Last year, I found myself with a rare week off from work, and miraculously, I ended up alone at home for a bit — or as close to alone as I could get. My partner, Jamie, had taken our two older kids out, and our youngest was napping.
If you were to ask me for my ideal getaway, my jokey response would be, “Just me, the TV, and a large pizza.” While it sounds funny, there’s a kernel of truth there. As a parent of three little ones, I often crave moments of solitude. I frequently imagine all the tasks I could tackle without the kids around. My house would surely be cleaner. I’d have time to work out. I could indulge in my favorite movies instead of endless reruns of animated classics. I might even read a book or catch up with friends, living a life that doesn’t revolve entirely around my children.
Many parents likely share these sentiments, and it’s not out of a lack of love for their kids — I adore mine. It’s just that there’s rarely an “off” switch in parenting. The longing for breaks becomes intense. However, when those moments of solitude finally arrive, an unexpected wave of guilt often follows. It’s a strange mix of feeling unproductive and somewhat negligent.
For instance, while Aspen was sleeping and the older kids were out, I decided to start a Netflix movie — a mindless action flick, a genre I usually don’t get to enjoy because Jamie isn’t a fan and the kids are far too young for it. Yet, as I watched, guilt crept in. I felt that I ought to be doing something else, but I wasn’t even sure what that something was.
This guilt resurfaces every time I find myself alone. I yearn for that time, and yet when it happens, anxiety takes over. I feel the urge to be doing something for my children or my family. Honestly, it feels like something is lacking when my kids are not around. It’s puzzling and a bit frustrating, and I can’t quite figure out why. I suspect it’s tied to the profound transformation that parenthood brings.
Having been a father for nearly a decade, I’ve managed to hold onto two main hobbies: cycling (though I can feel that slipping away) and writing. I write every day, but only in the early hours when everyone else is asleep to avoid feeling guilty or as though I’m stealing time from my family. If you don’t have kids, I understand it might seem odd to worry about carving out time for yourself, but this is the reality of parenting — it’s all-consuming.
My children are my everything. I think of them constantly, worry about them, and often write about them. It may sound obsessive, but it doesn’t feel that way to me.
I once watched a documentary titled “The Other F Word,” which featured members of iconic punk bands from the ’90s who are now fathers. One quote that resonated with me came from Flea, the bassist of the Red Hot Chili Peppers: “The classic parenting attitude to a kid is like, ‘I brought you into this world. I gave you life.’ But it’s like, I just think completely the opposite: My kids gave me life. You know? They gave me a reason.”
I can relate to that sentiment. Reflecting on my pre-kid life — the movies I watched, the long bike rides, the carefree hours spent with friends — I realize I was missing something essential. I didn’t truly understand what life was about. I didn’t grasp the depth of purpose or the value of struggle. The joy of teaching my son to ride a bike surpasses any pleasure I found in solo cycling. Helping my daughter learn to write brings me more fulfillment than completing a perfect essay.
This is why, when I finally have alone time, I feel unproductive. Parenting is so much more than any solitary hobby. It’s the most challenging yet rewarding endeavor I’ve ever undertaken. Even in moments of frustration, when I fantasize about escaping into the wilderness, I look back on those chaotic times and see the growth — not just for my children, but for me as well.
In the end, Aspen woke up while I was halfway through my movie. But that was fine — I had barely been paying attention anyway. I turned off the screen and went to her room. She reached out from her crib, her golden hair tousled from sleep, and I found her pacifier as she cried.
“Did you miss me?” I asked, and she reached up to touch my face, calming down.
“I missed you too,” I replied.
For more insights on parenting and family life, check out our other blog posts, such as those on home insemination techniques, which you can find at Intracervical Insemination. For anyone interested in artificial insemination, Make a Mom offers an excellent at-home insemination kit. Additionally, if you’re seeking support, Drugs.com is a great resource for pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary
Many parents experience guilt when they finally get the chance to enjoy alone time, a feeling that often stems from the all-consuming nature of parenting. Despite the yearning for solitude, moments away from the kids can evoke a sense of unproductiveness and anxiety. Ultimately, the joy and fulfillment derived from parenting surpass any solitary pursuits.