I have been hitting the wall lately with a thought that is dragging me down. I chose to be a single mother and now that things are beginning to get interesting I feel like I may not have done the boy or myself justice in choosing to keep him. There were just so many signs from the universe in the direction of having that kind of love in my life. Recently, I find myself being selfish, self pitying and feeling lonely.
He is a joy, full of hope and dreams. I know he isn’t unhappy mostly. I do hear him saying, “Mommy play with me more”. And there is the guilt of not having enough time to spend with him as well. Being a single parent isn’t for the meek! I do have the strength to accomplish, but I am feeling run down.
I struggle with self esteem issues and maybe I am just using this as an excuse to “find one more thing that I can’t do right”. Maybe it’s too much work and not enough wine. Maybe I need a break! Time to pull out a mirror and do some positive affirmations. Scream some good stuff at that hole of self-doubt.
Oh well… One more day, one more dollar, one more dream come true…
Bless you! Every night before you put your little one to bed, ask him what he is thankful for today. Then tell him five things that you are thankful for. Don't forget to include the little things like a warm bed and a pillow to sleep on, healthy food to eat, the fact that you have your health and your child has his good health, that you have him in your life every day. Do this every night. I know it sounds trite - but it really is helpful.
Respect your child, respect yourself. Love your child, love yourself. Be grateful that you have each other.
hippiechick
Did you ever grow anything in the garden of your mind?
Location: topsy turvy land
Posted:
Dec 3, 2010 - 4:12pm
Having raised two children and one husband to adulthood , I can tell you that it's true that being a mother is a mostly thankless job. I think they don't really appreciate you until they have children of their own and you're an old lady. Your kids fight you tooth and nail to do what they want to do, and you have to be the adult and teach them what's important to become an adult.
Try involving the little one in helping you do household chores, nothing too heavy, just enough to help him realize that you are a team. Make a game of it.
And I have recommended this book before, the best book on child rearing ever, called "Children the Challenge" by Rudolf Driekurs.
My advice, based on having known several single moms, is to be careful not to let feelings of guilt convince you that you need to compensate by overindulging your wonderful little man.
I know (not firsthand but secondhand) how easy it is to feel guilty if you are a single parent. The "nuclear" family is the ideal that gets waved/thrust in your face on a regular basis. You worry that your child will be teased because he/she doesn't have a "mommy/daddy". You maybe even feel some guilt over not still being part of a couple, not matter how bad the relationship was. If the partner/spouse is gone/passed away, you can still feel guilt that you are being selfish by not seeking another partner/spouse to fill the "hole" left by the father/mother. Etc. etc. And kids are perceptive and can pick up on these feelings. It can become harder and harder to say "no", to turn down requests both reasonable and unreasonable, when you feel guilt. But saying no, setting limits, is an important part of parenting. Your son needs this from you, even if you know that saying no to a request will disappoint him now
Don't feel bad that you have to say, "mommy can't play with you right now because she has work to do, and my work is important to me and to you", or "mommy can't play with you right now because she needs a little time to herself". Promise him you'll play with him later when you have a chance. I know you'll keep it.
I find that what I have the hardest time with is asking for help when I need it. When I wasn't working many hours, trying to do the 'stay-at-home' mom thing, I found I would rearrange any schedule I'd made to accommodate a playtime/watch someone else's child at the drop of the hat. One thing I have found, since I am now working a pretty hectic day in the school district while my kids are at school, is I am easier on myself by saying "sorry, can't do that today." Some days, like yesterday, it results in tears for a 5 year old that thinks he's the master of his own social calendar, but most days it works just fine. I'm happy to be able to say that I was at home for the most part, until my children began school, but I also would bristle at the assumptions made by others about my not being employed outside the home; I approached my staying at home as my full-time plus job. I hope this doesn't seem totally off topic, but I guess I'm just trying to point out that the 'staying at home' gig isn't all bon-bons and naps. Your job list is doubled and then some, M. By being a working, single parent you are doing more than double the work. But, you are strong and you should never doubt that. And, you should never question yourself when you have to say, "no, we can't do that today..." because you know when you are at your limit. B&G Club is a fine resource, as is BigBroBigSis and be sure to view them and utilize them as that valuable resource. When your love, talent and devotion to your child is mixed with the structure and resource of those in your world, you will all be the stronger.
Soon enough they won't want a thing to do with you, and that'll hurt.
And as many picutes I have of my kids smiling, the thing that stands out to me the most is looking at the video of my 3 year old (now 18) coming in from the backyard while I've got the camera out, filming his brother learning to walk.
Daddy, will you play soccer ball with me?
and I make an excuse about how I can't (and I probably couldn't, because it would leave his brother alone in the house).
He says OK and takes the ball and goes back outside alone.
You know, fatigue and confusion and a clean house and movies and other responsibilities will come and go, but that little tiny moment still bugs me. I could've done it.
Soon enough they won't want a thing to do with you, and that'll hurt.
And as many picutes I have of my kids smiling, the thing that stands out to me the most is looking at the video of my 3 year old (now 18) coming in from the backyard while I've got the camera out, filming his brother learning to walk.
Daddy, will you play soccer ball with me?
and I make an excuse about how I can't (and I probably couldn't, because it would leave his brother alone in the house).
He says OK and takes the ball and goes back outside alone.
You know, fatigue and confusion and a clean house and movies and other responsibilities will come and go, but that little tiny moment still bugs me. I could've done it.
Soon enough they won't want a thing to do with you, and that'll hurt.
And as many picutes I have of my kids smiling, the thing that stands out to me the most is looking at the video of my 3 year old (now 18) coming in from the backyard while I've got the camera out, filming his brother learning to walk.
Daddy, will you play soccer ball with me?
and I make an excuse about how I can't (and I probably couldn't, because it would leave his brother alone in the house).
He says OK and takes the ball and goes back outside alone.
You know, fatigue and confusion and a clean house and movies and other responsibilities will come and go, but that little tiny moment still bugs me. I could've done it.
Soon enough they won't want a thing to do with you, and that'll hurt.
And as many picutes I have of my kids smiling, the thing that stands out to me the most is looking at the video of my 3 year old (now 18) coming in from the backyard while I've got the camera out, filming his brother learning to walk.
Daddy, will you play soccer ball with me?
and I make an excuse about how I can't (and I probably couldn't, because it would leave his brother alone in the house).
He says OK and takes the ball and goes back outside alone.
You know, fatigue and confusion and a clean house and movies and other responsibilities will come and go, but that little tiny moment still bugs me. I could've done it.
Soon enough they won't want a thing to do with you, and that'll hurt.
And as many picutes I have of my kids smiling, the thing that stands out to me the most is looking at the video of my 3 year old (now 18) coming in from the backyard while I've got the camera out, filming his brother learning to walk.
Daddy, will you play soccer ball with me?
and I make an excuse about how I can't (and I probably couldn't, because it would leave his brother alone in the house).
He says OK and takes the ball and goes back outside alone.
You know, fatigue and confusion and a clean house and movies and other responsibilities will come and go, but that little tiny moment still bugs me. I could've done it.
Soon enough they won't want a thing to do with you, and that'll hurt.
And as many picutes I have of my kids smiling, the thing that stands out to me the most is looking at the video of my 3 year old (now 18) coming in from the backyard while I've got the camera out, filming his brother learning to walk.
Daddy, will you play soccer ball with me?
and I make an excuse about how I can't (and I probably couldn't, because it would leave his brother alone in the house).
He says OK and takes the ball and goes back outside alone.
You know, fatigue and confusion and a clean house and movies and other responsibilities will come and go, but that little tiny moment still bugs me. I could've done it.
Soon enough they won't want a thing to do with you, and that'll hurt.
And as many picutes I have of my kids smiling, the thing that stands out to me the most is looking at the video of my 3 year old (now 18) coming in from the backyard while I've got the camera out, filming his brother learning to walk.
Daddy, will you play soccer ball with me?
and I make an excuse about how I can't (and I probably couldn't, because it would leave his brother alone in the house).
He says OK and takes the ball and goes back outside alone.
You know, fatigue and confusion and a clean house and movies and other responsibilities will come and go, but that little tiny moment still bugs me. I could've done it.
Soon enough they won't want a thing to do with you, and that'll hurt.
And as many picutes I have of my kids smiling, the thing that stands out to me the most is looking at the video of my 3 year old (now 18) coming in from the backyard while I've got the camera out, filming his brother learning to walk.
Daddy, will you play soccer ball with me?
and I make an excuse about how I can't (and I probably couldn't, because it would leave his brother alone in the house).
He says OK and takes the ball and goes back outside alone.
You know, fatigue and confusion and a clean house and movies and other responsibilities will come and go, but that little tiny moment still bugs me. I could've done it.
Soon enough they won't want a thing to do with you, and that'll hurt.
And as many picutes I have of my kids smiling, the thing that stands out to me the most is looking at the video of my 3 year old (now 18) coming in from the backyard while I've got the camera out, filming his brother learning to walk.
Daddy, will you play soccer ball with me?
and I make an excuse about how I can't (and I probably couldn't, because it would leave his brother alone in the house).
He says OK and takes the ball and goes back outside alone.
You know, fatigue and confusion and a clean house and movies and other responsibilities will come and go, but that little tiny moment still bugs me. I could've done it.
Soon enough they won't want a thing to do with you, and that'll hurt.
And as many picutes I have of my kids smiling, the thing that stands out to me the most is looking at the video of my 3 year old (now 18) coming in from the backyard while I've got the camera out, filming his brother learning to walk.
Daddy, will you play soccer ball with me?
and I make an excuse about how I can't (and I probably couldn't, because it would leave his brother alone in the house).
He says OK and takes the ball and goes back outside alone.
You know, fatigue and confusion and a clean house and movies and other responsibilities will come and go, but that little tiny moment still bugs me. I could've done it.
Soon enough they won't want a thing to do with you, and that'll hurt.
And as many picutes I have of my kids smiling, the thing that stands out to me the most is looking at the video of my 3 year old (now 18) coming in from the backyard while I've got the camera out, filming his brother learning to walk.
Daddy, will you play soccer ball with me?
and I make an excuse about how I can't (and I probably couldn't, because it would leave his brother alone in the house).
He says OK and takes the ball and goes back outside alone.
You know, fatigue and confusion and a clean house and movies and other responsibilities will come and go, but that little tiny moment still bugs me. I could've done it.
Soon enough they won't want a thing to do with you, and that'll hurt.
And as many picutes I have of my kids smiling, the thing that stands out to me the most is looking at the video of my 3 year old (now 18) coming in from the backyard while I've got the camera out, filming his brother learning to walk.
Daddy, will you play soccer ball with me?
and I make an excuse about how I can't (and I probably couldn't, because it would leave his brother alone in the house).
He says OK and takes the ball and goes back outside alone.
You know, fatigue and confusion and a clean house and movies and other responsibilities will come and go, but that little tiny moment still bugs me. I could've done it.
Soon enough they won't want a thing to do with you, and that'll hurt.
And as many picutes I have of my kids smiling, the thing that stands out to me the most is looking at the video of my 3 year old (now 18) coming in from the backyard while I've got the camera out, filming his brother learning to walk.
Daddy, will you play soccer ball with me?
and I make an excuse about how I can't (and I probably couldn't, because it would leave his brother alone in the house).
He says OK and takes the ball and goes back outside alone.
You know, fatigue and confusion and a clean house and movies and other responsibilities will come and go, but that little tiny moment still bugs me. I could've done it.
Soon enough they won't want a thing to do with you, and that'll hurt.
And as many picutes I have of my kids smiling, the thing that stands out to me the most is looking at the video of my 3 year old (now 18) coming in from the backyard while I've got the camera out, filming his brother learning to walk.
Daddy, will you play soccer ball with me?
and I make an excuse about how I can't (and I probably couldn't, because it would leave his brother alone in the house).
He says OK and takes the ball and goes back outside alone.
You know, fatigue and confusion and a clean house and movies and other responsibilities will come and go, but that little tiny moment still bugs me. I could've done it.
, I can tell you that it's true that being a mother is a mostly thankless job. I think they don't really appreciate you until they have children of their own and you're an old lady. Your kids fight you tooth and nail to do what they want to do, and you have to be the adult and teach them what's important to become an adult.
