Two weeks with my husband have come and gone. We managed to pack a lot into fifteen days. Disneyland. California Adventure. A birthday party for A. The new Avengers movie. A wedding.

How did it go so fast?

When we dropped him off at the airport on Saturday morning, there was a brief threat of red, watery eyes but no tears fell. I don’t know why it was easier for the kids, easier for all of us to say good-bye today.

Every day R and I would talk about how it would only be another year before he comes home without a return flight back to Virginia. Every day R and I talked about how much easier EVERYTHING will be once we live in the same house again. Less bills. More time with the kids. More time with each other.

I forget how much it sucks to be a single parent. How much it truly sucks.

I don’t know how single parents do it.

They’re amazing.

I feel very lucky to have a partner who is a partner in every single way. He respects the boundaries and rules I have established all by myself and enforces them without question. He does more than his share of cooking and will do half of the chores when we divy them up together.

Without him here, I do everything. I have a handle on it most of the time, mostly because I have started to delegate jobs to the kids. When I get overwhelmed, I decide to allow myself to feel the stress and binge on a bit of emergency chocolate or treat myself to a mocha. Only then can I suck it up and move on.