Fences (or why parenting sucks from 5-8pm)

Lately, I’ve had the recurring fantasy of living in a commune.

I don’t know what that means exactly but I picture it as a group of nice people who share utility bills and help raise each other’s babies. I imagine it must be the “village” that everyone refers to when raising children. Oh, this explains why no village magically appeared after I had a baby; I haven’t moved to the commune yet!

I’m a single mom to a toddler who I utterly adore. Every morning, I snuggle her, gulp in the smell of her hair, kiss her baby soft cheeks and let my love for her wash over both of us like a wave. Then, every day from 5–8pm, I hate my life. I loathe all the things that I must do — dinner, dishes, pick up the toys, pack the lunchbox, bath, jammies, brush teeth, read books and the endless dance of bedtime that involves some version of singing-rocking-going upside down-iced water-”NO MORE SNACKS!”-essential oils-”tender talk”-counting backwards-prayers-kisses-MOMMY IS LOSING HER PATIENCE SO GO TO BED NOW!

I know I’m not an anomaly which means we have a broken system. I am of the mindset that if it’s broken, fix it. If it could be better, make it better. So my curse is constantly searching for a different way of doing things so that parenting and life are filled with more ease and joy. I’ve tried outsourcing loads of chores. I’ve contemplated eating only on paper plates. I’ve wondered about living in a hotel. Maybe a hut in Mexico with not one square inch for toys. I’ve considered trying to convince my parents to get a house together and do the whole multi-generational living thing, but then I would live with my parents.

I wonder if perhaps my inherent problem is that I believe life with small children should be filled with more ease and joy. Maybe it’s not meant to be easy or joyful, and we just need to accept that this part of life is hard.

There is merit to acceptance ending the pain of resistance, but even as I write that possibility, I’m shaking my head. That can’t be right. Because you know who else hates 5–8pm every week night? My friends with 10-year-olds. I refuse to accept this part of life is hard for a DECADE.

Yesterday, I had a realization. I was in my car at a stop sign. A young woman was crossing the street and another car — out of either pure selfishness or a complete lack of situational awareness — blew through the crosswalk. The young woman barely slowed her step and then casually flipped a double bird in the direction of the long gone car. I chuckled and waited to catch her eye, so I could give her the knowing, “I hear ya, sister” nod, but she never looked up. She just kept walking, her head hung low.

I don’t think this is actually a parenting problem. Parenting just makes the need greater and more apparent. I’m starting to think that our real struggle is lack of human connection and support that comes from true community.

Our world has become increasingly disconnected. Social media, politics, the pandemic…it all breeds distrust and divisiveness. We are lonelier and on edge as even the shared reality fabric of our society has begun to unravel.

I so desperately desire deep connection and steadfast community with others. At the core of our humanity, I know we all do.

And still, I hear the nail guns of my neighbors building taller fences. They may be tree-lined and painted white but they still scream: KEEP OUT. WE’VE GOT OUR OWN SHIT.

I can’t help but wonder what would happen if we stopped living among each other in our own individual worlds. If we took down the safe, separate cubicles of life and collaborated in open space.

Life would still be hard and 5–8pm may still suck, but maybe there would be less suffering knowing we’re not alone. Maybe true support of community would lift the weight of crushing responsibility just enough that we don’t need our double birds at the ready when we go on a walk.

Let’s stop building fences. Let’s commit to having conversations deeper than the nice weather we’re having or how awesome Ted Lasso is (which OMG it is!). Let’s stop driving around our cities like we’ve finally been hunted down by the police when we’re just going to Whole Foods. Let’s understand what the people in our lives truly need and give it to them, not as a favor, but because it’s what we do.

Everyone is in the hard. Perhaps, if we’re in it together, hard will make way for ease and joy.