I’m done with the kids birthday season… and I’m so damn exhausted. It’s not that it’s hard, but I just hate doing all this alone. I’m tired of being a single parent during or outside the marriage, with a supposedly partner who doesn’t contribute. Ohhh yes he pays for it, but that’s it. He comes as a guest (high)… invited, asking for timings and directions and what gift to get them.
You don’t have to be married or living in the same house to co-parent, but unfortunately I have been a single parent either ways.
I’m tired of being the teacher and the driver and the nanny and the cook and the entertainer and the hugger and kisser and the referee and the dog walker. I’m tired of feeding and changing and bathing and putting them to sleep. I’m tired of choosing and reading stories and taking to trainings and arranging play dates. I’m tired of being the only one who picks up and drops off and takes them doctor appointments and attend school events, where nothing goes as smoothly with either kid as they are supposed to go, specially with different paces, different ages and different interest.
By the end of each day, my voice becomes weary of saying no and not now and hurry up and brush your hair and your teeth and lets go and finish up, it’s bed time and shower time and food time… and i’m just burnt out… I need mummy time and lots of it!
I’m the one who has to, for the coming, I don’t know how many years, wake up everyday at 6 am, help pick out clothes, which is nothing but a nightmare by itself. I’m the one who has to make sure the school bag is ready, pack lunchboxes, which of course barely gets eaten anyways and walk to the bus. I know that I should prepare this the night before, but after helping with finishing homework and dinner and showers and snuggling for sleep, I’m done!
And it keeps repeating itself everyday… I have to do the exact same shit every fucking day and it is not changing; non of this is going to change anytime soon!
Vacations are the worst; I become the entertainer who has to keep their schedule full so I don’t go insane.
Above all, I have to do it calmly, with a soothing and loving voice and a smile, because, of course, I don’t want to fuck up their psychology and have two mirrors of my angry self in front of me… and that by itself is another burden all together…
The fucked up part is, I feel guilty if I don’t do all that, even if I’m too sick or tired to get out of bed, even if I have work to deliver. I feel like I am failing and that they are not getting what they are supposed to. I feel guilty whenever I decide to do something for myself. I feel guilty for even thinking of applying for a full time job. What would they do without me, who will they be staying with, what will they learn, who will they become? I am all they have; I am the definition of love and care for them… I am how they will be. If I don’t do it, no one will. They will be fed junk, never go to training and probably be late to school everyday.
The only upside to this is seeing them grow into amazing beings and every once in a while hearing them say “thank you mummy” for doing this for us, or “i love you mummy for being there always”… but i’m just worn out!
I feel like I’m stuck on a scary shitty rollercoaster ride that just wouldn’t stop… it just keeps going round and round… and I just want to get off before my life ends, but for some reason or for many I just don’t have the guts to jump off and let go.
Now, these days, I have to take a decision of whether or not to remove out my daughter’s tonsils, while doing her adenoids operation, where the doctor told me it is up to me… I hate these decisions… I hate being solely responsible to that extent… and all he is pissed off about is the timing of the operation. He has no fucking idea who their doctor is or what to do when they get a fever or what they are allergic too. He has no idea where or who is the vet for our 11 year old dog. He once told me that it is not his responsibility to know as long as I do.
Why cant I be the one who goes to work and sees them for a few hours a week and be the one who buys candy and ice-cream and not give a damn if they’re well fed or groomed or dressed, because it’s only for a few hours anyways, so it wont make a difference… Why cant I be the one who shows off in front of people of how wonderful and entertaining and caring of a parent I am … but in reality, do close to nothing!
It wasn’t my big time aim in life to be a mother, I never imagined that I would and I definitely didn’t imagine myself doing it alone… had I for one second known it was I was, I would never have had them… And who on earth said mothers are born to do this? Who said that because I have a uterus, we are innately made to do all that, to take all these decisions and perform all these mindless chores and carry all this burden?
For the past 7 years, I think I lost my essence as a women and as a person and starting to loose my soul in theirs.
And you know what, I’m pissed at him… that he was never and never will be the person that helped stop my roller coaster, but instead just helped keep it going. I’m pissed that he was never supportive enough to be by my side like I was with him. Why couldn’t he be a person that helped take some of these decisions off my shoulders and helped make my life easier. Why cant he just help out and co-parent.