I’m Just A Mom
I’m trying to write this inaugural post, but it’s not going well. Sabrina, aka Diva Girl, is home from school today–with a bad case of vacation entitlement. And Regan, my Zen Baby, is on a nap strike. After all, if her seven year-old sister doesn’t have to sleep away the afternoon, then she’s certainly not going to submit to the indignity of it all. (This is much the same attitude she has towards diapers these days, but that’s a post for another time.)
(Excuse me while I go rescue Zen Baby from the spurting horror of the carpet steamer.)
When did this become my life? When did a trip to the laundryroom become an exercise in precision planning?
Well, pretty much the moment the stick turned blue, actually. This has always been my life. My life as a Mom, anyway. I have never, ever, parented with a partner. Like most solo moms, I get asked every once in a while–usually when it’s pouring down rain but we need to make a trip to the store for diapers with a disgruntled Diva Girl and an unZen Baby in tow, or similar circumstances–”How do you do it?”
And I don’t really know how to answer that. How do I do what? Parent? The same way you do, I would imagine. I make rules, break rules, hug my kids, shout at my kids, adore my daughters and am worn out by them. I change their diapers, kiss their boo-boos and do their laundry. I read to them, sing to them, play with them, and occasionally lock myself in the bathroom to escape from them. I really am just like you in so many ways.
That said, being a solo mom is so much more than being the only one there at the battle of the bedtime. We’ve all been there, single and partnered moms alike. And it’s not about having someone else to pick up the slack around the house. Although I’m sure that when you are used to that support and it is withdrawn, it must seem doubly hard to get those floors washed or the laundry folded. (Heck, I don’t remember the last time I folded the laundry.)
The real difference in being a solo mom is living with the knowledge that no one will ever love or be enthralled with your child as much as you are. I watch Zen Baby sing along to her favourite Doodlebops song or conquer the ladder up the slide. I watch Diva Girl mimic her Bella Dancerella DVD or listen to another gem drop out of her mouth. I live all those “Honey, look at what the baby’s doing!” moments knowing that I can share them with grandparents and friends and here on this blog, but they will never be meaningful in the same way. And that is one facet of what it is like to be a single parent. Probably the hardest one.
On the other hand, my Big Girl tells me she loves me, and that I’m the best mommy ever. Or my Little Girl gives me a wide sloppy kiss and simply beams at my attention. And I know that while I will always be the “bad cop” (Diva Girl has settled in to sulk on the couch as I write this, upset at being reprimanded one too many times for teasing her sister), I will never not be the favourite parent. After all, only I hold the keys to the ice cream.
Sure, there’s no one to work out the Really Big Stuff with — Catholic School or Public? Time-outs or Time-ins? Chocolate cake or brownies for breakfast? But there’s also no need to worry about anyone secondguessing or contradicting those choices once they’re made. For me, that’s where much of the “sanity” comes in. I don’t need to lose my mind over things like the kids still needing a bath when I get done work, or always being the one who has to remember the vaccination schedule and scrub the toilet. When there is no expectation that someone else could be doing those things, it’s far easier to just get on with doing them yourself. (Or, you know, putting them off until tomorrow in favour of curling up on the couch and watching Justice League with The Ladies.)
I love my kids. I make choices for them. I do it alone, and I do it happily. I accept that while they are loved by many people, they live in my heart, and my heart alone. And that is what it is like to be a solo mom.
Welcome to my blog. I’m really looking forward to talking to you. But right now I’m going to go check out the ominous silence from the playroom.