Do you know what most annoys me about being a single parent to three toddlers? There's no one around to appreciate my virtues, like patience, creativity, and trouble-shooting skills. Take this weekend for example. In one day, just one of my sons went through a bottle of window cleaner, painted my sheets with toothpaste, painted my walls with liquid eyeliner, painted himself with flour, smeared lotion all over the television and dvd player, climbed the cabinet and emptied a large container of seasoning, locked himself in the rec room, destroyed a homework assignment, and cut a hole in his covers. That's just one child! There are two others! I have three words for you: Divide And Conquer!
Do you know what I love best about being a single parent to three toddlers? There's no one around who could ever replace me. Not that I could be replaced anyway. I mean, come on, all this and good looks too! Still, it's nice to know that I'm going to have these wonderful moments that no one else gets to have, like butterfly kisses, cuddles during rainstorms, flowers picked from the yard (mostly dandelions), and those wonderful coloring book pictures with purple suns and orange clouds.
Single parenthood is a humbling experience. You have to learn to swallow a lot of pride so you can provide your children with what they need. You have to mature beyond your years because there's not the experience of two parents for your children to learn from. You have to learn the difference between luxury and necessity. Most importantly, you have to learn how to count your blessings.
The last part is a lot harder than it seems. Sure, it's easy to spot if your child has ten fingers and ten toes. It's easy to tell if your child is healthy. The hard part is in realizing how much better this new person has made your life. Privacy go out the door? Yeah, maybe so. But now, I have a cuddle companion during the sappy parts of a show. No longer have time for the girly stuff? Yup, I can say that. But I learned how to appreciate the beauty that I was born with. I learned how to be proud of what was on the inside. Strangely enough, people respond better to that than to my once perfectly manicured hands. Don't get to sleep in or lounge on the couch anymore? Yeah, there's some days I miss that. Then I realize that I'm back to prepregnancy weight, more toned than I was in high school, and more motivated and capable than I was, even as a manager of a store. I'm never bored. I always have something to do. I don't have time to brood over life's little hiccoughs. Better yet, the crooked little grin my son gives me when he proudly shows off the liquid eyeliner mural on the wall is better amusement than a rented movie starring Jim Carrey. Besides, I don't need make-up anyway. It's what is on the inside that counts, and the inside contains a lot of patience, creativity, and ability in problem solving. My babies are going to be better people for making me a better person, and in the end, knowing that they won't be future stars on The Springer Show is all the back pat I need.
Now, where did I put that Magic Eraser? Kertis! NO! Goldfish don't eat potato salad!
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