Five Things About Being a Single Parent

I grew up a kid of a single parent. This was normal to me, and I always assumed I’d meet some great guy and eff it up and end up a single parent. Hey, something I planned actually happened! In no particular order, here’s:

5 things that rule

1. I don’t have to consult anyone else. All decision making is up to me, the former crazy with power control freak. Yet, I still do consult him. He just doesn’t provide much commentary.
2. Everything cool about her – all me. Okay, like 90%. If she’s smart, has good rhythm, knows her ABCs, eats more veggies than snack crackers – it’s because I rock.
3. She is hopelessly in love with me, just like I am with her. Isobel loves me so much, she’ll hug me to the strangling point, just cuz I gave her wink. She’s social, sure. She’ll climb onto anyone’s lap and chill there, have a conversation with them, but me, MOMMY, I’m the big lap that she goes for.
4. I understand her like no one else. Other people including her dad, will spend time with her, true. But for some reason, I speak Isobel and can decipher most things that she spits out. Sure, it still doesn’t make a lot of sense, but it is my logic translating, so why would anyone expect it to?
5. People always see me with her and say she’s gorgeous and that she looks just like me. This has happened since her first outside travels, when she looked like a disgruntled old man with bags under her eyes. The bags are still there, but they match mine and yeah, she’s pretty adorable, so fuck yeah, I’ll take that ego trip.

5 things that suck ass

1. Resentment. Everyone whose got a partner who pitches in, who lets you sleep in at least once per year, who knows that dirty diapers always go in the garbage and isn’t about partying to the point of sickness everyday – I resent you. Sorry, but yeah, you suck. (I know, you don’t suck, but really? You suck.)
2. Everything has a price. Isobel seems to be trying to weasel her way out of naps now. This means less work gets done. This means she’s cranky come six pm. This means she watches too much TV now cuz I just cannot handle it without break when shit’s gotta get done. This means she’s a zombie who doesn’t sleep for some portion of a lot of days. This costs me patience, quality time, work (and the potential income I’d get from it), money (cuz sometimes, we just head outside for a walk and I end up buying something, like coffee) , sleep. You get the picture.
3. It’s insulting to her dad, when she wants me. And only me. It causes him doubt about our separate lives and that Isobel doesn’t like him.
4. It’s really fucking tiring. Being everything. Really. So. Exhausting.
5. I need timeouts more often than her, sometimes. Cuz I lose my shit. Or am on the verge. When she’s running away for 20 minutes from getting dressed/changed/fed/cleaned/put to bed. I get so amazingly frustrated with her that sometimes, this switch flips in my brain and how I was treated growing up tries to bubble to the surface. And sure, if I was willing to hit her or forcibly hold her down or make her stand in the corner for hours upon hours, she’d be afraid of me and respect my authority, right? No Dice. You will never get me to believe that. So instead, when I’m feeling those tendrils of anger, I drop it and give her a time limit until we will be doing whatever it is that she’s avoiding and I will hang out the window and suck back some lung cancer. Cuz not breathing clear air? Helps, for now.