Living between two homes can be both a blessing and a challenge, especially as a single mom with two school-aged children.
My partner and I each have our own residences, and together we navigate the weekly dance of moving back and forth to accommodate our work, our children's school schedules, and all the details in between.
It’s a balancing act, one that requires organization, patience, and a sense of humor for those inevitable hiccups.
Each week, there’s the decision of what to bring and what to leave behind. Clothes are packed, but there’s always something we manage to forget, a favorite sweater or the pair of shoes that seem essential only when they’re not with us.
It feels like an exercise in constant adaptation making do with what’s on hand and learning to accept that not everything needs to be perfect or complete.
With time, we’ve learned to have the basics at each house to minimize what we carry back and forth, but there’s always the last-minute scramble, packing and unpacking, a somewhat chaotic reminder of our unusual routine.
Work adds its own set of complications. Laptops, papers, and chargers make the journey too, as we juggle conference calls, Zoom meetings, and deadlines from two different spaces.
Sometimes, I’ll find myself in the middle of an important call, only to realize I left essential files at the other house. Thankfully, technology helps bridge these gaps, but it’s not a perfect solution.
The internet connection may act up, or a Zoom meeting might be interrupted by the kids needing help with their homework or a snack. These moments are humbling, reminders that no matter how well we try to plan, life has a way of throwing in surprises.
Then there are the little things, the favorite coffee mug that feels comforting but is left behind, the routines that get shifted around, the children’s school projects that inevitably go missing or are misplaced between moves.
Each house has its rhythm, and the transitions sometimes feel like starting over, finding the pulse of each place anew. Some days, the juggling act is seamless, and it feels like we’ve found our stride. Other days, it’s messy, plain and simple.
But here’s the truth, even with its chaos and the logistical gymnastics, this life in two places brings a deeper happiness. It’s messy, yes, but beneath the commotion is a calm, a grounding that comes from knowing we’re doing this for the love and connection that each home represents.
Both places hold parts of us and our shared life, one has the kitchen where we cook dinner as a family, and the other has the cozy living room where we unwind.
Our children have grown to know both homes as their own, finding familiarity and comfort in each. They don’t see the hassle of the travel or the occasional disruptions, instead, they see that they’re surrounded by family and love, wherever we happen to be that week.
Every once in a while, when something doesn’t go as planned, or the effort seems overwhelming, I remind myself that this is our version of “home.”
It’s not defined by four walls but by the people within them. Home is the feeling of knowing that in both places, we find love, laughter, and connection, even if the path there isn’t always smooth.
This life in two places has taught me resilience and flexibility. It’s a reminder that family is where we are, that love stretches across spaces and schedules. Our life may not be traditional, and it certainly isn’t perfect, but it’s ours. In the end, that’s what matters most, the happiness of knowing that wherever we are, we’re together, and that’s what makes it all worthwhile.
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