Hurt or help

It is as if people pre-destin me when they find out that I’m a single a parent. I must be lonely, unhappy, poor, struggling, unmotivated….. They look at me like I’ve been a victim to something. They literally act shocked if I tell them that I own a house, or that I partner in running a successful business. A parent at my daughter’s school actually asked me how I afforded her birthday party. What?!
People ask me why someone like me would be single…they ask like it is the plague or something.

Before iHeart, I didn’t know any other single parents. I was confused as to why I was happy and my life was working well for me, but everyone thought that it shouldn’t be. I was exhausted from feeling like I constantly had to prove to people that I wasn’t living with a crutch; that raising a child on my own isn’t a handicap that I fell victim to or that I received from acting carelessly.
The happiness and success in my life finally wasn’t weird. There is a whole world of you out there! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!

All I know is that I take the stigma personally and I relish in every chance to change people’s mind sets about what it means to be a single parent. iHeart is a huge testimony….

I stumbled across this great post on iHeart & feel sad. *I* don’t help what’s out there of the stigma. I should add a disclaimer with my whiny ranting blog posts that I do so only out of honesty for myself. This is more socially acceptable than talking to myself. Even in my despair or disappointment at times, it’s better than relying on someone else for what I can do on my own. Besides, that way there’s no one to have to share the glory of a victory.

Glittering

I love it when Liz goes etiquette on someone!

“Just leave it there, girls, ” she hisses without taking her eyes off of me. Her eyes linger on me for a moment longer before she turns and continues down the aisle.

“EXCUSE ME,” I call out, in prime scene-making mode. I scurry to catch up with her. “Your girls DROPPED GARBAGE ALL OVER THE FLOOR. Don’t you think maybe you should encourage them to clean up after themselves?”

She ignores me, making a beeline towards the elevator.

In this case it’s not really etiquette but just not being disgusting and throwing hotdog on the floor for people to step in and smear ketchup under their carts.

This little nugget makes me feel better.  My kid may need post-grandma’s house boot camp but at least he has enough sense to be respectful of a stranger and would’ve probably looked like he was going to cry if someone yelled at him in public (not me of course).  Littering is pretty against his personal rules, except for at home where there’s some kind of force field that coats the floor so only sees carpet.

You know, here we are, we parent bloggers, all so painfully introspective. We discuss every nuance of parenting, wondering whether we praise our kids too much or breastfed too little. We debate the media children are exposed to, we bemoan the amount of time we give to our babies when there’s work to be done, we feel guilty for wanting a little of ourselves back. Meanwhile, there’s an entire subset of parents out there who haven’t even bothered to teach their kids page one of Rules We Live By In This World So that We Don’t Suck.

I often think back to the horribly frightening days of babyhood. It pales in comparison to how I feel most days now, it’s a weight on the shoulders when you’re reminded you’re not just taking care of a helpless thing but growing an adult who will blame everything on you.

I’ve been struggling with how to instill more gratefulness or something. I’ve got a few ideas but for now I can be reassured at least he’s doing okay as a productive member of society. The only yard he picks flowers from is mine.

* At 7 he still says glitter for litter, as in kitty glitter.  It’s the last of the baby words and I’m not giving it up.  I still say panpakes in the hopes he’ll humor me, alas he corrects me. *

“I’m bored.”

This really is one of the worst things you can tell your mother. I was nice and took the kid to the mall for a Radio Shack visit so he could peruse the electronics to add to his birthday list. We stuck it out at the mall until the rain stopped but life’s just not worth living if you can’t buy stuff. My poor child was just at a loss that he couldn’t have anything during our trip. So I forced him to sit and pout while I read the bonus chapter of Eclipse (woohoo I can’t wait for the 1st!!)

Usually the spoiled rottenness gets to me when he comes home from grandma’s but it’s kind of a relief to send him back and let her have at it this week. I can’t spend on doing stuff anyway so at least he’ll have fun for a while longer. Luckily there’s one night at home before he goes to my parents so he can get his bratty tantrums out of the way. We’ll probably need the whole weekend but one day will have to do.