Sir Monkeypants has been down in Southern Ontario for a couple of days, helping his sister move. I can count on one hand the number of nights I’ve had all three kids without Sir Monkeypants being here. Those of you with spouses who travel regularly just threw up a bit, didn’t you? Trust me, I know how lucky I am.
A year or so ago, the thought of him going out of town would have caused me to panic. It wasn’t the physical work I was afraid of, the shlepping around of three kids to various events, the complex juggling act of getting all three into bed at a reasonable time. Rather, it was the mental stress that scared me – no one there to give you a break when you’ve reached the point of exhaustion, no one to get up at night with the third kid after you’ve already seen two of them, no one to tell you to step off, lady, when you’re turning into Mommy The Grouch.
This time, though, I knew everything would be okay.
Saturday was our day to carpool to soccer, so I loaded up one boy from each of the houses beside ours, plus one boy and two girls of our own – thank heavens for the minivan! – and took everyone to soccer. The boys were good, the girls were bored but we managed. Everything was fine.
When we got home, my lovely neighbour Lori, mother to one of the soccer boys, told me she hadn’t realized I was on my own this weekend, and now she was worried about us. How long would Sir Monkeypants be away? How was I managing? And did I want to send the kids over on Sunday, so I could have a break?
And you know what I told her? I was okay. And I really was. The kids were so good. They played together happily. They listened when I talked. They were happy to give me some computer time while they invented new games and created imaginary worlds and laughed uproariously while shooting each other during a video game.
I told Lori all that and she was amazed. Your kids are good, she said.
Trust me, I know how lucky I am.
This post is part of Brie’s Monday Moments series over at Capital Mom. This week’s prompt was Absent.