As it stands right now, my husband and I live apart. It’s not by choice, though. In early fall of 2022, my husband assisted as my son and I moved from southwest Ohio to southern Ontario (I’m Canadian, as is our son). Until he becomes legal, my husband still lives in the States. For Easter weekend, my husband visited. While the visit went well, it wasn’t until he left early Tuesday morning that an ugly truth reared it’s head.
We do have a better support system up here than we had in the States, but it’s still not where it needs to be. There are individuals who are willing to watch my son when needed, even if it’s only during times on certain days (most of those who are willing to help do work during the week, so help watching him is limited to weekends and the occasional weeknight). The biggest thing, though, is help around the house. Yes, my son does help (he’s 5 and we have encouraged him to help when he shows an interest). However, when the vast majority falls on my shoulders, the mental toll it takes on you can sometimes become overwhelming. That extra pair of hands can be extremely helpful and gives that extra breather that has been missing (and needed). So when that extra pair of hands disappears, it puts that extra mental load back on you. The extra work isn’t necessarily the problem. It’s the extra mental that you’re now required to carry again because there’s no one else available to help ease the load as you now go back to juggling it all while trying to find time for yourself.
Island of Misfit Mamas 