Hard habit to break.

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Hard habit to break.

I absolutely have no time to write this post. I am actively avoiding doing what can only be described as a mountain of school work, but I’m distracted and hoping if I attend to the distraction I can then focus on the relationship between the social movements of indigenous women and the Christian Right.
Recently I have been consumed with the idea of “alone”. I’ve been a single mom for almost three years now, pushing from day to day with periodic (and much appreciated) help from friends, family and paid babysitters. I’m fortunate to have the resources I do. Very fortunate. Which is part of the reason I feel like I should be really able to be a single mom “alone”. I have great girls. Really great girls. They are smart and intuitive and frequently independent. Their needs are not extraordinary. Mainly they need love, attention and the occasional advice about clothing options. The issues we have are basically like any other family of four: you can’t eat half-baked doughnuts, dogs will roll in something that smells like death and when he gets out of the bathtub he will panic and break the toilet seat, when using surgical gloves filled with water as fake boobs be prepared that they may break, feeding the cats four days worth of food in one day results in cat vomit, if you forget your gymnastics outfit you may have to wear something too big or too small that was purchased at goodwill, you can’t do four hours of reading in thirty minutes, you’re never going to get ahead of the acorns falling off the tree, things do not put themselves away or clean themselves up, you know the noise you are making annoys your sister and she will push your face to make you stop, leftover hair dye expands in the bottle and will erupt into a gooey mess out of the trash can and onto the bathroom floor, if you put mail in various places bills will remain unpaid, shoes go in the shoe bin-not under the coach- the dog will find and destroy them, This all happened, last week.
Mostly, all of this is manageable. Mainly because between cat vomit and screaming arguments about salmonella their are moments of intense compassion. I am thankful everyday that I frequently use humor to cope and my daughters do too. There’s much to be thankful for, I can readily acknowledge that. So many families in so many places struggle with much tougher issues, poverty, lack of safety, domestic violence. My struggles are small in comparison, which is another reason I think I should be able to do this.
However, precisely because we do not worry about our safety, or food I get to focus on the emptiness of “alone”. I wish I had Someone to reflect with at the end of the day, To commiserate with, to laugh with, to cry with. I’ve heard that single parents and their kids are very close. We are, my fourteen year old is often my sounding board. She shouldn’t be, but she is sometimes. Because a lot of days there is no one else, and it’s like a volcano. I can tell her or I can curse in traffic ( most of the time I do both).
The reality is dating is hard when you are a grown-up with a job, school and three kids. There’s barely time to focus on me let alone to focus on nurturing a relationship with someone outside of the household. And I’ve pushed people away, people who could have helped, but it feels so complicated, and why can’t i do it alone? I’ve got money and great kids. I should be able to do this alone.
And yet…

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