I’m married to a sales manager whose job comes with long hours and frequent out-of-state travel. When he’s on the road, he leaves before the sun is up and comes home days later, long after the kids are asleep. During the busiest part of the year, even when he’s not traveling, he’s gone before we wake up and home after bedtime.

There are moments when I think, Is this what single parenting feels like? But I know it’s not. I  don’t carry all the weight a single parent does.

But I am a stressed, lonely, irritated, exhausted parent who just wants her partner to come home. I’ve started calling myself a “stranded parent.”

I know I’m not the only one who feels this way, so I reached out to three friends living similar lives to hear what it’s like for them—and what’s helped. 

Joan has three kids ages baby to 7. She’s married to a football coach and football season is a long time of not seeing one another very much. She told me it’s easy for her to take her partner for granted. She misses his help with mornings, entertaining the kids for a bit after dinner, giving her a chance to breathe. 

Evenings are the hardest. After the kids go to bed, she’s either completely exhausted or staring at a messy house. Her husband usually does the dishes. But what she misses the most about her missing partner is sitting next to him on the couch and talking about her day. 

The kids miss their dad of course and act-out more when he’s gone a lot. She makes sure to spend more time with the kids, even though she knows it doesn’t quite fill the void. Joan takes them to their dad’s football games, but watching from the sidelines isn’t the same. She really protects that family time when her husband comes home so they can all spend time together with Dad.

Bessie is a teacher, and her husband works from home while caring for their 2-year-old. But once a month, he travels out of state and that’s when life gets hard. No matter where a parent works–at home or away–parenting in the evening is exhausting without help. So she asks her parents to come over for dinner when her husband is out of town. It’s a great way for Bessie to get a break, and for her daughter to spend time with more caring adults in her life.

Jesse owns a general contracting business and works as jobs come, and his wife is a regional manager for an international company and travels often. She’s continuing to pump breastmilk as their 1-year-old nurses when she’s home, but Jesse says getting their son to sleep is a nightmare when Mom is gone. It’s going a bit better since Jesse started FaceTiming his wife at bedtime. Their son noticeably settles down. For now, this is working.

Jesse says their son is quieter when Mom’s traveling. He makes it a point to be extra nurturing and gentle, knowing that he’s trying to fill a big gap in his baby’s life.  

It really helped me to feel heard and understood to talk to these friends. I have learned to lean heavily on family, friends, and my AP parent group.

One of the first things I tried to relieve my stranded feeling was to have a friend bring her kids over for dinner when my husband is traveling. Having another adult around during that witching hour is such a relief!

Keeping our routine as normal as possible helps, too. The less disruption for the kids, the smoother things go. I’ve learned the hard way not to start new habits or make big changes when the other parent is away.

We also use technology to stay in touch and let my husband read bedtime stories even when he’s on the road. When he’s local but busy, we try to sneak in a lunch or even a quick snack together.

Some days my kids are just going to be upset—and there’s nothing I can do about it. When I feel myself getting overwhelmed, I step away briefly to regroup. Finding small moments to calm my mind matters.

And this isn’t just about parenting. Being apart from the person you love is hard. My husband and I send each other little love notes—quick texts that say, “I’m thinking of you,” or “Thank you for everything you’re doing.” Those messages go a long way.

What matters most is letting myself get the support I need and remembering that this season is hard for everyone—but we’re not alone.

(This post was inspired by “Stranded Parent,” 2012.)

It still amazes me what comes out of my child’s mouth when she wants to do something other than what I’m asking.

I really started noticing this once she began going on playdates and attending preschool. Suddenly, new phrases and behaviors were showing up at home. I've heard plenty of “No!” before, but the first time my 3-year-old threw her arms in the air, said “Hmph,” and stomped away after a simple request, I was genuinely shocked.

That is… until I saw one of her friends do the exact same thing to her mom.

Cue the light bulb: Ohhh. That’s where that came from.

Since then, she’s brought home all kinds of new words, tones, and attitudes. And while it can be frustrating, I know from reading about child development that this is actually pretty normal. Young children borrow behaviors from others as they explore independence. They’re not trying to be rude or hurtful—they’re just experimenting. They’re testing out different phrases to see what happens.

Wanting some guidance, I joined an AP parent group and asked for ideas on how to respond to these not-so-lovely versions of “No!” Some strategies worked beautifully for our family; others didn’t. But these 4 have made a big difference for us:

1. Hold the boundaries you’ve set - I’ve learned not to give my daughter what she wants unless she asks appropriately—no whining, hitting, or tantrums. And sometimes, even with a polite request, the answer is still “no" (like when she wants her sister’s holiday candy). This means I have to be firm and consistent, even when it’s uncomfortable. When possible, I also try to break the tension with play. The goal isn’t to break my child’s will but to help her develop the desire to make good choices.
2. Focus on what she can do - I’ve stopped telling her what she can’t do and started telling her what she can do instead. I’ve also learned not to phrase something as a request when it isn’t really optional. If I ask, she should be allowed to say no. If it needs to happen, I say, “I need you to…” That small shift has helped both of us.
3. Offer (limited) choices - My daughter thrives when she gets some autonomy. In the morning, she chooses her shirt, and then I offer two matching pairs of pants. She chooses between two cups and two bowls. I’ve learned that fewer choices work better for my toddlers—too many can feel overwhelming. My preschooler can handle a bit more, but even then, simplicity helps.
4. Make transitions playful - Most versions of “No!” show up when it’s time to stop one thing and start another. Transitions are hard for her, especially when she’s deeply engaged. Honestly, I get it. I don’t love being interrupted either. I now give plenty of warning before switching activities. Even though she doesn’t fully grasp “10 minutes,” those gentle reminders seem to help. It’s like my own snooze button in the morning. I also turn transitions into games—playing “Freeze,” singing songs with movements, pretending to walk like animals, or driving an imaginary car to the next activity. At bedtime, we even “melt” into the bed.

Something else I learned from the AP group really stuck with me: Every unwanted behavior has a reason. My job isn’t just to stop the behavior, but to understand what’s underneath it—and then help my daughter meet that need in a better way.

For example, when she yells at her sister, “I want that now,” I see a child practicing independence. I don’t love the delivery, so I coach her with words she can use: “Can I have a turn with that, please?”

I also have to do a lot of self-checking. When I’m frustrated, I don’t want my reactions to become something she copies. And I definitely don’t want her to take my frustration as a reflection of her worth. Learning not to take her “No!” personally—and not turning it into a power struggle—has been huge for me.

And when the “No!”s start ramping up again, I ask myself one more question: How much time have I really spent with her lately?

I’ve noticed that when I slow down and spend more time together—playing, cooking, or just folding laundry side by side—everything feels easier. She’s more cooperative, I hear “No!” less often, and parenting feels a little lighter.

From dance camp to cooking class to swim team, drop-off activities can be such a fun experience for my kids. The drop-off part, though? That’s where things can get tricky.

Talking with other parents, I’ve learned we’re not alone. A lot of kids feel anxious about being away from Mom or Dad. Add in a new place, a new caregiver, and a new routine, and that’s a lot for a little person to handle. In my house, that anxiety usually shows up as tears, shoe refusal, or a kid who suddenly cannot get out of the car.

Over the years, I’ve tried a few different approaches including the classic “rip the Band-Aid off” method. You know the one: Walk your kid inside and leave no matter how upset they are. Honestly, that was just as hard on me as it was on them, and I knew I couldn’t keep doing it.

So I started asking friends what worked for them to help their kids through drop-off gently, but with confidence. Here’s what works really well for our family:

1. Listen - When my kids were nervous about starting swim lessons, I asked what they were worried about—and they told me. They didn’t know the pool or the teacher. They weren’t sure where I’d be. They were worried they’d be starving when class was over. Once I knew what was behind the nerves, we could actually make a plan.
2. Get familiar with the new place - I called the swim center and asked if we could do a quick tour. We walked through the locker room, showers, and pool area together. That extra time made a huge difference: On the first day of lessons, it wasn’t all brand new and overwhelming.
3. Meet the teacher ahead of time (& other kids if possible) - While we were there, I made sure the boys could meet their swim teacher. Schools do this all the time before the first day of class, but drop-off activities often expect kids to jump right in. We weren’t able to meet other kids who would be there this time, but I knew my kids needed to trust the teacher before they’d feel okay walking away from me.
4. Make a plan - My younger son really needed to know exactly where I’d be during lessons—and that I’d still be there at the end. Together, we picked a spot that overlooks the pool. We made a deal: hugs at drop-off, he’d go with his teacher, and I’d sit in that spot and wave whenever he looked up. At first, he checked in with me a lot. Over time, he needed less and less reassurance.
5. Reconnect - When lessons are over, I make sure I’m right there at pick-up where the boys can see me. Even if I’m in a hurry, we pause for hugs and a quick chat about how class went—yes, even if I watched the whole thing. I want them to know they can tell me what they really think before we rush off.
6. Talk about favorite moments - On the drive home, I ask about their favorite parts of class. At first, it took them a while to come up with something. As they got more comfortable, those favorite-moment lists got longer and longer.

These steps have worked really well for us—not just with swim lessons, but with other drop-off activities too. And remember that worry about being hungry after class? Yep, I always bring a snack now. 

What helps your child through the drop-off at a new activity?

(This post was inspired by "Gently and Sensitively Separating for Drop-off Activities," 2012.)