My realtor advised that I leave, take the kids and dogs, and get out to stay with my folks so it would make the selling process easier. So I did the long drive with two kids and three dogs and moved into my grandma's house while we listed, sold, and moved out of the house. I don't know if she realized that me staying with my folks so the house could sell easier meant being 20 hours away from my co-parent. But it did sell fast, so that's a blessing.
Now, I'm certainly not alone, not by a long shot. Between my grandmother and her husband picking up after us and occasionally feeding us, not to mention running to the grocery store, I feel like I shouldn't complain too much. Then there's my mom and dad not even a hundred yards away from my grandma's to help out here and then too, and a few tens of feet from them, an additional refurbished garage with my sister and her husband, their two kids, and my younger brother. And of course, ever busy, but always willing, my younger sister, who lives just 20 minutes away, 10 if you speed and there's no red lights.
Even with all these wonderful people around to pick up the slack, turn to in times of need, and avid babywatchers, I NEED my husband. Because for every other person here, their help is optional. Their needs will always come before mine or my kids, which is fair and right and despite some surprise and disappointment, I have realized that my expectations on them (specifically my mother) were ridiculously overwhelming.
Bedtime routine is always thrown off by someone else. Three separate households means anyone and anything can be found at any time in any different location. There's never one set plan, one set house to hang out at, or one schedule to stick to. If I need something, I have to ask for a favor. I have to be ready to give something in return for a 20 minute break from holding my 5 month old. They are always gracious, loving, and mostly willing. But everyone needs breaks from each other now and then and I have no where that is just mine. I sleep with my infant, shower with my toddler. There are always someone else's fingers in my food and water. I have to share every little part of my day with two precious babies.
And I am about to lose my mind.
It's not just parenting alone. It's also being in someone else's house. My toddler insists on opening the door EVERY time I'm on the toilet. We're also in the middle of potty training, so accidents have been happening. My 3 dogs compete with the 3 dogs who already live here for dominance, love, attention, food, water, and who can terrorize the goats, chickens, and horses the worst. Not to mention the littlest dog suddenly got the poops and rather than let her stay out in the "cold" (its CA. We've just come from SD. THIS IS NOT COLD), my grandma has insisted she stay in her walk in shower, and two days of dealing with THAT nasty mess, my lovingly misguided grandma decided that it was time for me to put my dog down!! (I didn't. I took her to the vet and got her on some diarrhea-stopping meds and food.)
It's only been a month. I can only imagine what it must be like for single moms and dads, widows and widowers, people forced to do it alone all the time. Maybe its almost easier in some ways, because if you don't expect the help, if you know no one is going to come strolling through the door at 6:00, then you only have your own schedule to keep, your own routine to follow, and your own expectations to fulfill. Or if you work, that's kind of your break in some weird way. You get to be human again. You get to just be yourself and not a pair of boobs to feed to your spawn. But mostly, I think it is just awful, lonely, hard, stressful, and dehumanizing in a lot of ways. I haven't really gotten a break to just be myself, thinking my own thoughts and eating MY OWN FOOD WITHOUT SOMEONE ELSE'S SPIT ON MY FORK.
My husband leaves this Friday to begin the drive across the country to us. Unfortunately, he's taking a detour to drop his mother off in his home state and have a short visit with his family. I know I shouldn't. But I resent this delay in his arrival with every piece of my being. I have been doing this alone (yes, even surrounded by people, the kiddos are 100% my responsibility 100% of the time) for 30 days and will have to continue for another 4.
Better sign off there. My 2 and a half year old will be in as the sun crests over the horizon to jump on my head and the baby is crying for boob. God grant me strength.
