Being a single mother is difficult most of the time. Yes, there are many joyous wonderful moments. However, there are also the times when you’re too sick to cook, too sick to move, and even too sick to open your mouth. There are also the times when you just need to sit down and have a good cry. Raising three children on your own is no walk in the park.
The upside though, is that yes, I do get all of the joy, all of the fun, all of the cuddles, and soft sweet phrases of love flowing at me left, right and centre from my three lovely children.
However, there are days like today and yesterday where I would just like a little bit of help. Not much, not hours, not days of help. Just one day of help. However, I must tell you and forewarn you that usually a woman does not choose to become a single mother of three beautiful children. It doesn’t just happen, and it was not a choice that I wanted to make. In the end it became the only choice available. It was a journey I had to take in order to become free.
So, today I’m lying in bed not being able to talk or move due to a blocked nose, sore throat, and an entire aching body. Next to me stands my little 4 year old who continues to tap me on the shoulder with the hope of waking me up. Once she succeeds, she continues to remind me that she has already told me ten times that I was supposed to buy her the ‘banana up and go’ from the shops yesterday, and that I better get them today because I promised.
Unfortunately for and my children and I, I was bedridden yesterday, and could only do the bare minimum. Suddenly, the seven year old throws himself onto the bed and announces that I have to take him to the movies today because I promised. Than the 6 year old runs into the room and jumps on me to give me a gigantic hug. All I can think of is that I can’t think, I can’t speak and I need some help. Yet, there is no help! There is nobody. All but me, and a friend or two who may pop into the shops for me later if they’re around. Where is their father you may ask. At work, too busy, unavailable. Its always the same old story,the usual and the reason why we single mothers choose to do this on our own.
So, I break the news to my son that we won’t be going to the movies. I inform my four year old that I can’t get the banana poppas right now, and I tell my children that I’m too sick to get out of bed and that they’ll have to sit in bed next to me and watch a dvd on the laptop. Now, not only do I feel sick, but I now feel like I have also disappointed them. One of the perils of single motherhood.
Two hours later I stumble out of bed, look into the yard, and discover that the dog has gone again. Broken the fence palings and skipped out. All week long, that naughty dog has been disappearing. Well, actually the last thirteen years with her have been a dysfunctional nightmare. So I chase her down the road, the cold wind on my face, breathless and panting into the neighbours back yard. Than I watch her weave her way between my legs and into my front yard, as I try to grab her before she escapes me and runs under the house. So, yes, thats right, there I stood outside, coughing uncontrollably in the cold, standing in the leftover snow from yesterday, hammer and nails in hand getting ready to fix the fence, wondering what that dog will get upto tomorrow.