My 16-month-old son, Isaac, watched me tear the hall closet apart last weekend. I got a bee in my bonnet about a missing game piece, and I will admit that I was verging on psychosis from lack of sleep. In that box I find a plastic sword, a game of Twister (note to self: possible seduction prop – keep handy. As in, “Hey, wanna come over for a cup of tea…and a game of Twister??”), and some juggling bean bags. No missing game piece. I pulled out the bean bags, my consolation prize.
I find myself compelled to juggle, despite my lack of skill at it. For the past week, I’ve pulled out those things every day and practiced. It’s no surprise to me that juggling resonates with me these days. I find myself continuously juggling the trifecta of single parenthood: my child’s needs; work demands; and my personal needs. Not a single one of them is truly optional, and yet not all of them can possibly be fulfilled at once. It’s the conundrum of single parenting, and I’m feeling it acutely these days.
Isaac’s needs…he needs me around a lot. Would he survive in daycare if I left him there 9-5 every day? Sure, lots of kids do. But I also know my son, and I’ve read the studies: children don’t do as well in life if they don’t have their mother as the central caregiver early in life. Plus, there’s a selfish part of me that wants to witness the milestones that drop unexpectedly into the center of long, boring days together. “Quality time” is a myth. There are conversations and interactions and revelations that simply require long stretches of time before they manifest. If all we have together is a couple hours in the mornings, and a couple more in the evenings, and then weekends, it’s not enough time for him with mama. And he needs more attention and interaction now than he’s going to need in a few years. In a few years, he’s going to want to go to friend’s homes and activities at church and school. He won’t need mom around twenty-four seven anymore. He’ll be going to school half days by kindergarten, full days by first grade. In four years, he’ll be starting kindergarten.
