My First Day on the Blog

All of you single parents going it alone, this is for you.  From the hurried mornings to the impossible school nights, the pile of dishes and unmade beds.  You are here to relate.  Let’s face it, we are the underdog.  There are no communities for single parents where we can pay a fee to have our lawns mowed.  We are it.  Numero Uno.  If you have help, three kids or one; it doesn’t matter.  This isn’t a competition.  We are in this together.  Because at the end of the day we hit the pillow not the couch…alone.  What is a couch?  If you have one I bet you are never on it.  Chances are it’s mostly used for fort building and coat storing.

Even now as I type, I am ignoring my responsibilities knowing I will need to wake one hour earlier than the typical 5:30 alarm to make up for this “free time”.  You know what I’m talking about, all that “free time” our married friends say we should have because on weekends the other parent has our child.  Yes, because going weeks without another human being to help maintain a home and a child means party time for us on Saturday!  Chances are you are frantically getting all the things done you couldn’t because caulking or weeding don’t get done when you are the only one tending to your child.  Running the gazillion errands on your lunch break because you know you can’t leave the house once you’re home.  And maybe you get out a little to see friends or maybe you have a partner.  That takes even more sacrifice because you know for every minute you are doing  something for yourself you will spend making up in late nights or early mornings.  Someone said to me recently, “Dana, you are lucky you get to have a day out with your boyfriend.  When you are married you never get time like that together.”  Agreed, I was married for 16 years; however, I would easily give up that one “free” day to have every night back with a family.

Things that are done by most at the end of the work day, instead wait for us in endless piles until after our kids are asleep because there is no other parent or warm-blooded body at least keeping an eye out.  You can’t even leave your house if you wanted to.  The papers, the schedules, the forms are piled on the mecca we call the counter top.  You know it well.  And thank goodness for it.  We eat standing up on it, finish homework on it, leave things we think someday we will get to on it.  Thank goodness for the counter top.  Because being a single parent means being grateful.  We get it.  We appreciate any help we can get.

We all have our stories and well, this is mine.  My son is on the spectrum.  Don’t worry, I still don’t know what that means.  He is seven, he is cool and he is my favorite human.  There are no choices in single parenthood.  We are the rushed, the frantic, always late; but we are also the strong and the passionate.  We keep our sanity in front of our children and scream or cry when we are alone (and sometimes akwardly in front of people for no reason).  And we make it work someway, somehow so that our kids don’t have to fight this battle as they grow into adulthood.  In many ways single parenthood makes our children stronger, more independent.  We realize quickly how capable a six year old is helping his mom with the groceries or his Dad with the lawn.  They feel more confident that they are part of the team, team household.  And in this day and age of entitlement, I feel no less of a parent just because I am only one.

So hold your head up high when your heel gets caught in the cracks, or you slam your finger in the door.  The bruises will heal, time will pass and we will come out of this challenge with knowing we have raised good people.