I finally feel like I'm getting a groove going with this parenting-solo thing. I'm not going to call it single parenting, because I think that a huge part of what makes that difficult is living on a single income. But that's a tangent. I'm just getting the hang of things after two-plus months. I no longer dread doing dinner and two bedtimes alone. I get home, get the download from our nanny, finish dinner with Monkey while feeding Lion and myself. Then a few minutes of play, or dancing, or Valentine-making before Lion gets plopped into bed. Monkey hangs out while we do his routine, which is sweet. Then Monkey to bed herself, relishing her new pajama options.
What's more, I no longer resent not having anyone to talk to or sit with. Actually, I'm starting to really enjoy the silence once the kids are in bed. I get to pick my own TV shows - no more Military Channel! - or even just read quietly in bed without feeling compelled to wring some quality time out of the few hours we get after work. Or last night, when I had a marathon conversation with an old friend that was seriously invigorating. I never would have done that if hubbie had been home. Tonight I may DVR a movie that hubbie NEVER would have gone in for. Something sensitive and gushy. Or (gasp) introspective. Or with subtitles!
Now, of course, the problem is his life-sucking project is almost over. This is a great thing, and I'll be glad to have him back. But I will soon have to give up my new found independence, just when I've grown to appreciate it. Isn't that the way it always works?