While happy houring is conducive to good parenting, it is essential to single parenting.
When my ex ran off to Florida with the mistress, there wasn’t much of an opportunity for happy houring. The kids were 5 and 7, and I couldn’t afford to go out, much less hire a sitter to watch the kids while I imbibed. So I did what most broke, stressed out parents do, and drank after I put the kids to bed. It wasn’t that I had a problem with drinking while my kids were in the room with me. It’s just that I had ZERO time to myself aside from the hour or two between the kids bedtime and mine, and I preferred drinking time and me time rolled in to one, happy little package. I ended up loving that time, and it was the only time of day that I truly looked forward to.
Fast forward 5 years and we’ve entered a magical time of life. It’s called, “The kids are old enough to be left alone for a while and you can have a life again.”
I love my kids with all my heart, but I honestly don’t know how us single parents get to this stage without offing the little fuckers.
When I’m out, I’m occasionally asked by other—clearly better parents, “Who’s watching the kids?” (You know who you are. Don’t think I don’t see the judgement in your eyes when I reply, “No one.”) So I’ve become good at reciting the justifications in support of leaving the kids alone:
- It’s perfectly legal to leave kids at home by the age of 8 in Maryland.
- I rarely leave them alone for more than 2-3 hours tops.
- I am usually right down the street (perks of living in Fells Point).
- I never leave them alone while they are sleeping.
- I am in constant contact with them via text when I’m away.
- I prepare meals before I go and never let them cook or shower when I am away.
- They aren’t allowed to leave the house or answer or open the door.
- Liam is in charge. No ifs, ands or butts. Serious consequences if Katy doesn’t do as he says, and serious consequences if I come home to find out he abused his authority in any way.
But I rarely include the biggest justification of all: If I don’t get out on the regular I will end up killing someone. These kids don’t just need me, they need me to be happy. And as much as I enjoyed the me time I used to have alone in my bedroom after the kids were asleep, it didn’t help me shake the feeling that my home was my prison during the rest of the day.
Yes I still feel guilty when I leave them. But not like I used to. Long gone are the days of seeking personal fulfillment within my happy home, along side my adoring spouse, experiencing unimaginable joy through the eyes of my wonderful children. These things are good and all, but it didn’t work for me, and it can’t be all that I cling to at the end of my days. I’m just not the kind of person who can let the world go on without me in it anymore.
So off to happy hour I go…