Surviving a Solo Sunday: When the Silence is Too Loud

Today, I woke up to a house that was way too quiet. No kids. Just me, the faint hum of the fridge, and the echo of a dozen things I should be doing. You’d think a mum would savour these rare moments of peace, right? Wrong. When you’re used to the constant noise and chaos of parenting, the silence hits different. It’s not relaxing—it’s unnerving.

I had a mental list of things to tackle: finally clean out the fridge, fold the mountain of laundry I’ve been ignoring, maybe even organise the cupboard where Tupperware goes to die. Did I do any of that? Of course not. Instead, I spent an embarrassing amount of time staring at the ceiling, scrolling mindlessly through social media, and debating if I should eat cereal for lunch. (Spoiler alert: I did.)

It’s funny how much of my identity revolves around the kids. When they’re not here, I feel a bit…lost. I know I should be using this time to be “productive” or doing something self-care-y like reading a book, but instead, I just reverted to some weird version of my 20-year-old self. You know, the one who lived off takeout and thought staying in pyjamas all day was a personality trait.

By mid-afternoon, I’d gone full nostalgia mode—hello, 90s playlist—and made the totally responsible decision to order pizza. At this point, I was fully leaning into the lazy day. Sometimes, it feels like the only way to cope with the emptiness when the kids are gone is to stop trying to be productive and just be.

By the end of the day, I’d done… nothing. And you know what? That’s okay. Not every day has to be about crossing things off a list. Sometimes, we need to give ourselves permission to rest in the weirdness of it all. Even if that means eating pizza in bed and binging old TV shows.

Here’s to surviving another solo Sunday, the messy way.