noncustodialparent – The Mother Rogue

I’m planning a trip to New Jersey in the next couple of weeks. Actually, I’ve been planning this trip since the last trip three months ago. Sadly, I’m driving, not flying over the Merritt Parkway, aka the 2-lane Connecticut highway from hell (AC/DC reference intended).

If you know, you know.

Connecticut Route 15 is the scenic, tree-lined “connection” between my son and me. It is also a winding ribbon of brake lights. It offers moments of existential reflection. Occasionally, a BMW appears, seemingly believing speed limits are philosophical suggestions.

I have a complicated relationship with that road. It is the corridor to my kid. It is also the place where time stands still behind a landscaping truck doing 38 miles per hour in a 55.

But here is the thing about long-distance parenting. The road is not optional. Safety is not negotiable.

1. My Car Is Part of the Parenting Plan

Before every trip:

Oil checked.
Tires inspected.
Wipers working.
Gas tank filled the night before.

My vehicle is not just transportation. It is the bridge. If it fails, I fail to show up. That is not a risk I take lightly.

2. Weather Is a Decision-Maker, Not Background Noise

Living in New England means snow does not politely reschedule itself around custody weekends.

If the forecast shows ice, heavy snow, or dangerous wind, I avoid driving in it. I do not white-knuckle my way through it to prove a point. I reassess. I communicate. I reschedule if necessary.

Canceling for safety is not a weakness. It is parenting.

I would rather disappoint my son for a weekend than terrify him with a risky drive or worse.

Watch the forecast. Leave early. Or do not leave at all if conditions cross the line from inconvenient to unsafe.

3. Leave Early Enough to Be Human

Route 15 has two lanes. Two. That is it. No shoulders worth mentioning. No graceful exits when traffic collapses into a parking lot.

So I leave early. Earlier than feels reasonable.

Because driving into a pickup truck matters. Showing up flustered, snapping at traffic, muttering about Connecticut infrastructure policy, does not.

4. EZPass Is a Love Language

Get the EZPass.

Unless you enjoy:

Surprise toll invoices.
Grainy photos of your license plate.
Whatever states you travel through and to sending you requests for (toll) money like you just won the lottery.

EZPass saves money and your mailbox. It is essential equipment for the interstate co-parent.

5. Hands-Free or Hands Off

Podcasts queued before departure. Phone mounted. Texts are unanswered until I am stopped.

Nothing is worth glancing down at 65 – AHEM! – 55 miles per hour while the Merritt curves like someone with a vendetta against straight lines designed it.

6. Manage the Emotional Traffic Too

Long drives invite rumination. Court stress. Old conversations. What you wish you said at drop-off.

Emotional distraction is still a distraction.

If I need to process something heavy, I do it before I merge. If I feel overwhelmed, I pull over. Rest stops are underrated therapy rooms.

7. Fatigue Is Not a Badge of Honor

Sunday night returns are brutal. Early Monday alarms are real.

If I am tired, I stop. A 15-minute nap beats fighting gravity at highway speed. Showing up safely beats showing off endurance.

8. Model It When He’s in the Car

Seatbelts first. Phone down. Speeds reasonable—no commentary about the driver who just cut me off.

He is watching. Always.

Long-distance parenting is measured in miles, maintenance appointments, toll charges, and weather apps.

Connecticut Route 15 tests my patience, my brakes, and my faith in civil engineering.

It also carries me to my son.

The safest arrival is the only one that counts.

See you next month, Hartford!

–CMR

2/28/2026

Not all non-residential parents live near their children.

Being a parent means supporting all of your child’s needs, including their financial ones. As the workplace has changed over the years, so have the places people can actually get work.

As a result, many non-custodial parents, including yours truly, live more than an hour’s travel time from their children. Sometimes it’s just that – a different part of the same state. Sometimes, it’s a few states away: say, Boston when your child lives in New Jersey. For others it’s a plane ride.

Just like a non-custodial mom is still a Mom, a long distance parent is still a parent. We have all of the same worries and woes of our local and residential peers. We are the ones the school calls when they cannot find our fearless co-parent, because we know how to get them. We get calls from the principal’s office. We juggle school events and visitation schedules with blended family schedules and work. There is an empty room in our homes set up for the conspicuously absent child we are carrying in our hearts. We have Amazon Prime for the exact inevitable moment we find out a school project, concert uniform, sports equipment is needed on Monday.

When we cross – via plane, train, or automobile – that state line to where our children are waiting for us, our smiles get brighter and our hearts get lighter.

Non-custodial parents who live nearby and don’t take advantage of every second they could have with their children are anathemas to us. We fight for every moment. We cherish every second.

Our heart breaks when, at the end of the day, long weekend, week, summer vacation, our children return to their residential parents, but we do not stop being Mom or Dad.

You don’t stop being a parent when your child is not in your presence…

Because Autism

I cannot possibly write about my life without writing about Autism, typically referred to as a “spectrum disorder affecting 1 in XX individuals.” I’ll leave the “XX” there in place of an actual number because the number of autistic people changes constantly the more the world learns about Autism.

By the way, Autism is NOT a disorder. Not in my eyes. Not in the #actuallyautistic community’s eyes either. A “disorder” is something that might someday be curable, or that can possibly prevented. A disorder is something those affected WANT cured, and/or prevented.

My son is Autistic. I have been told I exist somewhere on that vast spectrum. Neither of us wants a cure. There is nothing that can prevent Autism. Leading Man #1 has had and continues to have his ups and downs, just like any other late teen/early 20-something. He has other currently disabling conditions to go along with his being Autistic. I say currently because my son’s future is not written yet. Don’t judge him by what his Mom says in a blog. Don’t count him out of achieving his dreams, or doing anything he sets his mind to. He can. He always has. He already does. He will.

I have never been formally diagnosed with Autism, just told I meet the DSM-V criteria for being on the spectrum by the professional support team I enlisted to help me in my earliest years as a non-custodial and long-distance Mom, when I was wracked with guilt about one, the other, or both.

Common sense, you know. You have something in your head you can’t handle yourself, you go and talk to someone. You get help. In the beginning it was extremely hard for me to handle my son not living with me full-time. I felt guilty to my bones for abandoning my son by not fighting a custody battle. I also felt like everyone in the world was judging me – badly – for being a non-custodial MOM.

No cures, no tragedies, and yes, we both get flu vaccines every year. This is life. We like it, and ourselves, as we are.

Tag: noncustodialparent

Essential Tips for Safe Long-Distance Parenting Travel