Panic. I was not prepared for the slow onset of horror when I realized that there was a nearly three-week gap between when my 4-year-old’s summer camp ended and his school year began. I imagine that seasoned parents are shaking their heads at this rookie mistake, but as I was until very recently a stay-at-home parent, I was caught off guard by this error in my planning. In my defense, it seems illogical to have such a large window built in between camp and school, but that’s just my humble opinion.
Thankfully, my ex-husband and I moved back to Memphis, my hometown, last year not only to bring our child up in a more diverse environment, but also because I have family and close friends here. Since the day my son was born, almost five years ago now, the old adage “it takes a village to raise a child” has been reinforced in my mind at almost every turn. If I can’t find an available summer camp in the next two weeks (a scenario which seems highly likely), then I will be able to turn to the community I have built around myself for help. Only a few months ago, I was able to provide this exact kind of assistance to a friend who seized an opportunity to return to the workforce.
I grew up surrounded by a horde of younger cousins. I’ve always loved children, and taking care of them came naturally to me, even when I was still a child myself. When I was pregnant, it always irked me how so many people would make comments about how I “wouldn’t truly know love” until my baby was born. The sage nods and knowing glances that usually followed these kinds of remarks did nothing to soften the inherent condescension. Then: My baby was born and I learned that all those people were kind of right. I think it’s more accurate to say that the love for your child is different from any other love. It’s more consuming. Less rational. It’s a shame there’s not a specific word for it in the English language.
Even with this all-consuming maternal love, there’s another thing I would never have really understood until I experienced it firsthand. Being a stay-at-home-parent is hard. Not only is it hard, there are quite a lot of people who seem to look down on parents — and especially, in my experience, moms — who stay at home. It doesn’t matter that childcare is so expensive that often staying at home might actually be a smarter financial move. It doesn’t matter that an au pair or nanny is a paid position and even career. Personally, I’ve gotten the impression that by choosing to be a SAHM, I’m somehow letting down the feminist cause. I think this is ridiculous, but the subtext has been present too many times for me to ignore.
With that in mind, transitioning back to working full-time was still pretty seamless for me. Because two of my child’s four years at home with me were in quarantine, we are both reaping the rewards of the simple socialization that comes with work and school. There have been hiccups (like when my son tested positive for Covid on the exact same day that I learned the vaccines for children under 5 years old were finally approved), but on the whole, I think we’ve done okay. This is in large part due to our collective “village.” Having family and friends encompassed into the structure of our daily routine is something that seems healthy and even essential to me. Maybe it’s a post-pandemic mindset, but my perspective is that my son will benefit from having different people influencing his childhood. It wouldn’t have occurred to me, for example, to show him the somewhat controversial clip of Phoebe Bridgers smashing her guitar on SNL, but he certainly agreed with his uncle that it was cool.
It’s funny how juxtapositions can occur within our lives. Becoming a single parent (half the time) only reinforced my stance that my child needs a more diverse framework of people in his life. Becoming a stay-at-home mom brought the realization that it’s not wrong or bad parenting to need some time to yourself. Separating from my ex-husband only made me more grateful for his and his family’s roles in our son’s “village.”
Coco June is a Memphian, mother, and the Flyer’s theater columnist.