Lynsey -- Days 2-5

Last year, through the fine and exact (or final and extreme, depending on how you look at it) art of divorce, I became a single mom.  Obviously this was not the plan years ago when my children were born, but when the inivitable happened and my unit of four became a little team of three, there was plenty of good that came with the change and we are learning how to navigate this path, no matter how unintended it was.

That said, it’s never easy.  The little changes that you don’t think much about are the hardest to get used to.  If someone has a nightmare, it’s me and only me that gets up to comfort and calm.  If library books and school lunches are to be remembered and I forget, there is no back-up plan in place.  There are absolutely no sick days, no regulated 15 minute breaks, and positively no dull  (or restful) moments.  The times where I used to walk (run) away from it all and hop in the car for a 20 minute drive to blow off steam after their father got home from work, have become 10 minutes of locking myself in my closet, pillow over my head, tears rolling down my face, kids screaming on the other side of the door.  Occasional sleep-in days have been replaced with a new 8 cup a day coffee habit.  The ability to have one parent run a midnight errand for Children’s Motrin while the other stayed with sick kiddos has become me trying to be prepared for anything in advance, and when I fail, leaning on my close village of family and friends to handle the co-parenting tasks that this single parent can’t always do alone.

The ex-husband and I have a relationship that ebbs and flows.  Moments of putting anger and resentments aside and relying on a friendship that is a decade and a half in the making, often give way to moments of remembering why this single parent situation happened in the first place.  For all the books there are on divorce and co-parenting, there are no books on your divorce and your co-parenting except for the one you are continuously writing yourself each day. The one where there is no skipping ahead a couple of chapters to remind yourself that it all works out.  And all the patience in all the world can’t change someone into being what you need them to be, if they were never that in the first place.

Yesterday I had a sick kiddo, which isn’t a big deal.  I was somewhat prepared, stocked well with meds and juice, and had a friend waiting in the wings for a Target run, if needed.  I was enjoying those quiet moments camped out on the sofa you get with a sick babe that remind you of just how precious and amazing this parenting thing is.  Around 9pm things took a crazy turn and when a situation of coughing up blood started, it was clear that I would be having my first ever solo parenting night that involved a very sick kid, another perfectly well and sleeping kid, an ER trip, cashing in a lot of favors and really long night.  It was this type of night that I knew would happen at some point, but was exactly the kind of thing that terrified me about this single mom gig—knowing it was out there in the distance and that I would have to figure it all out on my own.

But…..

Favors were called in. The medical expert in my village pointed me in the right direction.  Grandma, who lives a mile away for this exact reason, did a late night commute over to slumber on my sofa so that the well kid didn’t have to be woken and dragged along.  And…..I made decisions.  Without a back-up, without the other parent available or here to help me or reassume me that I was doing the right thing, that everything would be fine, I created a plan of action all by myself.  It sounds so small saying it now, but in the moment when you are the only person to make choices for a completely dependent creature, it’s scary.  Scary wrapped up in a big ball of Frustration over even being in the situation, with a side of This Is Total And Complete BS that you’re doing it alone.  Served with a tall glass of Tired. 

But…….

Dessert is a piece of Empowerment with chocolate sauce.  Because you can.  And you do.  And then you realize you are better at this than you thought, more prepared than you realized and more capable than you give yourself credit for.

The village comes through--they always do.  Grandma likes being needed and it's a good reminder that she is.  Kids are grateful for their Mama and no matter how much she is questioning herself, they are only in complete trust of her.  The boy that makes everything better offers to help, even though he doesn’t have to.  And even though you don’t take him up on it, the offer itself reminds you that you are not as alone as you feel.

And it’s not that scary after all.