Being a single Mom is hard. There are no “time-outs”, “hold the baby while I quickly disappear for 5 minutes”. There is also no extra pair of hands. It’s hard, no sugar coating it.
It’s the hardest job I have ever had to do in my whole life. I would rather go to work every day of the week and do cold calling until I am blue in my face because I am not built for being a full-time Mom. I commend the full-time Moms, you have the patience of a saint.
I had a mommy meltdown. Yes I sat on the floor and just cried. I cried for accepting that I did this to myself, I chose this life, I chose to do it alone. I have a baby fast asleep in bed, my eldest as good as gold and my middle child literally turning into a little devil. So many nights I sit and fantasize about how it would actually feel to just have a day for me.
A day where I wake up on my time, chill in bed, maybe read a book or two and just simply be. But alas that will never happen. Why, you ask? It’s simple, its not JUST about me anymore. During that day of luxury I will keep on worrying about my children in the back of my mind. Feel guilty for spending the day by myself and not with them and question myself ten times over whether I am doing the right thing for myself or not.
I am sitting in bed typing away while I listen to my middle child wailing away for goodness knows what, my eldest trying to sleep and I am doing my best to ignore her. I sometimes don’t understand why we do this to ourselves, like who’s clever idea was it to love someone so much that you want to create another life together? There should be a warning manual given out before marriage and a 5-day crash course where they play barney all day on TV and a CD of a crying child on repeat, you know, to ease you into it.
I really feel like such a bad mother most days. I carry on walking when one is wailing at my feet for something and I give people the “what are you looking at stare”. Some days I walk out of a shop after announcing that I am leaving, whether they follow or not and most times they come screaming after me because I “forgot” about them. Yeah right, like I would intentionally choose to forget you.
Read this: An Open Letter To My Daughters Stepmom
There were days that I worried that I’d turn out like my parents, not that they did a bad job, hey I am unique and it took a damn tough person to raise me. Kudos to my Mom and my ever patient Dad for sticking it out with me. The thing is, I am not my parents, our circumstances are way different than what I am in now, but one thing I never doubted was that they loved me.
I mean, take today. I have been a very self-centered, selfish, undoubtedly miserable, stubborn and hard headed child and yet today my Mom and Dad both stopped at my new home and dropped off a brand spanking new fridge. Not once did I ask for it, I don’t even think I deserve it to be honest but one thing I will never ever questioned, is their love for me. It took me by complete surprise and I have never been so grateful to receive a proper working fridge in my life.
It’s not always about the big things, it’s about my eldest child coming to sit in my lap and pat me on the back while I cry because my middle child hit me in the face and it was actually really sore. It’s about kissing the monster good night and hugging her while she tells me “sorry mommy for hitting you in the face with my angry bird”, it is about finally climbing into bed and having a little 10-month-old wiggling herself closer to me just to make our co-sleeping that more worth it.
At the end of the day, they are what makes you, you and the love for them will last a lifetime.