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Most of the time, I don’t mind being a single mom.  Most of the time, I actually like the fact that I don’t have to check with someone, on a regular basis, before I make most decisions with regards to what I am going to do, where and how I spend my money, and what the kids are going to be involved in.  Don’t get me wrong, I would love to have someone to share decision-making so that it is not always just me.  But, the truth of the matter is that just because there may be someone else in the home, there isn’t necessarily someone to share the burden.  Too many times, I have watched married friends be the sole person parenting, always having the kids, always taking care of the home, always doing the shopping or cooking or cleaning, etc.  Too many times the married friend, in my view, is in no better shape than me or is, actually, in far worse shape.  Because, I would much rather be doing it alone than to be doing it with someone and still feel as if I am in this on my own.

Most of the time, I don’t mind being a single mom because I know that although the grass looks to be a deep beautiful green of pastures perfectly laid, it is not greener.  It is just as full of weeds and dry spots and the gophers are just as destructive.

Most of the time I don’t mind but when I do, it really gets me down.  It’s the one time that I am trying to pursue my dream/passion/desire/need to be free and I have to first try to figure out who is going to watch the kid.  Or it’s the many times that I opt to just stay home rather than to go through the trouble of trying to make accommodations for him or her in order that I may accommodate something for me.

I am on 24 hours a day, seven days a week and although having someone else in the home doesn’t always mean relief, you better believe that if there were someone else in my home, there would be relief for me because “I can do bad all by myself.” So, it is when I need to try to figure out arrangements for the Boy so that I can pursue my photography work that I get frustrated with the fact that his father is not here.  Or when he is up all night with an asthma attack and it is just me to nurse him through the night.  Or when he has an event and she has one and the other he has one too.  There is only one of me. I have to be everything for all of them.

I have done this before.  I have struggled with their schedules and my schedule and my pursuit of my passion that interfered with their pursuit of a full day in school.  I made arrangements and creatively worked my way around and over all barriers.  Yet, it is as if I am starting anew.  All over again working on something that will definitely put a strain on my stress level because he is first and she is first and the other he is first and I take second to the shared first of the three of them and I still have to go first in order to make sure there is something for them.

See. Crazy.

Somehow I work it out.  Cursing failed relationship.  Cursing the one that cheated and the one that left.  Regardless of the work, I was in it.  Dont’ get me wrong, I am happy I am not because neither was healthy for me.  But, when I need to do me, I am pissed at them.  Because a pissed me is a hardworking-I’ll-prove-something-to-somebody me.  Even if that somebody is me.

But, I am tired and although most times I don’t really mind being a single mom, today I do.