There are times when, as a sole parent, I feel as if I’m carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders.
When I say “sole” parent, I mean only parent. There is no other parent around to pick up the kids every other weekend. There is no one that can in-case-of-emergency run and grab the kids from school and make sure they are fed while I wrap up whatever it is I happen to be caught up in. There is no one sending me a check every month to cover our joint childcare expenses. There is no one with whom I can converse to come to a joint decision regarding any aspect of our children’s lives. There is no one else who is obligated to spend time with these kids so mommy can get a break…
There is just me.
Just me trying to figure out how to take care of two kids – physically, financially, emotionally. Just me trying to make all of the right decisions regarding their lives and futures, their education, their social activities. Just me paying the bills, buying the food, clothing them and trying to keep up with all of the “things kids these days need.”
And I’m often very exhausted by it.
And I often think, “I didn’t sign up for this.”
And sometimes I get get angry.
And sometimes my kids get the short end of the stick because Mommy is sad about having been left here to do this alone. Because Mommy is annoyed – for lack of a better term – at having to do everything by herself. Mommy is frustrated by the fact that she is the only cook, cleaner, chauffeur, laundress, bath-giver, lunch-fixer, problem solver, story-listener, lap and cuddle-provider, cash-dispenser, nurse, worrier, warrior, protector, nose-wiper, butt-wiper, hair-doer, driving instructor, dictator, last-minute project completer, tech support, emotional support and life guide.
And I usually end up feeling bad for my action/reaction/inaction. However, I’m usually quick to excuse myself because, after all, my husband’s dead. And I didn’t ask for this. And it isn’t fair. And I should be given a little bit of slack… Right?
This morning, as I stood locked in the bathroom alone (the only place of privacy from my 4-year-old shadow) staring at myself in the mirror, my attention suddenly shifted from my own reflection to the little person I could feel standing right outside the door, from whom I was hiding and who was, nonetheless, anxiously awaiting an invitation to join me in that tiny bathroom.
And it occurred to me, as clear as day: My kids didn’t ask for this either.
How unfair I have been to them for thinking “I” instead of “we”! How unfair I have been to consider my loss, my pain, above theirs! How unfair I have been to compound all that they didn’t ask for, with more stuff they did not ask for; negative experiences they certainly did not and do not deserve. I, of all people, should know better!
They are beautiful, emotional, trusting little people who have asked for nothing but protection, guidance and love. The universe will undoubtedly hand them plenty more of that which they never ask for. It is my duty as their mother – as their sole parent – to protect them from such things, and to provide them with only those things that they do deserve, and none of the things that they do not.
I am a firm believer in fresh starts, and there is no better time, in my estimation, than right now for me to start viewing my role as parent with this fresh perspective. With all of the hurt they have suffered, I must ensure that they are not forced to suffer mine.
“Parents exist to teach the child, but also they must learn what the child has to teach them; and the child has a very great deal to teach them.” ~ Arnold Bennett
Tags: anger, Depression, grief, guilt, hope
My wife and I have a 8 month old son and with two of us our son is still handsfull. We are also lucky to have the support of my parents and my borthers and sisters who always offer to help babay sit e.t.c.
I can only imagine what you are going through as it is really tough out there to bring up a child on your own but on the other hand I really do admire your courage to look at things through a different perspective and to become a better person in raising your child.
It will be tough in th ebeginign but it will all be worth it all one when you look back at it
Stay strong and keep at it one day at a time
My experience has been very similar to yours. Fifteen years ago my wonderful husband died suddenly at age 40 leaving me to raise our 8 year-old son and 4 year-old daughter. Even with the help and financial support of my parents, who had just moved to Florida, and my husband’s mother, I felt exactly as you did about the unfairness of it all, about having to do it all by myself without my life-partner, and that I didn’t sign up for this either. I have been angry about this for a long time.
My two bright and beautiful children are now 18 and 22 year-old successful college students. They have managed to come through the difficult years of growing up without a father with the love of family and friends – my “village” – who have helped to see them through. As for me, after all this time, I still deeply feel the unfairness of losing the love of my life and wish there were someone to take care of me for a change. Until I read your article, I didn’t recognize that my children didn’t ask for our situation either and that is is unfair of me to put my pain above theirs. Your words have put things into perspective for me in a way I had not thought of in the 15 years since our great loss. Thank you, Stephanie.
My husband passed away on 16th Feb 2009.we have 3 daughters aged 4,7,16.It has been a tough year for us from moving houses, changing schools, changing routines,changing churches, missing out on Dad daughter days and family days, mummy making wrong decisions and above all thinking about me, me, me and how the heck I am supposed to sort out so many things..alone, unsure,.. and how unfair it all is and yes i lock myself away in my bedroom after another of those days…. thanks for your letter i realise its not all about me,the girls need me and yet i dont know if am doing anything right or not, i worry about them growing up without a dad figure and have been quick to date, only to realise that is not the answer and still dont know the answers.. it is still very very hard.
I know what I am going to say seems selfish but they are goint to grow up and get married and I will be there without my husband, their Dad. The matter of the fact their future is still ahead building their nest and their family, with no doubt I hopefully will be there too, but I will be there on my own without sharing with the person I married and wanted to share this with. It is not about the children, I want to grieve without me over thinking about them all the time. My children do all the things they normally have done but I will not stop being emotional over my husbands pas… This thing we need to get our selves to gether without showing raw emtion is nonesense, This is life and we need to get them prepared of the real world and not keep them in cotton wool. They are days when we have minimal contact, school, dinner and homework time but I do obsereve and actually found out they aquired surviving skills and stoped asking things and do it forthemsleves. . Please, there is no way I am goint to go back to ‘normality as it is not possible we lost our LOVE. I love my children but this crazy thing that we are to over protective and do not let them feel different emotions they might encounter in adult life is absurd. Everyone should do how they want to cope but please do feed, wash and clothes them, no neglect. I will never get on with life!
I can so identify with what you’ve written. I love the term “sole parent”. For me, single parent just wasn’t saying what I felt. Being a sole parent is very different than what single parents experience. I too feel that anger and hopelessness at times, but then I do remember that my kids didn’t choose this either. We were dealt this card together and although I’m the only grown up in the house, they too bear the burden of being the children of a sole parent. Thank you so much for writing and for giving me a way to articulate the way I feel as a “sole” parent.