I have been alone in my house for approximately twenty minutes of the past four months. The longest time I have been “alone”, full stop, were the two times I’ve been in the hospital overnight.

The last time I had a realization like this – except for March 12, when I realized that that last day of school was going to be the last time I’d be alone, and gosh, I thought that was only going to be for two weeks – Momo was about ten months old, and I was sitting in a coffee shop ‘doing something for myself’ for the first time since she was born. It’s weird to be back here. And I can’t even go sit in a coffee shop, this time!

At least Momo is much older now, and I can close doors between us and be reasonably sure she’ll be alive. There’s just always a small mana drain whenever I’m “on duty” as the parent of note, even when it’s easy, and after four months it’s like… ah. It’s. Been a while, huh. I’ve taken to spitefully staying up way later than I should, because when she’s asleep it’s almost like I’m relieved of that responsibility for a moment.

And parents whose kids aren’t at that stage yet, whose kids need infinite attention and constant labour to keep alive? Y’all are the real heroes, gosh. We’re going to get through this eventually.