First, let me tell you a little bit about myself outside of being a Mom. I recently turned the big 3-8. I grew up in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, an idyllic place to spend your childhood.
I have a younger brother who was born three years and one day after me. My parents were married, then divorced, then each remarried. I love my parents, stepparents, and step-siblings. My family always had dogs and once a cat.
In high school, I was an academic. The star running back of the football team was my high school sweetheart. I didn’t want for anything.
I went to college and got a bachelor’s degree in Business Management. I moved to Green Bay on my own, got a job, and got my MBA. Most of my career has been spent in manufacturing as a supervisor.
I recently took a monstrous leap into a new career. It was the right move; I love it. I’m passionate about this career, and it truly does not feel like work.
I live in a home that I always dreamed of living in that’s downtown and has vaulted ceilings and a unique look.
What are some of the things I worry about when it comes to life? Paying the bills. Being successful in my new career. Eating right and exercise. Do I get enough sleep? Are the dishes done? Where am I at with laundry?
The car needs an oil change and the tires need to be looked at. How are all four of my parents doing? Do I spend enough time with my brother and his family?
The house needs a good, solid cleaning. The sheets should be changed. I need to catch up with my friends.
Should I update my wardrobe? I have free time; what should I choose to do? A nap, read, TV, chores?
Did I mention that I’m a mom?
I have an 11-year-old son. He’s brilliant. He excels in reading and writing in school.
He is the most kindhearted person I’ve ever known. He’s about to pass me up in height. I worry about picking out the right clothing for him because I don’t want him to be teased.
He started a new school this year, and every day I’m asking how lunch and recess went, making sure he has happy and healthy friendships. Speaking of healthy – I want him to eat more healthy foods.
I always wonder if he can stand to get more sleep at night. My older son suffers from crippling anxiety at times. His dad and I want to make sure he is coping and thriving.
We are consistently complimented on what a good human being our son is. It always gets me choked up. He’s handsome, healthy, smart, and most of all, kind.
I have a 3-year-old son. He is hilarious. He’s feisty and strong-willed. He loves nursery rhymes and the Wizard of Oz. He celebrates Halloween 365 days a year.
He’s dramatic. He loves to play catch but loves, even more, to collapse dramatically into a heap after being tackled by an invisible force. He can complete every dance move alongside the Scarecrow and Tin-man when watching his favorite movie.
In his first year of life, he had colic and was sick all the time. He could set a distance record with his projectile vomiting. His dad and I spent a lot of time in clinics and hospitals without getting any concrete answers.
We love his pediatrician, and that was a good thing because we saw him weekly. Now that our son is 3, we are working on potty-training and weaning him off the pacifier.
My baby loves to pick the toppings off a supreme pizza and then only eat those toppings. He’s adorable, funny, happy, clever, and finally healthy.
After reading the above paragraphs, it probably seems like it’s a typical story of a mom and her triumphs and trials of raising two children in this crazy world…right?
Now, what if I told you that I’m a single mom who has never been married and my boys have different fathers?
I know there are stereotypes surrounding single motherhood. I have experienced the stigma in numerous ways on a variety of occasions.
But that’s not why I’m writing this.
I’m writing this to show that single moms aren’t less than because they are single moms. Some people choose this lifestyle; some don’t.
Both of my boys are the center of my world AND of their dads’ worlds. We all work; we all support our kids. We all want as much time with them as we can get. They each have a mom and a dad that love them.
My boys are happy and healthy and have everything they want and need. As a mom, I have the same worries about my children as other mothers. I have the same wants for my children as other mothers.
My boys and I are a family. We go to the park, we visit the U.P. and Wisconsin Dells, we get colds, we get the flu, we love to bowl and watch hockey games, we laugh, we cry. We aren’t that different just because we aren’t your typical nuclear family.
The comment I get the most as a single mom is, “I don’t know how you do it.” To that, I say: “I just do it.” My boys make it easy. They are my reason for being.
Again, I’m just a mom raising my boys with everything I’ve got.
Here’s another post you might enjoy: Representing Reality
