Co-Parenting During Coronapocalypse (And In General, My Struggle)
Said goodbye to my babies (how long til I’m not allowed to refer to them as My Babies???) yesterday afternoon.
It is ALWAYS hard, but feels even more painful during this coronapocalypse. I don’t know if that’s because we are locked in at home, so I can’t fill my days with busyness outside of this space, or what. But their void is louder right now.
Of course I get nothing done when they’re here, and everything done while they’re not, BUT STILL.
Now there is no going to see friends, booking as many sessions as possible —> editing those sessions, sitting in a movie theater by myself, going to the gym — it is all just quiet and alone. I enjoy being alone when I choose it, but not getting to really choose this adds a level of weird.
Off and on over the last few years I’ve struggled with sleeping — during high anxiety times, I can’t sleep. Now is one of those times. I have been taking melatonin off and on since January, and sometimes it only helps me for about three hours in the night. When the boys are home, I go get extra snuggles. But the nights they’re not home? I just lay there wondering how they’re sleeping at their dads.
Because their dad isn’t working (he’s a teacher) right now, and I am doing whatever I can from home, we changed up our co-parenting schedule.
They are in the Pre-School Age/Development category when looking at brains and stuff regarding what is best for them transition-wise, and we decided to do two nights here, two nights there, and back round again.
When we were first living separately, the time they spent with their dad was a reprieve of sorts. The boys weren’t in school, I had three daughters at the time through foster care, the boys + one of the girls were home with me full time, and they spent some afternoons/evenings with their dad — so the time they spent with him was valuable for my head as I needed to also process the weird transition. It was time spent grieving and feeling, writing through a lot of stuff, going to support groups, the like.
But now…a year and a half later… the days without them here don’t feel the same. It feels empty, like I’m missing half of myself. Sure when they are with me they drive me insane and make the house a mess and try to get on my nerves because they are mini terrorists. But I still want them here.
Something that may be a little unique to my situation in comparison to many others is that my kids’s dad is super involved, super good at being a dad, and all-in when it comes to his role as their dad. Like… he bakes with them, plans fun activities, buys all the cool toys, has new jammies (like paw patrol and super heroes!) for them super often; all those cool things a childhood could long for. He is able to provide material things AND himself.
When I am in my self-centered space, I get jealous and feel crappy about myself. It goes kind of like this:
While he is able to purchase lots of fun new things and clothes, I am over here excited to have been able to get a couple glues ticks and a new coloring book for them. While he owns a full on house he is remodeling, I live in a basement below some friends. While he has an entire garage of cool projects, I have a three tier shelf/basket situation crammed with markers and random papers. While he is a teacher and super good at structure and teaching, I am not any of those things.
I mean….he has tons of toilet paper because he got his butt right into Costco right away while I was ignorantly over here like, “ohhh it’ll be fine, this too shall pass, ya’ll are panicking for no reason” and now I have three rolls left.
He’s just put together, you know. Has an actual school schedule for them.
I’m wingin it, too chill, handing out chewy bars like they’re carrot sticks. In baggies.
HERE IS A THING:
A very real and present fear I have (embarrassingly often) is that as my kids grow older, they’ll realize what a loser mom they have.
Like… he has a REAL job and got a REAL BIG DEGREE with income coming in no matter what, EVEN during coronapocalypse. He OWNS his house.
Does their mom have a degree? Noooope, she dropped out of pre-nursing school to pursue church planting, marriage, and writing. What about a “REAL” job? Well not one she clocks in and out of from 8 am to 4 pm Monday through Friday. She makes coffee for people, writes words, takes photographs, sometimes speaks to large crowds, builds websites, and whatever else in between. Their mom definitely doesn’t own a house.
Look. I’m just over here being honest — I am not asking for anyone to comfort me or tell me otherwise — I know the truth in my head: I am not a loser.
But I am human with real insecurities that can eat at me just like you. Especially with all this quiet, alone, forced-inside time.
In my logical thinking, I am sure they won’t think I’m a loser…but also maybe they will, haha.
In my healthy-spaces, I know I cannot compare myself to their dad. Comparing does no one good, it only harms me and my ability to be fully present with them. Comparison is such a thief of joy and time!
I know our kids will benefit from how different their dad and I are… it can simply be hard to have, “I want to go to my dad’s!” thrown in your face by your four year old.
And I get itttt, I cannot take these things personally.
Typically I don’t, but sometimes I do.
Sometimes I get tired trying to remind myself all the things I constantly need to remind myself. But you know what I’m realizing? It’s more draining and tiring letting my mind run wild, into the depths of self-hatred and comparison.
Reality is, if we were married and in the same house, we would still be these same parents we are…it’s just that now we live separately and the whole “I don’t want to be here, take me to my dad” stings on a deeper level. If we were still in the same house, they may still throw the “I don’t want you, I want my dad!” stuff in my face, but since wanting their dad means literally leaving my home and going to another home…I don’t know. It can really get at my heart.
When we were married, it felt like a definite parenting-partnership. And though it doesn’t feel like (and isn’t) a competition between us, I hate the sting of those phrases thrown at me by an upset kid. I hate that it stings me, because deep down I know I can’t take it personally.
They are three and a half…and four. LOLZ. They just out here doin whatever they can, tryna get that extra chewy bar, you know.
When I get into my self-loathing and wondering if I will ever be in a place where I can buy my own house; buy them cool matching super hero jammies or Jordan shoes; bake with them again (I don’t have an oven!); not be so emotionally attached to OR grieving the life I had or wanted and simply truly live in this present moment..etcetera etcetera…
Heading down those rabbit holes and creating self-loathing is not good for us — just like comparing steals, so do rabbit holes of self-hatred. It steals from me, it steals from my kids.
I have to reel myself in.
Literally, I talk myself back into the present and current moment.
Right in front of me are two boys who adore their mom — and their dad! — and that is a beautiful thing.
I have two kids who are growing, learning, and changing.
They have two homes, with two parents who love them more than anything else, and that is a gift.
The fact that I don’t have to beg their dad to want a relationship with them like so many moms I know… what a strength for all of us.
The reality that their dad is dependable for them, on a schedule, consistent in his character, all these things — what a blessing for my boys.
We aren’t married. We’ll never be a whole family unit again. But the blessing of having two very active parents in two different ways is huge and I don’t want to take it for granted.
I am such a mess and I feel like I bleed it out everywhere, impossible for me to pretend my way through life. Their dad is just not that way, at all — he’s very much an Enneagram Type 5 so you can kind of get the idea. While I’m over here a Highly Sensitive Person + Enneagram type 4. LOLZ.
Reality is, we are dang good co-parents. We send each other videos here and there when it’s been a bit since the other saw our kids and we do our best to communicate about the important things regarding them. I’m super grateful for that.
I also recognize that when I allow my insecurities to take over, it’s super selfish — like how lucky that my kids have TWO cool + loving parents? Even if one is a total mess, lololols.
One day I hope my boys will see I’ve always worked really hard. Maybe I made things harder for myself, but I am trying my best to live as authentically to who I AM as I can. So many people don’t do that. And that..well that is something. I look around and many people don’t chase their dreams, don’t value themselves, don’t put up boundaries and say Enough Is Enough I Am More Than This. I am doing that and hope to keep doing that.
In my journey to learning how to love myself… I know I will gain more and more confidence in who I am. Our world hasn’t been kind to sensitivity or feelings, so it’s a journey to fight through all the messages saying I am not enough (or I am too much), but I will keep fighting.
That’s really what is at the core of these struggles: a lack of confidence in the person I am. A lack of love and appreciation for myself.
I am different from their other parent, and it is a good thing.
Sure, he has more material things together than I do, but it’s okay.
At this point, I can’t offer them a ton of material things, but I do get to choose to continue to offer myself to them.
It takes mental work, staying present and not checking out, but in those moments when we read books, trace letters, work on sight words, paint, have movie nights… my heart is full. I feel their hearts full too. I know they know I love them.
And that is what matters.
That they grow, knowing both their parents love them with their whole selves, no matter what, and without conditions.
