Iโm just going to say it. Sometimes I wish I wasnโt a parent. No, Iโm not trying to get rid of my kids. And I donโt mean I wish Iโd never become a parent, or that I donโt want to be one ever again. I just mean that there are some days โ okay, weeks โ where the idea of not being a parent is really appealing to me. No answering a million questions a day, no organising smaller humansโ social lives, no school pick-ups, no making the same request over and over again.
I guess what Iโm trying to say is Iโm craving some irresponsibility. Yes! Thatโs it in a nutshell. I want to be irresponsible! And I know that begs the question: why canโt you be irresponsible and a parent at the same time? Because itโs a bit like asking the Dalai Lama why you canโt be Buddhist and pro-violence at the same time. Heโd look at you with his smiley face and say something wise like โWater cannot be a mountainโ. Or โYou cannot force an extra eye onto a two-eyed beast.โ Or something like that.
And maybe you wouldnโt quite understand him at first but youโd feel good anyway because, well, that smile. And donโt get me wrong, itโs not that Iโm afraid of responsibility. Iโm not. In fact, Iโm pretty good at it. But often it feels heavy. Really heavy. Like weight-on-your-shoulders heavy. Which is why I sometimes wonder what Iโd do if a genie popped out of a wine bottle and granted me the wish of a whole week without responsibility. (I must confess at this point that I have fantasised at times of it being a whole year. I trust youโll forgive me.) Not just a trip away for a week, mind you. An actual week where my kids simply didnโt exist, and my mind was temporarily wiped so that I wouldnโt remember them either. As an anti-guilt measure. Just for that week. Oh, come on guys, I canโt be the only one who disagrees with Bridget Jonesโs assessment of โAll By Myselfโ? No, Bridget! I do want to be all by myself! It could be our anthem!
So what would you do? I know what Iโd do. Iโd read at least 15 books uninterrupted โ except by the woman in reception reminding me of all the spa bookings I had. (Did I forget to mention Iโd be in a 7-star hotel?) Iโd sleep a lot. Eat even more than that. (Remember the guilt-free clause?) Swim in the sea โ after leaving the required time after meals (I wouldnโt be that irresponsible!). Run lots of loooooonnng baths. Meditate. Daydream. Remember who I am.
And when I returned to my normal life, Iโd bring her back with me. (No, not the woman at reception, that would be silly. Besides, she probably has her own family to attend to.) I mean me. This woman. Less burdened, more fun. With a twinkle of irresponsibility and quite possibly a new haircut. (Because Iโd have all that time to get it done.)
Relaxed. Rejuvenated. Responsible.
Well, until the next time!
Want to read more from Expat Living’s parenting columnistย Orla Breeze? Find out why she thinks there is aย baby conspiracyย and asksย are we making our childrenโs lives too complicated?
This article first appeared in the December/January 2017 issue of Expat Living magazine.ย Subscribe now so you never miss an issue.
