Our family isn’t in the best financial shape for extravagant getaways, so this past spring break, we decided to embrace a “staycation.” I was determined to make it unforgettable.
I pitched the idea to my kids: a day at the local amusement park, another in the city, and each child could choose their favorite park to explore. I offered up ideas like picnics, sidewalk chalk art, mural-making, and even some science experiments.
“What do you want to do?” I asked, trying to sound as enthusiastic as possible. I genuinely wanted to create a memorable staycation.
“Um…” my 9-year-old, Jake, replied, “I want one afternoon to play Monopoly with you because you always say you’ll play, but you never do. And I want to spend another day finishing that play script Daddy and I started a year ago but never finished.”
Wow, talk about a curveball! As a parent of multiple children, there’s always a nagging sense that we’re not giving each child enough one-on-one time, but hearing it directly from Jake was a wake-up call.
I felt a mix of pride and guilt as I recalled when he was just 5, and I was pregnant with his younger brother. I longed for him to have a sibling, but I also feared our special bond would vanish in an instant. Those hours spent playing games, reading, and creating art together felt like they were on the verge of disappearing.
And honestly, I was partially right. I still cherish the moments we have, crafting and baking together, but often, his little brother, Ben, tags along, causing chaos—like knocking over the mixing bowl or splattering paint on Jake’s masterpiece.
Sometimes, I worry that Ben is getting the short end of the stick. While I’m at home with him while Jake is in school, our routine is a far cry from the leisurely days I had with my first. We wake up at dawn to get Jake ready, run countless errands, and I’m just plain worn out, making it hard to be the fun mom I want to be.
I know I’m not alone in this struggle—many parents with multiple kids experience this guilt about not spending enough quality time with each child.
I don’t regret having more than one child. Even though they squabble just as much as they play together, I know they’re forging a bond that will last a lifetime. They’re learning valuable lessons about flexibility and sharing, even if it feels like I’m constantly juggling their needs.
Yet, I can’t shake the feeling that I want to do more for each of them. I yearn for those moments when I can focus solely on one child, engaging in projects and conversations without the distractions of sibling dynamics.
It honestly breaks my heart when I dwell on it.
Jake and I did manage to carve out an afternoon for Monopoly. My husband entertained Ben with superhero antics while Jake and I retreated to his room. It had been ages since I played, so Jake guided me on which properties to snag and how to strategize my moves. I was genuinely impressed by his quick math skills during our money exchanges.
Our game wasn’t anything out of the ordinary—it was just a simple afternoon filled with laughter, playful punches, and the warmth of connection. However, as dinner approached, Ben began to cry, cutting our game short.
Before we left the room, I closed my eyes, inhaling the moment. I was transported back to when it was just the two of us. That feeling was almost tangible.
As we packed up, a pang of guilt hit me. “Sorry we didn’t finish the game,” I said. He shrugged, “It’s OK, I pretty much won anyway.” I told him I had an amazing time, and he replied with a shy smile and a soft “me too” as he darted off to join his brother.
Maybe this is just how it has to be for now—imperfect moments that happen in snippets. I believed Jake when he said he had fun, and I could see his mood lift for the rest of the day.
I hope that what my kids will carry with them from their childhood will be these moments of joy and connection, rather than the times we fell short.
I’m committing to more afternoons like that with both of my kids. There’s no need for extravagant plans; simply being together is what truly matters. I’ll also give myself a break when I feel like I’m not spending enough time with them. Even the smallest moments can mean the world to children—after all, they’re big deals in their eyes.
Yet, I know I’ll always have that nagging feeling that it’s not quite enough, and I suppose that’s just a part of the parenting experience.
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Summary
Balancing time among multiple children can be challenging and often leads to feelings of guilt for parents. This article reflects on the bittersweet nature of parenting, with moments of joy mixed with the struggle to provide individual attention. Ultimately, it emphasizes the importance of cherishing even the smallest moments together, as they can leave lasting impressions on children.