Ramblings of a Single Mama

Last weekend my husband and his brother took a guy’s trip to spend time with my father-in-law who was recently widowed.  I have to admit I was sort of excited that he was leaving.  The house all to myself.  I can watch Pretty Little Liars without his “this show is so stupid” in my ear.  Yayyy

I guess I didn’t have the house all to myself though, I mean, obvi I had the Chiquita.  It’s not like I got rid of her for the weekend.  I was sort of excited to spend some quality time just me and my girl, but I have to be honest that I was also a bit nervous about it.

I’m very fortunate that my husband is very helpful with our daughter and around the house.  I often complain very dramatically, “Do I have to do everything around here???”  And while some days it does feel that way (who does the laundry, feeds the cats, packs the Chiquita’s diaper bag, etc.) I do know that I’m very lucky.  I do know that some men come home from work, sit their asses on the couch and don’t do shit all night expecting their wives to serve them dinner on a silver platter.

I’ll tell you one thing.  That shit ain’t happening in my house.  While I do take care of my husband in some ways (I always have his clean clothes folded neatly on the bed) I certainly expect that he helps me around the house and with the baby, as I work full time, too, and am also tired after a long day at the office.

So hubs leaves Friday afternoon.  I pick up the Chiquita after work, and I make plans with my bonus daughters to come over for pizza and girl talk.  After the girls leave I decide to stay up late on the couch watching TV. I never do this.  I always go to bed early and in my bed.  I ended up falling asleep on the couch and waking up at 2 am freezing, a cat’s ass in my face and a serious kink in my neck.

The Chiquita is up at 6 am, which like never happens.  Seriously?  I make her lay in bed until 7 because there is no way I’m getting up at work time on a Saturday.  Sorry girl!  I could hear her talking to herself in her crib so I laid in bed for another hour, fighting a pounding headache and a runny nose.

Not sure if I was hung over or if I was fighting a cold, but I get girlfriend up at 7.  I give her a bottle and jump in shower hoping that she’ll sit on the couch and watch TV quietly.  No such luck, she’s in the bathroom on top of me for the entire time I’m trying to get ready – Bad Mom post on that coming later.

My mom shows up at 9:50 am. We had planned to go the mall, and I wanted to get there nice and early so we could get a coffee, get a good parking spot and tire out the Chiquita so she’d take a nice long afternoon nap.  When my mom showed up I felt terrible because I wasn’t ready.  For one I had the Chiquita up my ass since 7 am and for two I hadn’t had my iced coffee yet so I was moving in turtle time.

We finally get to the mall and the Easter bunny is there.  I’ve always hated the Easter bunny.  I don’t know why, I just have.  He’s like a wannabe Santa Claus or something, and as a kid I was just like, the Easter bunny is soooo gayyy. I also hated looking for eggs.  I thought it was the dumbest thing ever.  My mom’s all excited, “We have to get Eva’s picture taken with the Easter bunny!”

I say, “Mom, I just don’t feel that today is the day.  I mean, look at us.  I look like a mess, Eva looks like a mess.  We’re just not our best selves today.”

We finally get our coffee from Dunkin Donuts (yes, there’s one in the mall!), and I start sipping that sucker down like it’s a vodka/soda on a [childless] Saturday night.

“You have to get over this perfection thing,” my mom says. “Who cares if Eva isn’t her normal cute self?  This is what she looks like today, that’s what matters.  You’ll look back on the picture some day and remember what that day was.”

I know she is right so I agree to the picture.  Of course there’s noooo line. This is probably the only time EVER in the history of Jlee’s Blog that I’ve hoped for just a small line to have a second to regroup.  We walk up, and I am like so flustered because I have to pick my picture package, fix Chiquita’s hair, I’m trying to drink my coffee, my purse is falling off my shoulder….I’m totally a mess right now, and my mom is grabbing the stroller as I’m dancing around the bunny’s lair like an idiot.

“Move your hand, mom!” They tell me, while we’re trying to get girlfriend to smile, and she just was not having it.  Then the tears came.  I would have let her sit there crying and had them snap a picture, but my mom is like, “You better go get her!” [with a like-duhhhh tone]

Geez…she’s not going to die!

I reluctantly go grab her and as we’re reviewing the pictures I’m bummed she’s not looking [at the camera] in any of them.  I don’t want to pay $20 for a picture of the side of her head.  They say I can throw her back on the bunny’s lap.  But as we’re approaching the bunny she was like, Oh hell no.  So, enjoy this picture of me, Chiquita and the Easter bunny:

Chiquita looks less than thrilled

The next day we had brunch with my dad, my stepmom and my siblings for my stepmom’s birthday, and of course I wait until the last minute to get my stepmom a birthday gift.  Chiquita is again up at 6 am, wtf, she usually sleeps until 7:30 on weekends!, and I again shower and get ready for the day with her up my ass and no coffee.

I’m about to DIE.  We get to Dunkin Donuts at 9:50 am so I order an iced coffee, and I give in and buy a munchkin for the Chiquita.  I hand it over to her and she f’ing drops it on the floor.

“What are you doing?” I yell.

She looks at me like she’s completely devastated, but I can also tell she’s sort of blaming me, which I’m like, sorry sister, you’re the one with the slippery fingers.

I’m aggravated now telling her, “We gotta get to Walmart, and all I want to do is drink my iced coffee, but now I gotta pull over to pick up your damn donut!”  Yes, I said damn.  I told you, I need coffee in the morning.

She’s mumbling back at me, probably telling me to STFU and pick up her GD donut.  Yeah, she’s a piece of work.  We pull over at the gas station, and I’m getting eyed by a brother in an old school maroon Cadillac.  I laugh to myself thinking doesn’t he see that I’m the frazzled “single” mom here??? I’m just not appreciating it right now even though normally I don’t care if it’s an 80 year old with a cane; I’m still like suh-weet, someone thinks I’m HOT! 😀

So we [finally] make it to Walmart, and I just hate this place.  Hell for me would be being sent to Walmart during rush hour because that place is a friggin’ panic attack waiting to happen.  I’ve almost rammed people with my shopping cart in that place B.C. [before Chiquita], and I actually stopped shopping there for many years.  But, my stepmom loves Walmart so I figure at the very least I can pick up a gift card and she’ll be really happy.

I finally settle on a gift – and some nail polish for me – and we head out of the store.  This is a rare instance when I’m actually going to be on time for something.  I’m getting my bags and Chiquita out of the cart (this was a bad decision because I nearly dropped Chiquita, my coffee, and the present trying to get to the car). Part of her present I wrapped in the car (a candle) and the other part (a big picture) she got in the Walmart shopping bag. Classy.

As we’re walking out of the store a man is waving at us, and I look at him like wtf are you looking at but say to Chiquita, “Wave to the man.”

Side note, am I supposed to do that or should I be teaching her stranger-danger??  The man waves back and must see that I’m eyeing him because he says, “It’s OK, I know your daughter.”

What?!?  How does the Chiquita even know people at Walmart? She’s 1!

I text my mom and say, “Do u know some Indian dude who works at Walmart, cuz he says he knows Eva.”

My mom responds, “What?  No.”

We are the first to arrive at Baker’s Square for my stepmom’s b-day brunch, and did you know that BS serves booze?  I totes didn’t, but when I found out I ordered a mimosa.

Side note, I know it sounds like I’m an alcoholic, but I’m really not.  I just use alcohol as a coping mechanism for managing my stress.  And don’t feel you need to comment on it because that’s what I pay my counselor for, but thank you for your concern.

Brunch is wonderful and we head home around 2 pm, both of us taking 3 hour naps.  We both took 3 hours naps the day before as well.

Hubs usually drops the Chiquita off with my stepmom on Monday morning.  My stepmom lives a little further than my mom so I was worried about getting us both out the door and getting myself to work on time.  I was 8 minutes late, but I made it in one piece and in a decent mood actually sort of excited to be at work.  It’s like I do less work at work.

Hubs was supposed to be heading home Monday afternoon, and I’m getting the feeling he’s up in the air on leaving his dad.  I’m definitely supportive of him spending time with his dad and his bro, but I was sick with a cold, PMSing – or PMDDing really – and was just about at my wit’s end over this whole single mom business.  Truth be told I was exhausted.  And I needed him.  And I missed him, though I didn’t realize it at the time.

At the time I was ready to have a breakdown.  I didn’t think I could handle another night of being a single mom.  I know I only have one kid.  I know several of my friend’s husbands often travel for a week at a time.  I have friends who are single moms.  I don’t know what to say.  At the end I was ashamed that I was about to have a breakdown over this.  I know other people have it so much harder.  I knew I needed to be strong, but I was feeling like I couldn’t do it.

I finally put on my BGP – have I ever mentioned BGP in my blog before?  It’s a phrase my friends and I say to each other when life gets tough.  BGP = Big Girl Pants.  (For instance, my friend texted me that she had anxiety about going to a new yoga class.  I responded, “You can do it, BGP.”)

I finally put on BGP and made it through the night just fine.  I proved to myself that I could survive my weekend as a single mama.  Yayyy

Major props to all you single peeps out there, whether it’s being a single mom/dad or having a traveling hubby.  It sure is tough, so remember BGP, pat yourself on the back and have a glass of wine (or two) to survive manage the stress. 😀

P.S. While I write this I’m eating lunch made for me by my wonderful hubby! I had to put that in because if he reads this he’ll say I make him look like an ass who doesn’t do anything around the house. Haha

More pics of weekend fun:

Chiquita riding the train at the mall
Hamming it up at brunch at Bakers Square

2 thoughts on “Ramblings of a Single Mama

  1. Chiquita is a doll. I know what you mean about husbands going away. It’s stressful because it breaks the routine. And like you, I’m waiting to get a comment about my excessive mentions of alcohol. Hey, I even have a margarita banner! So far, so good. If I get one that’s really bad, I figure that’s what comment moderation is for, haha. And then that would be my next blog post!

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