I’m not even sure where to start with this post. I have felt so frustrated for the past couple weeks. Not like mad frustration but rather frustration that stems from both physical (not so much right now because I had a week off from work) and emotional exhaustion. A’s father left when I was about 23 weeks pregnant (March 2016), so I’ve been a single mummy for over a year. I suppose it’s a good thing that I’m just now coming to the following realization; Being a single mum is hard! I guess it’s not all that surprising that I’m just now realizing this. When A’s dad left I was too heartbroken to even think about how difficult being alone would be, not to say that the thought didn’t cross my mind I just didn’t spend much time pondering it. Then after she was born she was so new and sweet and cute that everyone around practically jumped at the chance to help me. Plus she was a fantastic newborn, she was happy. She slept well and was just all around a sweet little bundle. When she became mobile everyone around was excited to watch her explore her new found freedom. But now that she’s more confident in her crawling and cruising skills she’s hard to keep up with. That being said no one is near as eager to help me with her these days. My mom and sister watch her during the week days while I work but when I am home she is obviously solely my responsibility. Which is fine, it’s not their job, if anyone should feel obligated to help it should be her father but I’ll let sleeping dogs lie. Although, my family has agreed to watch her one night a week while I have an “alone shower” and I will admit that I have opted to take said shower on my hair-washing day (it takes longer) a couple of times.
There are many things that I wish I could do. I recently started doing yoga and loved it but as you can imagine it’s not easy to get your zen on when your hair is being pulled or you’re being used as a jungle gym and have to limit the poses you do so that you don’t end up smashing a wee one. I even tried mommy and me yoga poses to see if that would work, it was a disaster. So my goal of doing yoga everyday has gone to… Well you know. I’ll be glad if I can do it once every two weeks. The point is I don’t get much of a chance to do things for me, with just me and that has me frustrated. I hope I’m not coming across as whiny I just find it so irritating that the person who did the least amount of work to bring this beautiful child into the world couldn’t even have the decency to meet her.
I’m not a person that really enjoys time alone but there are things, like taking a shower, that I miss doing alone. I don’t mind sharing my bed and I usually am not too upset by sharing my food but there are times when I think, Hey wouldn’t it be nice to be able to write without a child crawling across me and biting my chin or I pine over a bath in which no rubber duckies or splashing is involved. Then the dreaded mom guilt kicks in and I think about how much time I spend away from her while I’m working; And let me tell ya I feel terrible about that. I have always dreamed of being a stay at home mum. And I really thought it might happen because A’s father and I had discussed it and agreed that it may be possible for me to stay home after I delivered her or just work part time but that clearly didn’t happen. I would love to stay home and teach my baby and watch her grow. Not to say that I don’t love my job but being a preschool teacher and a parent can be difficult. It’s hard knowing that all day long I’m watching other people’s children develop while mine is at home with Mimi. It tears me up, I can’t let myself think about it for too long or I’ll just start crying. Anyways you get the idea, being a single-working mum is hard.
End of rant. I don’t think that anybody reads this but if you do I apologize and I assure you that my next post will have a more positive ring to it.