I would like to make a point to say “Happy Father’s Day” to all the single moms out there. Single moms do the job of both parents. After all, raising kids is tough enough with a partner; I’m sure you can’t imagine how trying the job is when you’re doing it solo with four kids! Pass the Prosecco; I need to medicate! If I was a meth head, I’m sure people would understand! So Father’s Day has always been a moment for me to pat myself on the back. In my role as a single mother, it’s the fathering that is often the most challenging for me. Since I am taking on the gargantuan task of being mom and dad to my children, why wouldn’t we celebrate me on both days?
Let’s face it, being a single mom to four is not something anyone yearns for. I was forced to embark on my parenting journey solo, so I had to put on my big girl panties and deal with it. I had to let go of the traditional family fantasy. Shocker, there are sooooo many things that are hard about being a single mom. There’s the obvious, “I will be tired the rest of my life” and “there’s no one to hold the kid while I clean up the barf” parts that are brutal. I knew that was going to suck. Then add the financial holocaust and lack of support. We check the oil, carry in heavy bags, wrestle with kids, or “man up” and kill the spiders. I’m the one who takes them to their doctor’s appointments and ER trips. I go solo to all the parent-teacher conferences and open house nights. I’m the one attending the sporting events, the recitals, and the dance shows. I taught them how to ride a bike, drive a car, and I know their favorite dinners. I applaud my children’s accomplishments and I anguish their pain on my own. I’ve done all of these things alone. I am a single parent. I live this life; it is mine. But beyond that, the hardest parts of being a single mom for me have been the emotional battles and realizations that I have had to face.
I had to become the head of the household and raise my kids with a combination of compassion and toughness. So much of my character has been shaped by my single mom experience. Unfortunately, it has hardened me. All parents struggle with a loss of independence because your life doesn’t belong to you anymore. Now try this: being the ONLY single adult. Doing anything for yourself is basically impossible since you are on the hook 24/7 with ALL of the responsibility. You become a shadow of your former self. There is no one else to share this experience with, the good and the bad. There is zero physical, emotional, or financial support. This shit is hard and it never ends. Everyday is groundhog day. You mourn your old self and I can’t say it’s hard. I can’t cry over the pressure. I’m supposed to grin and bear it. It’s no wonder so many of us snap, so many are depressed, and so many have resentment because the responsibility is suffocating. It’s so hard not to crack under the pressure. It makes it difficult to enjoy parenthood, but I still try.
Though it sucks for me, it’s so much worse for my kids. You only get one dad. I have held each one of them while they have cried about not having a dad. Their heartbreak is unbearable. It’s nothing I ever wanted for them. I try to plug in my own father or uncles to provide positive male role models, but it’s fleeting. Does it matter that it’s my father giving the “Get Good Grades” talk, my brother taking my son to a football game, or Scott negotiating a sibling argument? Will it make a difference to them because it’s all they will ever know? But it does to me. I’m still here, still trying, and still committed to my kids. And in the end, all I have learned is how to be strong.
Alone.
