Single. Mom.

I'm a Single Mom. 

Single? Well no, I'm divorced. I was not single when I became their Mom. (It just felt like it).
Single? Well, yes I'm the only Mom in our home.
Single? As in available, unattached, looking for a partner? Well, I guess so. I've been so busy raising my sons and trying to be both Mom and Dad, I've ignored that part of me. 

Until...
Someone flirted with me Saturday! Actual full-blown, flirt: eye contact, conversation... No sloppy come-on, no indecent proposition, just a little bit of light, innocent flirting. The kind that boosts the ego and makes you smile.

But it's been so long since anyone flirted with me, I missed it at first.

I mean, completely over my head, smile politely and move on. Then it hit me. He's cute, He's well-spoken, and He's flirting... with me. So, for a minute, I flirted back. Smile. Chat. Smile. Move on.

Now with my luck, he's probably just out on a prison-release program or attempting to film some sort of "punk'd" video. I'll never know, but I do wish him well, and I thank him for the experience.

As a Single Mom, my life revolves around my sons, my work, church and community events. It's been so long since I've been to a party, bar, or club that I can't remember it. Since my marriage ended, I've met some nice men, dated a couple of them, and I've met some not so nice.

But for the last (almost) 2 years, I've taken a sabbatical from the dating scene. It's not that I'm out of the game, but I've been warming the bench.

It's not that I'm content being alone. To be perfectly honest, I'm lonely. I'd really like to find a nice gentleman to date. In fact, it's part of my prayer life. But I'm not desperate, either. And I'm not praying "for a man"... I could find one of those anywhere. I'm holding out for the real thing.

I know the real thing exists, I see friends living it every day. Not that fairy-tale garbage (Disney lied) but real life give-and-take. It's not easy, but they work at it. But where is he? I've come to the conclusion that if God wants me to meet Mr. Right... he's gonna put him right down in front of me, no questions asked. (Yes, I'm prepared this may take a while).

Enter: February 14th.

It's on everyone's mind. Friends are blogging about it, red hearts festoon store aisles, and dinner reservations are being made.

Here's the thing about Valentine's Day:

I hate the commercialization of love. I always have. For years I've said, "it's nothing but a retail trap" -- stand in line 2 hours for a mediocre dinner in a jam-packed restaurant, and that's how a person celebrates love? I don't think so. Buy jewelry because that Jeweler-with-the-alphabet-letter-name says: "Every Kiss begins with K" -- great, prostitutionalize love. Kisses shouldn't come about because someone hands me jewelry.  (Side note: I do like jewelry... but if it's the Right Man, he'll be kissed for many reasons, not just jewelry).

Single Awareness Day? You gotta be kidding me! I need a day to celebrate this? To be aware I'm single? Folks, I know every day... I'm alone. Thanks, but no thanks. Take the drama elsewhere.

My Valentine's evening will be spent working. That morning, I will have celebrated with my children as we get ready for school. But my sons know I love them. Every. Single. Day.

To those with a Valentine this year, I sure wish you happiness. Truly I do! Enjoy, have fun, party on. But keep this in mind: Love should be celebrated every day. Big ways, little ways, and all ways.

To those without a Valentine this year ... Well, there's no delicate way to put this: The day is depressing. But remember, it's just a day. Turn off the tv, go volunteer somewhere, read a book, take a nap. And don't forget this: You are loved, by Someone who gave His life for you. No greater love exists. Find your confidence in that Love.

As for me, I'm still working on the term, "Single Mom" ... No clue where this path will lead me. But as I face the (sometimes) overwhelming and very rewarding challenge of being my sons' only parent, I have to remember: my existence can not be summed up in a single title.

And my Valentine Resolution? Not to get so lost in my role as parent that I forget to celebrate being a Woman. Single. Fabulous. Worthy. Loved.

A Declaration of Independence

A few days ago, I made the following post on Facebook. Yes, it's a testimony, but it's more than that, for it's also my declaration. Life is different. Life is good.
Change.
Hope.
Thanksgiving.
Peace.

"There is no way we can be all things to all people. There is no way we can make everyone happy. There is no way we can do all things on our own. 

Being a Survivor nearly killed me... took me to a deep, dark place inside where my only champion, my only hope, was Me. Failure was not an option. I fell further away from God, and deeper into myself. My vision was clouded by despair and hopelessness, hurts, stress, exhaustion, and loneliness. And where did that lead me? No where good. I set myself up for failure. I am imperfect, like every soul on earth.

But this summer, my life took an amazing, miraculous route. At a time when I felt I had hit rock bottom, when I fell on my knees, when I took off my Survivor charm, when I truly understood: "I Cannot Do This On My Own.... I Give It All to God" then Love and Peace took over!

My life changed. My job changed. My focus changed. More time for my children and I. More prayer and meditation. A life truly focused on God and His word and His ways. I said, "Lead me, Help me."

It's been an amazing ride these last 7 months. He has taken me places and changed things inside of me. I am actually stronger and more at peace from letting go of the negatives that held me down. I am healing, getting stronger, focusing on what really matters. That doesn't mean it's "easier" but I do have peace.

I'm not sure where exactly He's leading me, but I now know, I'm really not alone. Those negatives and past hurts that haunted me are gone. I know He will be with me. And I know he's put some amazing people in my life to help me (as I pray I can help them) when life's trials weigh me down.
Thanks for letting me get this off my chest. I know this isn't the popular type of facebook posts where folks spout off about politics or drama. But it was heavy on my mind today. I just wanted to say "Thanks for loving me, Thanks for loving my children, and Thanks for being with us on this journey." 

 

 

Big Brother

Growing up, I longed for an older brother. In my dreams he would've been a protector and advisor. He'd have taken some of the burden off me (I'm the oldest child in my family), he'd have guided me through awkward social situations, helped me study, and eased some of life's challenges. Obviously, my dream could never be a reality.

Many decades later, I'm raising two sons. In the natural order of things, it would be safe to assume my 16 year old plays the role of Big Brother to my 13 year old.

But never assume anything, especially when considering a special needs family. My 16 year old is diagnosed autistic: a compilation of Asperger's Syndrome, Sensory Integration Disorder, ADHD, reading comprehension issues, and sparkling brilliance. He is a delight, but he has not been able to take on the traditional authoritative role reserved for a family's oldest child.

Instead, the role of Big Brother has fallen on my youngest son. He is the organized one, the Communicator, Mentor, and Coach. When I'm at work, he makes sure things are ok at home: dinner's in the microwave, chores are checked off each boys' list, alarm is on, showers taken. When my oldest misses social cues, his younger brother clues him; When my oldest "isn't sure" what someone said, my youngest chimes in; when my oldest leaves things scattered or needs an activity break, my youngest reminds him to be focused. It does not always work smoothly. There have been times when my eldest son says, "Why does he act like the big brother? I'm older." And times when my youngest is simply tired of shouldering the burden. (He has his own sensory issues, including Auditory Processing Disorder. Sometimes, one more noise, sound, or word is too much to tolerate).

So, it's not easy. Sometimes there is chaos and impatience. But it's not "bad" either. There is love and commitment. There are priceless bits of character development. Siblings of special children are often more compassionate, tolerant people.They are warriors and defenders, they develop thick skin, and excellent coping skills. They often champion life's underdogs, and they learn early that Disney lied: it's not all happily-ever-after, but it can be good.

However, our little family's dynamics were recently altered, rather quickly. My youngest has had reconstructive surgery of his right rib cage. For several months, he can not pull, push, or lift ANYthing. He must be careful not to fall, or to get jostled in a crowd. And he fatigues easily. As he recovers, he must fully rely on his older brother to cook dinner in the microwave, to carry clothes for him, to open the door for him, to carry his toys. Physical limitations are not easy for an independent 13 year old to accept. But in this mix of healing energy and angst, I also sense: Relief. From both of my sons.

For my youngest, some of the burden has been reduced. And my oldest now gets to take on the role of Big Brother. He must put down his coins and geckos and focus on the task at hand. He must protect, nurture, and care for his brother. It's time to take the next steps in maturity, to become the caretaker of himself and someone weaker than him. His egocentric universe is going to be under attack, and he may rebel a bit, but he will become a better person, and brother, in the process.

The next few months promise to be ones of healing and rest, they will also be ones of challenges and trade-offs. Possibilities abound and Hope carries us forward.

It's a Dude Thing

I wish I knew how to be a man. Seriously.

No, I'm not thinking about a sex change operation or making an announcement about my gender. I like being a woman. It's how God made me, and after all these decades, seems to be working for me, last time I checked.

But I'm raising two teenage boys on my own. Their father isn't around and their Grandfather (my father) is deceased. While I might wish to meet a nice man, I'm in no hurry, and have no desire to date just anyone to have a man around the house.  

So where does that leave us? 

Oh yeah, I'm trying to learn to think like a man...

God gave me these boys to raise and he knew what I'd be up against, so He graciously gave the boys great role models in teachers, friends-of-the-family, and via activities. But there's no significant male influence in our home. So it's up to me.

I can teach them manners (so far neither one scratches themselves in public very often) and I can teach them morals, praying they're listening. But the dude stuff? 

About a year ago I realized, I had to get with the program!  

So, we tackle dude-type projects together. Google has become my friend. I research inexpensive do-it-yourself projects and we take them on. The boys have learned about weeding and have done some landscaping and gardening. This spring we plastered and painted the kitchen, and made a backsplash behind the kitchen sink. We work as a family and we work hard. Our results might not be up to Bob Villa's standards, but they're ok!

But what about the rest of the dude-stuff? How to court a woman, how to be a gentleman, how to be a Dad? Well, I just tell them how I think a Man should act, how he should treat a lady, how to be respectful. And they've learned in their own way about how to be a real Dad. Antiquated or not, they open doors for women, they let ladies go first, and while they're a little young for dating I've already said "Well, if you were the parent of a teenage daughter, how would you want a boy to treat HER?" 

I strive to raise up two righteous Christian young men who will go out and be successful in this life -- however that success is defined.

But the other day, a commercial came on tv depicting two men standing at a water cooler. One man started discussing sports, and the other mentioned yoga... Yoga dude ends up with water being thrown in his face. On some levels, I think the commercial is tacky. But, it's as if water was thrown on my face, too, because I realized...  I have to teach a sport to my boys. I don't want them left out at the water cooler when they grow up!

I think my youngest son will be ok, he's sociable and is a great conversationalist. 

But did I mention my oldest is very high functioning autistic? He has Asperger's Syndrome and has to be taught social skills. He's still coming to terms with the fact not every person will want to hear about his latest coin acquisition or his geckos, and he is slowly accepting the notion of making small talk with friends.

So I sat down with the boys and told them, "You have to pick a sport and come to understand it so when you grow up, and other guys at work start talking sports, you can talk about it too and fit in. It's a dude thing." His response was basically, "Mom, I know I'm a guy. I don't have to like sports." I don't know if I was right or wrong, and I don't know what a man would do but I said, "I don't care if it's your favorite thing, but it's something you need to know. It's a man thing."

So now we're going to pay attention to football and hockey a little more than we already do, and I'm going to pray about other male-bonding things I have to teach the boys. 

Because of me, and all the Aunties in their lives, they'll probably be the most polite men around the water cooler, but hopefully, they'll fit in and understand how to act like a dude in a man's world.

How Do I Look?

When you hear the word "Single Mom" what image comes to mind? C'mon, confess: an image came to mind.Was the woman young or old? White, black, hispanic? Was she dressed conservatively or immodest? Did you picture a hoard of children or perhaps just one or two?

How about we change the negative stereotyping of Single Moms? Many of us work, more than one job, to provide for our children. We pray, we tithe, we volunteer in our community. We are the sole decision makers for our family and often the sole financial resource for our families. We are law-abiding persons striving to raise beautiful children.

Yet, we endure condescending comments like "I know what you go through, my husband travels a lot." Really? That makes you understand the demands of a single parent? Boy, you're not seeing the real picture!

Single Moms are patronized and demeaned. We lay awake worrying about paying for doctor's visits, band fees, babysitters. We are tired. We wait on an antiquated child support enforcement system to help us meet our children's needs. We put our social lives on hold, and we lift up our children! We are seen as weak, undeducated, and somehow "less" because circumstances have led us to this place in life. The sermons we hear in church are often (wonderful yet) geared to the two-parent family. We feel embarrassed about our divorce or our choices in life so we feel as if we are less. We don't need you to help us feel any less or to see us as any less.

We are tired. We are working hard and doing the best we can. We put ourselves last. We are broken. But we are striving and we seek peace!

Instead of pitying us, instead of saying "Glad it's not me" ... How about stepping up and pitching in. Offer a night of babysitting for free, fix a meal, mow the lawn. Put your faith into action!

And instead of patronizing us, put us on your prayer list. Make us your daily prayer... so that we may fully come to find peace in God, that we come to understand we are never alone, that we feel rejuvenated in spirit and strong enough to fight off the world's negative messages. Prayer changes, Prayer empowers, Prayer helps. (Thank God, it has changed me!) ... And prayer will also help you see us as we truly are.