My husband and I have a new policy. We leave the children and go out for a date once a week. We've done this twice now. And its just huge for me. In 13 years, we've only left the children with a sitter and gone out alone 2 or 3 times. We can't afford baby sitters. And we didn't have children to leave them. From the beginning, we've been invested in being with them. Which is lovely. But has become precarious for our marriage and my sense of self. Without a self, there ain't much wife to go around, if you see what I mean.

I asked a police officer what is the official legal age for leaving children home alone. Mine are 12 and nearly 14. Gosh, by 14 I think its beyond obvious. Though, obviously, I've erred on the side of caution. I have left them sporadically this year to run quick errands and such. But I was curious about official governmental policy on the issue. Surprising me, he said there is no official age. He said children may be left alone when they are considered "reasonable" and when doing so would be considered "reasonable" by a normal group of reasonable people. He said the criteria of reasonability was literal and specific.

We've gone out twice. Both times I've been overwhelmed with an urge to weep. On the first date, I felt like weeping for almost the whole time. The last 30 minutes of our date found us drinking a beer over a plate of nachos. I finally relaxed there and it was time to go home. A need to weep was familiar by the second date but didn't last the whole time.

I do not flatter myself that I could or should provide all my children need. I haven't stayed home with them in order to attempt to do so. But for the last nearly 14 years, I have been aware on an acute moment by moment basis, that I'm ON. Parenting and providing an education are an obligation I take seriously. If I am with my children, even if it looks like I'm just sitting on the couch knitting alone, I am aware of my job as a parent and educator. I may fail often, but I never put the burden of it down. In much the same way that forks never float off tables, knobs never turn themselves, and laundry never washes itself.

As an unschooler, a lot of my work appears invisible. I like to think there is an ancient immutable finesse about the whole situation and I aspire to that. But for a whole lot of the time, if you look in at what is available to see, it might look as though nothing is happening. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Even though it looks as though I'm sitting on the couch knitting, I'm actually deeply engaged in parenting and teaching.

Such that, I am finally willing to admit, my job is work. And I occasionally need a break.