yeah haw the single mom honky tonk blues

I know it may sound like a broken record over and over throughout this blog.. but here it comes... while I sing ya.. the single mom blues.  Over the past 5 years I've learned to go from being  dependent on my partner to get through life to an incredibly independent Woman.  I mean, have I had a choice?  Sure I have my chill dharma yoga meditation practice, but that's not quelling the fundamental need to NOT be alone all the time.  Most days, it has become routine to raise my son and walk this earth alone, but this week threw me some really hard core triggers that really made me scream F.M.L. over and over.

When Zoren was born, I remember people asking all these questions about what parenthood was like... my standard answer then was, "being Zoren's mom is easy, it's all this life around me that's really hard."  He was the most amazing, loving, happy baby.  The kid never cried, was always amenable and liked all people.  He laughed constantly and everything was near perfect for the first 19 months.

He learned to walk before he was one... and I remember him falling and hurting himself in my shop one day... he fell and cut his chin, blood spilling out of his face.  This was just the beginning.  he learned to bite me and bruised me from head to toe, he learned to talk back, Zman got in fights in preschool, hurt other kids, got hurt, became a victim of a bully, acted out, hated me, wouldn't put on his shoes every morning for two years without me yelling, sassed teachers, sassed me and all this time... I've had to maintain some sort of composure and figure out how to help and fix this kid and his phases.  We have done family counseling and sit together and talk quietly.  Sometimes he likes to meditate with me, I really like that.

I gotta tell you... nine years later... being a mom isn't always so easy. Doing it on my own has been pretty darned challenging.

In the early years when I was still married, I remember meeting single moms and wondering how the hell they do it.  I'd think that would never be me, I'd be married forever.  That would never happen to me.  Of course, what we resist, persists and sure enough here I am... touting phrases like, "Single moms rock!" and throwing around my unsure sense of liberated feminism in order to put strength behind a situation I really don't want to be in.

This entire week has been nothing but car trouble.  I can't tell you how sucky it is being a Cartarded JAP Princess getting stuck with a car that won't drive properly.  It's my own fault, I've been driving it into the ground for weeks.  Sitting on the side of the road last weekend with the car overheating... I managed to play EJ MacGyver and figured out how to aleviate the situation and get us from point A to Point B.  At first I felt empowered, like shit, I can do this!  By Sunday, I wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear... I wanted some man to come and swoop me up in his BatPlane and pick my car up with a crane and take it to his BatCave where his trusty butler fixit man would get rid of it and buy me a newer more reliable one.

Whenever I meet a guy who can fix cars, I swoon at the idea that he will be my perfect match and that I'll never struggle or suffer the plight of driving a piece of crap old car anymore... that he will save the day and save me.  I had a guy who used to work on my cars, and I loved him.  When we first started dating he took my car to the car wash and detailed it for me in the 90 degree heat... I fell in love with him right there and then.  He replaced my alternator, fixed all the little broken things, he fixed and fixed and split... ACK!

Today I was stuck on the side of the Throughway, car smoking while I stood there in my Prada high heels.  Why am I single??? I cried out... how can this be? I hate this shit, I really do.  The tow truck came, the car got fixed but I felt so vulnerable, like how is it that I had to pay for help.  It really utterly sucked.  When I get stuck, which happens, I hate this feeling that I just don't know who I'm supposed to call to help me.  I have to handle my whole life on my own.  It's so challenging.  It really is.  

Tonight was another one of those school/town functions where I get to strut my stuff as the token City Chick Single Mom who moved upstate to do over her life...yes, tonight was the 35th annual Phoenicia Square Dance... Zman was my date, it was mommy and me time.  As usual, I showed up, just him and me for the whole town to see.  Dads a plenty in their western shirts and wedding rings, staying clear..... that Ms. French and Ms. Howe looking down their noses at me... I sat in the corner, alone as I always do... sipping $.50 cups of lemonade in styrofoam cups watching the social scene of Phoenicia unfold in front of me.  In the four years I've lived up here, I've learned their faces, many of their names, had playdates, saw them at the 'anonymous' meetings and certainly have gotten to chat with them over the years on field trips and at birthday parties.  I've found my way in to this community..... the single mom from the city and her little dark funkified child.

Over the years, the dread has waned and I've grown a little more comfortable each time I go to school to participate in these functions.  I've certainly made some friendly connections among the fellow parents, but I just don't fit in.  I could blame myself for not really getting involved enough, but there's something very 'mean girls' about the PTA that always triggers great aversion for me.

But something this night was different from all the other school function nights.  Leading up to the big square dance ... my son was so enthusiastic that we were going to this event.  He bought bandannas for us in the little school store, his was blue, mine was bright pink and he was proud to have picked one so girlie just for me.  We took our time putting our outfits together and even I got a little excited.  I did manage to get my little cowpoke to be my dance partner, and we had fun square dancing together, in fact we had a blast.  I let him be him, running around with his friends, getting lost and being a kid having fun.  There was a moment while I swung on the swing set watching him interact with his classmates in the playground under the dusk filled sky, the crescent moon over the mountains and the stars just beginning to emerge.  I wanted to leave and get the eff out of there, but I decided to just put him first and let him play while I observed.  Him and his friends ran amok making up new games and hunting each other down in various forms of tag and hide and seek.  At one point, he called out to me in a loud whisper, "I love you mommy," from a hiding spot.  I smiled.

As parents came and scooped up their kids, Zoren did something he rarely does anymore, he reached for my hand and stayed close as we walked out to leave.  He held My Hand for all his friends to see!  Pulling me close, my too cool child said, "I love you mommy, I had the best time because you let me be me.  I love that you let me be me, you're the best mommy.  Thanks for dancing with me, that was fun."

After thinking for a moment, I decided to agree.  Why not decide that tonight was fun, wasn't it?  I'm ok with getting used to being the token hipster city single mom.  There's some parts of the act I don't mind... the dads who talk to me about music, telling my wacky dating stories, all my comedic jokes ... it's not really that bad.  My friend's partner said to me tonight, "what, how is it that you're totally single?  I figured you had a stable of men, you're too fine to be alone.  I just don't believe that, you just need to walk out the door and you'll get someone."  Hah hah, if only that were true, but thank you for saying it anyway. 

Look at my life... the struggle, the complications and me, wacky nutty me.  No one could possibly want to step into all of this.  You don't just get me, you have to take on me and my kid, we're this package... it's no wonder I'm on my own... we're a tough world to walk into.  We're family, we're all the things family represents and becoming one of us must be an unfathomable idea for most guys I'm sure. 

Snuggling up with Zman at bedtime, he was so elated that we had so much fun that he declared that it's Mother's Day Weekend because of all the work I do.  He has decided that one day isn't enough, he wants me to know that I'm the best mommy so he's gonna make me breakfast tomorrow. He acknowledged how hard it is for me, and promised to do more chores around the house and stop being so messy. 

Two seconds later I sat down on droplets of Zman's pee on the the toilet seat.  Yuck.  He swears to me he'll lift the seat from now on as part of my Mother's Day present.  AWESOME!