A Look Back on This Tough Gig Called Parenting

So I was recently with a couple other single moms enjoying the evening with some much needed vino. The one woman said to me, "Oh. You only had ONE child…Not to minimize, but…"

And then I quickly and willingly minimized my situation of raising one child alone for the sake of politeness.

"Yep! I had it easy!"

But I didn't.

And it got me thinking…

None of us raising children, whether one or more…whether we are co-parenting after a divorce or a death…even when we are raising children with partners - It is never easy.

I do that a lot to myself. Especially lately. Now that my daughter has left the nest, I find myself minimizing my own efforts as a parent when around other parents who still have children at home. Yes. I raised one child. Yes, she was a good kid. And, yes, she is a sophomore in college and doing well. Yes. I kept her fed and clothed and a roof over her head and LOVED.

And I did it alone.

That's another thing that happens to me. People often ask me where my daughter's father is. I usually cringe when this question comes up…but then I plainly just tell them: I don’t really know.

And that's ok.

But more often than not I get these looks of feels like judgement and horror. Like it's my fault. Or how could I possibly allow my daughter to grow up without her father. Or worse…looks of 'you poor wretched thing.'

I feel as though they think it was my fault he is not in the picture.

It wasn't though.

And I think that both my daughter and I are stronger together today for having gone through our journey on our own.

So when I'm asked that dreaded question, I often apologize for it…"Well, you see, there were special circumstances. And, uhm…It was for the best."

That is the truth.

But here's what I don't say:

It was fucking hard raising one child by myself.

Now I won't get into the comparisons of whether it's easier or harder to raise one vs two or more…Because it's ALL hard. Every situation is unique and just because there's ONE child does not mean that having more means the problems are merely multiplied - they are complicated in ways that parents with more than one child wouldn't know and vice versa. And it's the comparisons we make with one another that keep us from appreciating each other's efforts and therefore allowing us to support each other.

So, I'll tell you from my vantage point: It was hard raising one. It was hard raising her without the support of her other parent. It was hard not having someone to bounce ideas off of when shit got hard. It was hard maintaining my calm in the middle of a tantrum. It was hard coming up with my own parenting goals. It was hard playing both good cop and bad cop. It was hard being in control of the words I said to her knowing that those words could impact her self worth. It was hard following through especially when I felt I had no energy left to hold my head up much less to hold my ground as a parent. It was hard knowing that I, alone, was responsible for whether or not I'd screw her up for life.

And more…

It was hard not receiving financial help in the way of child support. It was hard leaving my abusive husband when my daughter was 2 because I felt like, maybe I could support him though his addiction and mental illness, even if it meant absorbing the abuse. It was hard going through a divorce with restraining orders, ongoing court dates, fearing for my life on multiple occasions, working an almost minimum wage job which did not allow for sick time so I couldn't risk taking time off to cope or heal or mend or heaven forbid - get sick…

…and all the while ensuring my daughter felt happy and safe and secure.

It was hard building a career from the ground up, choosing not to finish college so I could be present for my daughter - making her my priority every day. There were countless nights I'd go to sleep worrying if I'd have enough money to feed her the next day. It was long days of cleaning houses in addition to my hotel job, while researching how and eventually working daily at getting a better job…a life of financial stability for my little family of two.

It was tears and heartache and fear…(of which I did not show her)

and it was very lonely.

But, we survived. Shit, we THRIVED. I was making six figures by the time she was in the 7th grade. So all of that hard work and bloodshed and nights of going to bed not knowing about tomorrow did pay off. I no longer had the financial worries of maybe not eating tomorrow. And that gave me more room emotionally to parent her through the rest.

As she got older I rarely had only one child in the house…She was always surrounded by her friends. We'd all go on vacations together or camping or I'd have a hoard of teenagers at my house on the weekends. Or sometimes we'd have an extra person living with us…we shared our home of love and security with others.


Now, as I am writing this I can see how it may look like I'm trying to gain a huge, "Congrats! You rock!"

I'm not.

This is what I DO WANT. My point to all of this rambling: 

DO NOT minimize the efforts of others.

Because it may seem like someone has/had it easy raising kids on the outside…they appear to be in one solid piece. But you'll never know all of the mending they had to do of thousands of shattered pieces of the past to make the whole you see today. You'll never know about all of the pride they swallowed in order to make ends meet.

Here's a side story example: I wear a beautiful diamond ring. I wear it ALL of the time. I never take it off. And people often compliment me on how pretty it is (cuz it IS). Recently I was out for a girl's night with my BFF when we got to talking with a gentleman there…he pointed to my ring and said, "Wow. You must be rich."

I get that comment a lot.

But I don't wear the ring for the attention. Or for a claim of status. Or for any other bullshit reason like that.

So let me tell you the story about my diamond ring… It was my grandmother's. It was the diamond from her wedding set. When my grandfather suddenly passed away quite young, she had the diamond removed from her wedding ring and custom designed a new setting. She wore it all of the time.

It is beautiful.

She gave me this ring when I was in college. I tried not to wear it out of fear of losing it. So I put it into a safe deposit box. When I married my ex husband - I knew the ring would not be safe from him selling it had he known about it. So I never told him I had it. I never told him about my safe deposit box. When I left him, I couldn't afford to pay for the box any longer and took the ring home.

Then I started wearing it.

It felt good to wear it. It made me think of my grandparents and about how much they loved each other. It made me think of my grandmother and how brave she was as a young widow.

Then one day my daughter had strep throat. I needed to buy her some antibiotics. I needed $35 which I did not have nor did I know where to get it from that night…

So I took my ring to the pawn shop and traded it in for a $35 loan. She got her medicine and recovered.

And when I paid the pawn dealers what I owed them, I put my ring back on and vowed never to take it off again.

When I look at my ring now, I remember the hard times. But I also remember that those times are in the past and my daughter and I kicked ass everyday to get through it. I think it's a good reminder of where we've been so it keeps my ass grounded and grateful for all I have in my life.

Here's what I am getting at:

Reserve judgement of others - especially of yourself.

Just because someone is wearing a big diamond ring doesn't mean they've had it easy. Shit. I've yet to meet anyone who's life is a perfect cakewalk. You never know what hardships lurk in people's lives behind closed doors. You never know what burdens people are carrying. You never know that their hearts might be breaking the minute the lights turn off at night when they lay their head down- despite their daily smile, or that shiny diamond ring.

Support each other.

I give kudos to my boyfriend's ex-wife. She is raising two wonderful boys, and she accepted me not only as the new girlfriend…but as her friend. A genuine friend. Not many ex's do that, but she does. And it makes me so happy that I can pop over to her house when my boyfriend/her ex is out of town, have dinner with her and their children, and laugh & talk with a bottle of wine late into the evening.

And what she may not know is this - she is giving me the beautiful opportunity of sharing in the lives of their children. I couldn't ask for a better gift. And I couldn't be more grateful.

That’s what supporting each other as women looks like.

That's what having each other's backs as parents looks like.

That's what genuine love and compassion looks like.

And it feels fucking great.

And when we have each other's backs…when we have compassion and empathy for others…when we kick judgements to the curb…

When we LOVE…

Our children feel that love, too.

And knowing that our children feel loved is the best gift in the world.

So here's a shout out to all of you parents rocking this child rearing thing! And! (While I'm at it..) Here's a shout out to all of our friends who didn't have children but who support and love us, too. (Cuz you have your share of judgments from others as well.)

Shit WILL work out.

No matter how bleak, how frightening, or how hard your days are right now… you will survive. You will thrive. Your children are going to be great - as long as you love FIRST.

And I am here to say, we never did go hungry. Not once.

There's no greater way of getting through the hard times than focusing on the good and all of the love you have.

And while, yes, it was hard raising my daughter alone…I wouldn't change the past for anything in the world. We had our share of hardships, but when I think back most of what I remember is all of the good. Even when things were really hard when I was first single, we still had so much fun. Like the times when we'd take walks around the block of our little apartment with my toddler riding her tricycle. Or our times at the library. Or when we'd take a day hike in the mountains. Or when we'd feed the ducks. Or when we'd play at the park. Or when we'd go camping. Or when we'd read together before bed. There were many many fond memories of the love we had even when I felt like I couldn't hold it all together - she kept me going.

I thank my friends for their support and encouragement. My brother (you were there for us when we needed you the most). The Smiths. My daughter and I would not be where we are today if not for your love. I'm grateful you had my back when I needed it the most.

I thank those who have come into my life after my daughter left for college. The mom to my boyfriend's children. To my BFF Mary who supported me through my empty nest transition. To Jim who shows me unconditional love every single day.

And, of course…thanks to my daughter. You were patient and understanding as a child even though you did not realize the scope of what we were dealing with. You were brave and sweet. And now, you are kicking ass at life. You are loving and compassionate.

I couldn't be more proud.

Finally…mothers, fathers, anyone out there breathing in daily…

DO NOT minimize your OWN efforts.

I will no longer minimize mine for the mere sake of politeness. And you hope you don't either. It's a tough job, this thing called life. And if you can get through it with your smile still in tact, then KUDOS! You should be proud! It's OK to step back from the chaos, take a look at the good work you are doing, and pat yourself on the back. It's not arrogant or selfish or egregious to give yourself some credit now and again.

So here's a shout out to my little family of two. I won't minimize what we accomplished anymore. We did it, baby girl!

Much love to you and to all who loved us through it all…to all who love us now…and to all who may not know us but are kicking ass at life every day.