Solo Parenting and feeling like Superwoman
I did something big. I flew. In a plane. From Omaha Nebraska to Santa Barbara CA with my seven-year-old son and 9-month-old baby.
All. By. Myself.
The whole family flew out to Nebraska to visit with my in-laws. My oldest son needed to get back to school early so our plan was I would fly back with him and the baby and four days later my husband and daughter would follow.
On the way out to Nebraska, we couldn’t get seats together. My son and husband were about 10 rows in front of me, my daughter, the baby. About 30 minutes into the flight we were hit with some pretty bad turbulence and I almost broke out into a full blown panic attack.
I was able to breathe my way through it but it took about 10 minutes for my heart to stop pounding. My mind raced with terrifying “What if” ideas.
I looked down at the baby lying in my lap and was gripped with fear. My daughter asked why I was crying. “Just a little scared,” I said. I caught the eye of the lovely woman in the aisle seat who had been entertaining her and mouthed the words “Thank you.”
Once we got to Omaha I was fine and our visit was wonderful. The kids absolutely adore their grandparents and it’s always special when it snows.
As the week went on, the anticipation of my solo trip home started to weigh on me. The one thought I couldn’t shake was, What if I have a panic attack on the plane and I don’t know what to do with the baby and my older son sees me lose it my shit?
I had to get a handle on this.
I had a really honest conversation with my brother and he helped to reframe my fears. He suggested every time I thought, “What if something bad happens.” I should answer with, “But what if something good happens?”
When the time came to say goodbye to my husband and daughter I felt pretty good. I won’t tell you I wasn’t scared. I was terrified. I won’t tell you I didn’t think of every disaster scenario possible. I had them all memorized.
What I will tell you is that every time one of those ideas crept into my brain, I didn’t try to ignore it or chase it out. I said, Hello. Thanked them for coming and told them their services were no longer needed.
And you know what? Something good did happen!
I made a decision to turn the day into an adventure, and proceeded to act “as if.”
My seven-year-old looked at me kind of funny and said, “I don’t get why it’s an adventure.” I could have said, “Well, it’s the only thing holding Mommy together right now,” but I settled on, “Just roll with it, buddy.”
Acting “as if” is a simple way of saying “have faith.” It means making the decision to throw out doubt, suspend disbelief, and act as if it will all be ok. It won’t be perfect or turn out the way you think it should, but you will be ok.
A few times I caught the eye of other moms traveling solo. We gave that secrete telepathic mom look that says, “Do what you gotta do. No judgment. You’ve got this.”
My boys and I totally rocked it and by the end of the day, I was kinda feeling like Superwoman. I let go of all expectations and continued to act as if this was an adventure.
I could have cared less about screen time or healthy snacks. The baby got a full dose of immunity building germs from lying on the floor in the airport, on the plane, and just a moment in the bathroom.
To keep my tired baby happy I handed him empty water bottles, plastic cups, and pretzel bags to only have him fall dead asleep 5 minutes before landing.
As for me, I realized a couple of things.
Fist, my husband and I are making some pretty cool kids. Coached by my husband, my oldest son held my had for both take off and landing. The baby was handing out smiles to everyone he saw.
Also, people are kind. I handed my baby off to the guy sitting across from me so I could go pee. The ticket agent watched my son while I changed the baby’s diaper. A good friend met me at the airport to help me schlep all our crap to the car and get the kids in bed before midnight.
Most importantly, I learned I can do hard things.
Have you ever flown solo with your children? How did it go? Drop a comment and let me know.
Writing is my chosen medium of self-expression. I can’t draw or sew. I’m an ok cook and I can barely keep a garden alive. But I need to create. I write because the stories and ideas in my head are too loud to ignore. Sometimes, when I share my stories I help people feel less alone. If you enjoy following along please consider subscribing.
