At this time in life I have to take a moment and share with others my appreciation for the men that can look at a single mother and the mess of a life she occupies, and thinks to himself, “I want to be a part of that.” It takes a special breed of man to take on and share the responsibilities that a single mother shoulders day after day.
When I first became a single mother and faced with the reality that I would have to, eventually, start the dating game, if I didn’t want to become a celibate nun, I was scared. I questioned the existence of a man that would see me, see my kids, and see the mess that I call life and want to share it all with me.I thought that any sane man would take one look at it all and run screaming for the hills. After three plus years of being single and my numerous failures at dating, that a rather suppress, I had given up all hope that such men existed. But in the end I found one. I found a man that came into my life and charmed not just me, but my children as well.
Even before I had kids I had a rather negative view on love and men in general, but things change when you meet someone that can accept you for everything you are. So I would like to say to the men in the world that takes a single mother into their hearts, and loves her and her children, that you are all truly knights in shining armor. There is something amazing about you all. Thank you all for being so awesome. And to the men that are terrified of these strong, amazing mother’s, you don’t know what you’re missing.
Oh how the times have been changing. Both my children are now attending school (J/K and Grade One)making me realize just how old they (and me) are and I must admit that I had quite a few “mommy” moments. Watching my daughter climb the stairs of the school bus for the first time with her backpack, and new outfit almost brought tears to my eyes. But I have come to terms with these milestones and all that has come to follow.
As my daughter gets older she has definitely come to be an independent and rather sassy little girl that is starting to push the limits of what she can do. My son is growing taller and becoming smarter, and I can’t seem to help but wonder where time has gone. I miss my little babies that would sit and cuddle with me, but now they are kids that just drive me crazy.
I would love to be able to say that after all this time I have mastered the art of parenting and am confident in all that I do, but alas that is not the truth. As time goes on I still find myself questioning it all, but I think I have figured out that I’m not the only parent that feels this way. I guess if parenting were easy everyone would want to do it…alright well I guess that just means that most of us are just crazy then.
My children and the milestones that they keep passing with every day that goes by are not the only things in my life that seems to be changing. There have been more then a few new experiences over the last couple months that have influenced my life and will continue to impact my life in awesome ways, but that will be left to future days.
I’m sure most parents, or rather most people have read or heard “Love You Forever” by Robert Munch, and as a mother I kinda do what the mother in the book does…minus the singing and rocking bit, too afraid to wake the sleeping beasts. But I sometime go into my kids room just to watch them sleep for a while. It’s the perfect opportunity to witness them at there most serene, most innocent. It’s a time where you don’t need to exercise restraint.
It happens in these stolen moments that I usually get overwhelmed with disbelief that I am a mother and that I am doing an okay job of it, I mean I have managed to keep them alive and thriving for this long it is very possible that I can continue to do so whether I am alone or not. I still can’t seem to grasp fully the fact that these two little people are mine, that they are a part of me. It seems so incredibly impossible and amazing all at once.
We all want what we don’t have. It is true for just about anything; short people want to be tall, tall people want to be shorter, old people want to be younger and the young wish to be older. It is actually rather rare to be completely, 100% happy with what we have and who we are. Me for instance; most of the time I am fine with being a single mom, it’s tough but I’ve kind of gotten used to it, but then there are times when I’m not.
Going out and seeing father’s with their children and families enjoying time out together makes me realize what I don’t have. I always wanted the whole family deal and I ended up with the wonderful kids but instead of the loving husband and father I got an asshole I never really wanted to have kids with in the first place (It’s a rather long story but lets just say not all forms of birth control are great). There is a pang of hurt when I see these families and I have to wonder why I couldn’t have that. Trying to picture a family for my self is actually starting to become difficult, like it’s an alien concept for me.
I think after all this time my basic instincts are kicking in and I’m just waiting for some cave man to come grunting by and club me over the head so he can drag me back it his cave. Courting was such a simpler thing back then.
Oh how I envy the irresponsible, the individuals who are only responsible for themselves. I remember a time when I had total freedom, I could have lived as a Nomad if I so chose to (and there was a time in my youth that I would have loved to be a hippie). But that isn’t how it is any longer, now there are times where I start to feel like Atlas, holding up the sky all on my own. After a time it starts to wear on you, like a weariness that sinks right to the bone and leaves behind doubt.
I find my self shaking my head at how much people take for granted in their lives. Some times I think what I would do if given a chance, a day, to just do whatever it is I want with no worry, no stress (first thing that comes to mind is usually silence, blissful silence). But in truth I don’t even remember what it’s like to not think about my kids and the responsibility that comes hand in hand with parenthood. I have realized that being a parent means that your wants and needs come second to those of your children. It is a slightly depressing thought and even though I don’t like it, in the end it is worth it
As a single parent I can say with complete certainty that raising children is definitely not a one person job. Sure it’s doable, it is possible, but it takes its toll on those that do it. I constantly wonder if I’m doing it right, if I am being a good mother. I am sure that I will always live with this inadequacy, this question haunting my every action, but live with it I will.
So those of you without responsibility, without things to really worry about, I envy you your freedom so please don’t waste it.
So recently I succumbed to the not so tender grasp of the flu and with luck, so did my daughter. Nothing like being sick and having to take care of the sick to make you feel helpless. It kind of brings to mind the whole blind leading the blind statement. But it wasn’t just feeling helpless when taking care of my daughter but also dealing with my rambunctious son who happened to have missed getting the virus. I pride myself on being able to handle being a single mom and everything that comes along with it, but that flu had kicked my ass.
I am a rather stubborn women with a fair amount of pride and I absolutely hate to admit when I need help (I’m pretty sure most people are similar though don’t realize it). Anyway when I was laying on the couch curled up in the fetal position mentally fighting my stomach I realized just how alone I was. Most people when they are sick can just take the time to rest and recover, but when I was at my worst and needed someone, there was no one but me. I am the type of person that will take care of the people that are important to me when they are ill; I guess you can say I mother them :). It was just a little deflating to realize that there was no one there to return the favor when it was my turn.
Well it was a good thing I wasn’t sick for long and I was able to take care of myself and my daughter while not tying my son to a chair(though it was rather tempting at times). I think I rather stick to taking care of others rather then feeling sorry for myself since it’s not my cup of tea. I definitely have a new found appreciation for being healthy. I just hope that others out there don’t take for granted the people they have around them and what those people do for them.
There is just about nothing better then a soft bed, a comfy pillow, and a fluffy comforter. I love my bed and yet we have a very complicated relationship. No matter how tired I may be as soon as my kids are in bed and silence finally descends on me all I can think about is how much stuff I can get done without them under foot, or the chance to actually watch something other then cartoons (though I must confess, there are some cartoons I get as much enjoyment out of watching as they do). But no matter what it is sleep and my bed are usually the furthest things from my mind. I am a night person and so I usually feel more energetic and awake once the sun goes down (might also be because my children are in bed). Then morning comes around and even on those lucky days when my kids actually sleep in my oh so pleasant internal alarm clock wakes me up at 8 anyway. Oh how I try to deny the fact I am a wake, how I cling to the fading dreams and pray that sleep will return, but in the end it never really works. I lay in bed for as long as I can (usually the increasing need to pee makes staying in bed impossible) and then its back to morning routines.
There are times when I am talking to others and they like to tell me how they slept in until noon, and how tired they are, and I can start to feel my hand twitch with restraint. Don’t they know that you never talk to a parent about sleep? We don’t want to hear about your 12 hours of sleep, or how tired you are since you just worked eight hours. Being a parent is working full time and then going home to work another full time job. Luckily the little monsters are cute and are usually good for a laugh or two, most of the time they don’t even know why they are being funny which just makes it even better. It amazes me sometimes to think about my pre-mother life and how I would feel exhausted if I didn’t get eight hours of sleep, and now I could get four hours and still function (pretty sure I’m just working on auto-pilot on those days).
So enjoy every hour of sleep you get and never take sleeping in for granted. Even though I am sure most parents are like me and if you do miraculously sleep in you just end up thinking about all the things you could have gotten done in that time.