The VIA train took my baby away this morning, off to the Big Smoke for 2 days of conference excitement. This is the first time in 5 years that Kristen will spend a night away from the little dude. That’s right, in 5+ years, she’s never had a full 24 hours off from mom duty. Which also means that I’ve never been the sole parent in charge for more than a day.

When she first told me of the opportunity to attend the conference, I flinched a little bit. The long list of jobs and challenges that I would now be responsible for was a little bit daunting, and I started to fuss over it. Luckily, I took a step back and thought about it for a moment. I remembered how enjoyable my few recent excursions as an independent adult have been, and I realized how good this little work vacation away would be for Kristen. 

And it’ll be good for Max and me too. We’re having a couple of days of dude time, complete with Lucky Charms, Lunchables, and Lego Batman 2. I’m looking forward to spending the time with him and I know we’re going to have a fun (albeit unhealthy) couple of days.

But, to be honest, I can already feel the creeping sense of loneliness I get when I’m single parenting. The first wave of it washed over me when I dropped Max off at day camp this morning. I shouldn’t be so easily affected by it, but I’ve always been a sensitive child. 

As an aside, it just occurred to me that Kristen is going to Toronto the morning after the flash flooding there. I hope she can safely navigate the waterlogged streets and avoid the occasional swamp gator she may see on her trip. 

Fans of the television series “Game of Thrones” had a pretty upsetting evening Sunday night, and I sympathize with them.

Before we go any further, I have to admit that I haven’t watched any of the series. I have read the first 3 books of the series that the T.V. show is based on, however. I abandoned the series, which is very uncharacteristic for me, because I just couldn’t take another round of finding a new character to root for.

I felt manipulated by the author. He put effort into creating a likable, suitably heroic-sounding patriarch of an interesting family. And shortly thereafter, he begins a long, drawn out process to murder, abuse and denigrate the entire family. And it’s not like the poor Starks ever get a break-just one terrible thing after another. So, when my hopes for the Stark family making a triumphant return from the darkness faded, I grudgingly switched my support to another character. That character died. I then threw in my support to the not-quite-so-bad guy Tyrion, but that left me with a bad taste in my mouth. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that George R.R. Martin was sadistically using my emotions to prove how much control he, as the author, had over readers like me. 

By the time the story switched to some chick overseas who hung out with jerks on horses and had a baby dragon, I checked out. I didn’t have anyone I cared about anymore. Maybe I’m old fashioned or unsophisticated, but I need to have at least one character in a story that I can cheer for. I need a hero of some sort or another. I appreciate that it’s intriguing to explore a fictional world where everyone is morally ambiguous and your favourite person can drop dead at any second, but isn’t that the burden we struggle with in real life? Can’t our stories give us the sense of hope that sometimes, things work out for those who want to do good?