Long ago when Daughter was, I believe, around two years old I “had to” take a trip with her all alone. I say had to because I was sort of terrified to do the trip without Husband. Still, I wanted to see my family out east and he couldn’t get time off, so I decided to go for it. The series of fears that I had upon embarking on our first alone adventure was a huge list. How would I handle being with her on the plane? What if she got scared and cried really loud? Could I do the constant potty thing alone? No one would ever be there to relieve me! How do single parents do it? I’m not nearly as entertaining as Husband. What if I lost my temper or had a panic attack or gave in to her too much or was too strict?
Of course, as I’m sure you predicted, the trip was completely fine. There were bumps along the way that I honestly don’t remember much about. She listened to Husband sing to her each night before sleep and saw his face (thanks, iPhone!) to smile at as she got into bed. It was a good trip. I did it! And then I did it again. And again!
This past week I took Daughter on what was our seventh ever trip, just the two of us. We were visiting family but had a good overnight in a city and exploring the next day. All of the fears I once had have gone, and now I look forward to my special times with her. We do things we wouldn’t normally, explore more, laugh louder, talk more openly. There are so many wondrous things that happen in the silence between us on these trips, too, and we learn more about who we really are as mother and child. I’m grateful every day that I have a husband who lets us take these trips together and honors them without resentment or jealousy.
Looking back I cannot believe I was ever afraid to take a trip with Daughter alone. They’re going to be the days I remember when she’s grown and j really hope they are the same for her.