Logistically Speaking

There are a lot of things about divorce I have found surprising. Some surprises are delightful, like extra free time, having my kids all to myself when they are with me, not having to check in with a partner when I make decisions, and living as I choose. Some surprises are less delightful.

I was a stay-at-home mom, so the vast majority of childcare and the running of the household were my responsibility. It has not come as a surprise that caring for three kids and a home on my own is, at times, all-encompassing. The part that can be overwhelming is the logistical legwork that comes with being the only adult on-site. I will say that I am very blessed to have an extremely responsible and independent oldest child (a shocking characteristic in a first born son, I know) and he really needs very little from me right now. However, when things get hairy, figuring out how to care for all three kids with two hands and one adult brain is quite the task.

In El Paso, I insisted the kids join a sport. All three went to the same school, so I signed all three up for track through the school, and their practices were mostly at the same time in the same place. The following year, I signed them all up for soccer through the school, and while the practices were all at different times, they were on campus and the weather was nice enough for the siblings who weren’t at practice to sit on the sidelines and wait their turn. Now, with budding likes, dislikes, and personalities, I’ve had a request for horseback riding, one for gymnastics, and one for fencing, of all things. All these activities are available in our area, but none of them take place in the same building, obviously. We also need to continue therapy for them to work through the Big Divorce (or DEE-borce as my six year old says) and I’d like them to have separate sessions so they can say whatever they’re feeling without worrying about being heard by siblings and Mom.

But…just…how. How can one adult be all those places? The kids used to pepper me with requests all at the same time and I used to say, “Mommy is not an octopus. I only have two hands.” I think about it frequently these days. When will the kids do homework and sleep if they are constantly sitting around at a sibling’s therapy session or after school activity? Activities for older kids are often scheduled later, which isn’t ideal for my youngest who loves her sleep. Even if we did one of these things every day for a week, three different activities and three therapy sessions, that’s six days out of seven, and they spend every other weekend with their dad on the other side of town. Seriously…how?

This weekend was a rather extreme example of how TF do I split myself into three parts and parent three children, as we made three trips to Urgent Care in three days. YES. It was a wild time. Friday, right before we headed out the door to go play with the neighbors, my oldest lifted his pant leg and said, “is this normal?” His left ankle was double the size of the right, bright red, and hot. He told me it was suddenly painful to walk. Urgent Care diagnosed an infected bug bite. We waited an eternity at the pharmacy for his medicine, while the two younger kids needed to touch everything and poke each other and generally cause a ruckus. In the car on the way home, my six year old moaned and said, “my ear hurts.”

Urgent Care was closed by then, so we decided to give it a night and see what the status of the ear would be the next morning. She’d had a cold, so I suspected it could be an ear infection, and sure enough, when she spent all night in my bed tossing and turning and holding her ear, an early trip to Urgent Care confirmed the infection. Again, we waited an eternity for the prescription to be filled and, again, my kids roamed the store touching everything in sight and fighting over who could push the empty cart.

My middle kid started suggesting reasons he would need to go to Urgent Care on Sunday since his siblings had already been, and I told him not to jinx it. Instead, it was kid number one with his first peanut exposure since age one sending us racing over, EPI pen in hand, to have the doctor listen to his lungs and let me know if I should stab him or if he would be alright without the pen, which usually requires a visit to the ER after injection. That poor boy went in twice for traumatic and unrelated incidents two days apart. Luckily, he avoided the stab and was able to recover with a hefty dose of Benadryl and a course of steroids.

For the allergic reaction, I was concerned we’d be sent to the ER and I did not want to bring my younger two children with us. Peanut exposures are extremely serious for my two boys with allergies, and I needed to be able to focus on my son. Mercifully, my sister moved closer to us a couple weeks ago and she jumped in the car to stay with my littles as soon as I called, bless her heart.

The logistical how can I be everywhere and tend to everyone all at once is the overwhelming part for me. I can do what needs to be done, I taught the kids how to make their own breakfasts, I make three different lunches, I cook dinner every night, clean and care for their home, keep up with their school events, and run the household easily, as that has always been my job. I don’t need help raising my kids, I need…more like a spotter. I can do the heavy lifting, but what happens if Mom goes down? What if I get the flu? What if I break my leg? What if fencing, gymnastics, and horseback riding are all only offered at 5:30 on Wednesdays?

I want my kids to have full lives and try new things, but I truly think this is the real reason for partnership. Sure, a companion through thick and thin would be super, even better if you love the person, but what parents really need is a pinch hitter in case of scheduling conflict or emergency. Sometimes it’s a real emergency, like rushing my kid to a doctor to make sure he will be able to continue breathing, and sometimes I just don’t want to take three kids under age eleven to a pharmacy for an hour of waiting and poking and teasing and touching and asking for candy. You don’t have to teach them anything, prepare elaborate meals, or help with homework. I just need a capable adult on standby for when shit goes down. Because with three young kids, it’s only a matter of time.