stinky Pull-Up or she is wet and she absolutely can not take another minute of what we call Squishy Butt, he handles it. If I am busy kissing a boo-boo and the pot on the stove is about to boil over, he gets a spoon and stirs it into submission. When the trash is overflowing, he takes care of it. When company is imminent and the carpet has yet to be vacuumed, he turns into Vacuum Man. Yes, I take care of most of the household responsibilities on a regular basis. But E fills in the gaps. He helps with laundry. He unloads the dishwasher. He cleans one of our  two bathrooms. He gives L her bath and helps clean up after dinner. He also handles vehicle maintenance and most handyman jobs.

But for this eleven-week training season, I’m basically going it alone. He gets to come home on weekends, Friday night through Sunday afternoon, but most things just can’t wait for Friday.

And friends, it’s hard.

L is at the age where she wants constant attention. She doesn’t want to compete with dinner or laundry or phone calls or anything else. This makes it really tough to get anything done around the house because I work full-time at a job for which I am paid a salary. Monday through Friday, 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. Yes, I can run the dishwasher and maybe throw in a load of laundry, but that’s about it. I am mostly anchored to my computer and office phone. I pick up L from preschool at 5:15, and then we’re off and running until 8:30 p.m. Dinner, bath, snuggle time, bedtime. At 8:30, when she’s finally tucked in for the night, all I want to do is crawl into bed myself. There’s not much energy left.

Not only is solo parenting hard, it’s lonely. 

I miss having an adult in the house to share eye rolls with when L throws a tantrum. I miss sitting down to dinner every night as a family of three. I miss our post-bedtime chats on the couch and watching the latest episode of Big Bang Theory together. Maybe if I worked in an office, it wouldn’t be so lonely. The one downside of working from home is that the only adults I see these days are L’s teachers, and that’s for a grand total of maybe five minutes. It’s not enough to fill my tank. Yes, I Skype. Yes, I have a phone, and I use it. But nothing can truly replace face-to-face interaction. Because of my job, I can’t do the same stuff SAHMs do to get adult interaction. No MOPS. No play groups. My family and besties are hundreds of miles away.

I’m not writing this to whine. Really, I’m not. My season of solo flight will be over eight weeks from now. As much as I’m not enjoying it, I’m thankful it’s temporary.

I’m writing this because I want to say to all the moms – and dads – out there who do the grind alone day in and day out because they’re single or military spouses or their significant other works third shift, and also to the parents who fly solo even just for a week or two once in a while when your spouse is on a business trip – I get it. I see you. You are heroes.

If I could, I would stop by with your favorite Starbucks beverage and then sit at your kitchen table and just listen until your need to talk to a live human has been sated. I would offer to babysit for a few hours so you can get your hair done. I would bring dinner so you can put your feet up for an evening instead of cooking. I would offer to do your grocery shopping.

Parents Who Go It Alone, I know you probably feel invisible to some degree. Some lovely people at my church organize meals whenever a family has a new baby or someone is really ill, like recovering from surgery. And while those gestures are wonderful and they’re definitely ministries we need to engage in, families with new babies or medical upheavals aren’t the only ones in need of TLC. Jesus instructed us to care for widows and orphans, and while not all solo parents are widows, they are still burdened. They could probably still use some TLC. They would probably just be grateful for a phone call to ask how they’re doing, and if there’s any way you can help.

Realizing this made me wonder what kind of job I’ve done in the past at recognizing the needs of the those in my own circle of friends or in my family who have gone through seasons of solo parenting and household management. If you are one of them, and you felt invisible, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how you were probably feeling. I didn’t realize that a simple phone call or email to say, “How’s it going?” might be exactly what you needed. But my eyes are open now, and I’ll try to do a better job of loving you. And when the rest of us fail, I pray you’ll feel the loving arms of our heavenly Father around you, because He definitely won’t fail you.

Mercy & grace~

Photo credit: https://www.flickr.com/photos/drinksmachine   License: Creative Commons