Single Parenting. Lobotomy Please.

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For her.

 

I did not sign up for this.  I really didn’t.  When I found out I was pregnant with my daughter, I was 2 weeks into a marriage.  Things went well.  I never thought I’d turn out to be another single parent with a dead beat for my daughter’s father.  If you had told me that I would have ignored you.  Once the marriage started falling apart I had that nagging feeling in the back of my head that we’d soon be on our own.  Once my ex-husband and I divorced, he did stick around, but as a glorified babysitter.  I knew time was limited, but I still held out hope that he’d try to stick around and be a dad.

Instead.  He bolted.  I’m a single mom with little to no support network.  Quite frankly, on nights like this, I’m burnt out.  I put the Noodle to bed 15 minutes early for the sole reason that I didn’t want to cry in front of her, or lose my temper with her.  I need a break.

Everything I do, I do for my daughter or with my daughter in mind.  From the moment I wake up, until the moment I go to sleep.  It’s about Noodle.  Which is the way it should be.  I’m the one who gets her up for school in the morning, works on her reading with her at night.  I’m the one who takes her to the park and teaches her to ride her bike.  I’m the one who kisses her minuscule scratches which apparently hurt like breaking a bone and I’m the one who holds her when she asks where her Dad is and why he hasn’t come to get her.  I’m the one who she depends on for everything.

I’m the one who is stuck working as much as I can to afford a good life for her and I’m the one who has to face that I don’t spend as much time with her as her pre-school teachers do.  I’m the one who doesn’t get un-interrupted showers and I’m the one who hasn’t slept late in ages unless Noodle is curled up next to me.  I’m the one who hasn’t had a night out with out paying someone to watch her and knowing I’ll be up by 8 am to tend to her.  I’m the one who hasn’t bought *new* clothes, gotten my hair cut or even bought name brand hygiene products because I see that money better spent on my house and my daughter.

I’m the one who does it alone.  No help physically or financially from her father.  No help from my family and oh how I am jealous of the single moms who have parents who help out with babysitting.  I am on my own.

I love my daughter.  I love her more than anything on this entire planet.  But with everything else on my plate, my health especially, I need a break from this.

I’d sell my soul, hell I’d sell your soul too to get one weekend to myself.  No worrying about affording a babysitter, getting up early or having a 4 year old in the shower with me.  I want to get my hair done, buy a pair of jeans that fit, take a hot bath, go dancing and then sleep in.  I want to sit here with my coffee, during normal hours of the day and not hear chatter.  I want to do laundry with out someone plowing through the clothes.

I want a break.

I need a break.

I’d be a better parent afterwards.

 

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2 thoughts on “Single Parenting. Lobotomy Please.

  1. JenN-Moo

    It’s times like these that I hate so very much that all my friends live in different states. Because you know I would take Noodle in a heartbeat and keep her for the weekend, just so you’d get a night or two away. And I know you’d do the same for me (IF I only had one rotten boy instead of 3!)

    I <3 you lady!

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