We're all right

 The reason I post to this blog so infrequently is because it’s hard for me to finish posts. They get long. Really long. And by the time I’m wrapping up, I start to think I’m sounding too preachy or something. I table them. They sit. Then they become outdated. Anyway, tonight I’m resolving to write and post this within two hours. It’s Thursday at 9:06PM. Let’s see how I do…

Cue actual post…

“I don’t know how you do it.”

“You’re basically a single parent.”

These two phrases, in no particular order, are what I hear most often. There was a time when I used to hear how cute everyone thought my kids were. Not anymore. Now, before people notice if they’re cute, they just notice the numbers. And me. Alone.

I do a significant amount of parenting alone. Let’s say 90%. Ack, 90 sounds high. Let’s say 88%. It’s full-time for sure. And I work hard. And I don’t get paid…in actual dollars. I get paid in milk spills. And messy hugs. And just one more book, mom. Et cetera.

I get why people make comments. And I know these are meant as compliments to me and I do my best to be gracious.

(btw, it’s 9:13, and I’m doing pretty well so far).

I’d like to address these two phrases.

“I don’t know how you do it.”

Four children. Busy husband. School. Poop. Household minutiae. If I manage to make a treat to send in to preschool for Lucie’s birthday, or knit a hat for a friend’s newborn, or put up a blog post, I hear this from all sides. “I don’t know how you do it.”

I also don’t know how I do it. But I don’t know how lots of people do lots of things.

I don’t know how someone with four kids and half our income living in San Diego does it. I don’t know how parents of twins do it. I don’t know how parents of a child with chronic illness do it. But I believe that we are challenged in life and parenthood to stretch and bend. Mothering has bent me in half at times, but it hasn’t broken me. (I may update this last statement once Lucie hits adolescence in two years.)

This is me:

I’m not particularly organized.

I’m not at all decisive.

I’m an anxious person by nature.

I avoid conflict.

Sometimes I avoid my children.

Sometimes I eat my feelings.

I am not superwoman. I used to try to be. I worked for pay and I worked at home and I resented my spouse’s schedule and resented our nanny, and was short with my children and ate poorly and slept very little and drank soooooo much coffee. I was unhappy.

These days, there are two things contributing to “how I do it.” The first is in the choice. I choose to stay home with the four children I chose to have. I’m not a slave to my life.

Second, I am not alone. My social network is broad and bountiful. And bicoastal. I have a number of caring acquaintances, and a few very close friends. I have an amazing family full of awesome woman whom I look up to. I make a lot of phone calls to those important people. [Aside: I believe the phone call has become an underappreciated art, the way letter writing became decades ago. I’m happy to text with my babysitter or a quick question about directions, but if I wanna talk, you’re gonna get a phone call. And people also seem so receptive. I think the world is probably lonely for more phone calls. ]

And I’m married for goodness sake! Not only am I not alone, but I have a life partner with whom I chose to have children. Phil is busy. Really busy. But he’s my man. He is with me. Sometimes things are against me. The kids, our internet speed, dinner. He always has my back.

(FYI it’s now 9:47 and I’m losing confidence…)

And there’s that pesky second phrase.

“You’re basically a single parent.”

No.

Nope.

No I’m not.

My single parent friends are probably confused and insulted that anyone would think I’m a single parent. Even if I don’t see Phil for a week, I’m not a single parent. Even if he deploys for a year, I’m still not a single parent. As long as we are married, I’m not a single parent. I do most of the child- and home-related labor, because that is my current role in our marriage. There was a time when I worked outside of the home and Phil was a more active parent. That time may come again. For now, I do most of it.

Why? Because Phil is rather busy doing his job. He is providing for us, and offering himself up to his patients and colleagues in a demanding and often thankless role. His job is hard. We miss him and he misses us. Sometimes he doesn’t see the kids for several days. When he's home he's usually eating or sleeping or showering. It's basically like a YMCA and he's the only patron, God bless him. 

I don’t know how he does it.

(Okay it’s 10:16, and I gotta wrap it up and do a read-through for clarity, preachiness…And now it’s 10:28 because I got a snack and watched a little Hulu)

Even if we can’t see each other or talk about something, he’s still my husband. Even if I find myself agonizing over a decision and realize that I’ll need to act before I can seek his advice, that’s not the same as knowing that the buck stops with me, and I have no backup. Even if my decision wouldn’t have been his decision, he will support me. I am not the only parent. I know that every kiss and hug and punishment and encouragement that I dole out has two people standing behind it.

I am not a single parent. 

I don't know how they do it.

There you have it. 

It’s 10:52 (I made it!) and I hope you made it, too! I have to pump and take out my contacts and go snuggle with my little man Lolo, since as it happens, his dad’s working overnight tonight.

All our love from the sunny side of the country.