All the Single Mothers

All the single mothers (all the single mothers)... now put your hands UP. (I can't dance like Beyoncé. And if I tried, someone would likely call 911 thinking I was having a seizure, and you're welcome for the visual)

I'll never forget this Mother's Day. It's being added to the list of "Mother's Days that are etched into my darned photographic memory". But it's for good reasons.

Duh, of course this would be added to the list. It's a monumental Mother's Day- my first as a single mom. Future me will always remember this day, for various reasons. It was a pretty epic Mother's Day, and not because I got to sleep past 7:30am and have breakfast served to me in bed, followed by spending the whole day in bed watching trashy TV and smiling like a creep at all the mushy facebook posts about moms. Nope. Those Mother's Days are a thing of the past for me. This year was epic for the opposite reason. I stumbled out of bed at 7:20am to the sound of "mooooooommy. Mooooooommy." coming from the baby monitor. I crawled into her bed with her, and reminded her that it's Mother's Day (you silly 3-year old, now go make mommy some pancakes and start the laundry!). I asked for a cuddle, and she gladly laid her sweet little head on my chest and said "I saved this cuddle for you for mother's day. I love you so much." As I completely melted into a metaphorical puddle of goo, she then said "now can I go play with play-doh?" Yep, have at it kid... and here, let me open up the new play-doh I bought yesterday with my hard-earned garage sale money. I kissed her sweet little face, and told her I'd sit and play with her once I was finished making some elixir of life (coffee). We played with play doh, then she ate some breakfast. Halfway through breakfast was potty time, the time when we are both reminded that no matter how much control she has over my daily routine and how much she thinks she is independent and can do whatever she wants, she still needs me to wipe her bottom for her. Wash hands, return to breakfast. Well, SHE had breakfast while I cleaned up the kitchen. Then I asked her to play by herself while I showered.

My child is not usually that child that must interrupt my time behind closed bathroom doors. She usually leaves me alone... except on Mother's Day, when there's this VERY WELL KNOWN memo about how moms are supposed to pee and shower in peace for just one day. Apparently she has things backwards and gives me bathroom peace every other flippin day of the year except for Mother's Day, when she decided she absolutely needed to shove a peppermint lifesaver under the door while I was peeing. But then, she needed to reclaim her peppermint, so her tiny fingers appeared and swept it away. I was laughing hard enough already, but when I opened the door, I was glad my bladder was already empty, as she sat there wearing her pajamas and sunglasses on the floor. I died. She's too cute.

I did then enjoy a peaceful shower, put on my face, and quickly got us ready to get out the door. I ate a no-longer-warm bagel in the car on the way to get some special Mother's Day photos done. It was the perfect way to spend the morning, and now we'll have some absolutely amazing photos to remember this day. Complete perfection.

Then we started our tradition of delivering flowers to the grandmas. First stop: Grammy's work. Second stop: grandma and grandpa's house. Where she refused to eat a happy meal, had an emotional breakdown about taking a nap until grandma busted out the big stuffed polar bear and mommy ended up lying in bed next to her until she fell asleep, and then spent the afternoon keeping her grandparents young. On the way home, we had an impromptu Frozen sing-a-long, then played the rhyming game. When we got home, she went to play in her room while I made dinner. I threw out my back moving my mini-fridge out of my kitchen. She announced from her doorway "I'm gonna close my door so I don't hear your noise" because me making dinner was getting in the way of her ipad watching time. Then she sat down and ate a quarter of a hot dog, some corn, and half of a hot dog bun while watching "Blue's Clues" Birthday episode for like the third time this weekend. I went to grab her plate from her, thinking she was finished, to which she replied "I'm not, beautiful girl" and had a few more bites of the bun while one of her arms was wrapped around my waist. Gooey insides. Then it was bath time, which was uneventful, aside from her putting a washcloth over my hand "to keep you safe from the monsters because I love you so much." Then as I was drying her off, a cockroach crawled out from under her bath mat about a foot away from us. I shuffled her off to the side, then sprayed the hell out of the bug with kitchen cleaner until it scurried away and died in very underwhelming fashion next to the toilet. The child asked if I was going to clean it up and I said "I will... later. Now brush your teeth" which actually means "it's going to stay right there next to the toilet until my boyfriend comes over and takes care of it and until then we aren't going to use this bathroom for anything else in case it comes back to life as a roach zombie." And scene.

I tucked her into bed tonight, my heart full and happy. We had our moments, of course, because she's 3 and can't control herself. And I'm a mom and I get frustrated. And then ten seconds later we're cuddling and laughing again because we love each other and she's pretty wonderful like that. But at the end of the day, I'm grateful that I get to call her my daughter. She's astonishing.

5 years ago, I cried myself to sleep on Mother's Day. I sifted through my Facebook feed of happy moms with sweet little babies, pregnancy announcements, happy families... and thought, why not me? All I ever wanted was a family of my own, and there I was, with recent punctures in my veins from various blood tests and an empty bottle of fertility medications but no baby in my arms or my belly. I didn't know if I'd ever have a child of my own, and ever get to celebrate Mother's Day in the way I had always dreamed.

So today was incredible. It was busy, and noisy, and messy, and frustrating, and hilarious, and sweet, and exhausting. My back is killing me, my head hurts, and I'm pretty sure I forgot to take my blood pressure medications today. But hey, my hotdog was still warm when I sat down to eat it.  It was the best Mother's Day ever, because I got to be a mother. Maybe one day I'll have another "day off" on Mother's Day but... maybe not. I have every other week of not being a mother, so really, I don't even need a day "off." I need my days "on." They are the best.

There's another reason I'll remember this day...
I will cling tightly to the feeling I had deep in my chest last night when I rounded the corner towards my kitchen and saw two gorgeous mason jars sitting on the counter, each filled with bright wildflowers. And I'll remember how that feeling intensified as I listened to the story of how someone I admire so much put the whole thing together, from thinking of me when he saw a blue mason jar at work, to driving his truck around to different spots to pick the various colors of flowers he knew I loved. That feeling... of being important, and cherished, and loved in a way that I had never felt before... I'll never forget it. And I'll never settle for someone who doesn't make me feel that way. Future self, please don't settle for less than that.

I'll also remember it for how empowered I feel. Disclaimer: I sometimes feel awkward calling myself a "single mom." I almost feel like I don't belong in the club, because I didn't "earn" my wings. When my marriage ended, I walked away with a little cash (not much), a reliable car, enough furniture, and the means with which to start over. I have a degree and a stable career. I, in no way, had to pull myself out of a giant hole to get here. I had a good start. But so far, I'm kind of rocking it. I learned that I'm really good with money and budgeting, to the point that my savings account is growing before my eyes. I'm living a simple, yet happy life. I have enough, and nothing in excess. I'm not at all struggling with my parenting... in fact, I feel like an even better parent now than I was before. I've dealt with sickness, and vomit, and middle-of-the-night thunderstorms, mornings that started way too early, temper tantrums that my whole building could probably hear, and lots of messes that I was too tired to clean. But I'm alive and none of that has brought me to anywhere near my breaking point. In fact, I haven't even had an "I can't do this" moment. Somehow I manage to keep this household running ALL BY MYSELF. I don't get handouts. I really don't get much help with anything, because I don't need it. I got this. I have support, of course, and plenty of people who encourage me and keep me going. But I am largely doing this on my own and I feel so empowered by it. I worried how I'd take on all of the responsibilities that were previously handled by my ex, like the finances and some of the chores that he would do, in addition to everything I already did and working full-time too. I still hate doing dishes, but I do them. I make dinner for me and the kiddo every night, and I carve out some "me" time every week. I soak up the solitude and reflect, and generally feel very fulfilled and happy. On the weeks that I don't have my child, I stay busy with running, hiking, camping, and cooking fancy meals and getting my apartment cleaned and organized and ready for another hectic week of motherhood. Rinse, repeat.

So here I am. On this Single Mother's Day... sore and tired, but so very happy.