What All Parents Can Learn From Single Parents
I was three and a half months pregnant when my partner and I parted ways, and I suddenly had to rebuild my life around something I never expected: single parenting. In operatic moments, I composed in my head everything that I would most likely have to give up as a sole guardian: my difficult career, my exercises, my friends, reading, going to restaurants, going to the movies, going out into the world. generally. I was scared to live alone with my parents.
Now I can say that some of these fears have come true. But most weren’t. The big surprise was how little time I had to worry about it. Raising alone is never easy – it often feels like my daughter and I live in Jenga Tower, and any awkward step threatens to ruin it all. But when you are forced to make all the decisions, you start making better decisions – with your child, your time, and your life. Here’s what I learned about parenting alone.
Boredom is good for kids.
Last summer I decided to run the half marathon, the first since my three-year-old daughter was born. I followed one of those Hal Higdon’s workout regimens ( recommend !), But since I couldn’t leave her with a partner while training, I had to strap her to a stroller and take her on a few excruciatingly long runs. It went wrong at first. There were hysterics. There was one particularly unpleasant diaper change miles from the bathroom. But over time she got used to it, and now she loves to run with me (and often tries to run next to me for a couple of blocks until she gets tired).
This is one of the many boring adult activities she enjoys. We do almost everything together on a need-to-know basis, from grocery shopping to cleaning the house, so the sheer demonstration made uncomfortable things a pleasure for her. For me as well. On our runs we chat about birds and flowers. At Sephora, one of her favorite stores, I offer lavish descriptions of the potions on display while she collects free sponges and cotton swabs for her dolls.
Yes, I would prefer if we spent all the time together reading or in front of the easel, cultivating her inner Picasso. But assignments can be just as edifying, if not more: she studies the world around her and, ideally, begins to understand that these tasks are an important type of work. Her Goldfish doesn’t miraculously appear in the closet, and she knows it; she is with me every time I buy them.
If you hate taking your kids with you, which I totally understand, try doing one assignment at a time. Point out things along the way and let your children touch and play with what they are passionate about. Then do it over and over and over. Eventually it becomes a chore and they look forward to it. “Mom, can we run on business?” is a question that my daughter asks regularly.
You can say no
I used to be terribly good at saying no. Before my daughter was born, you could get me to watch your five colitis dogs for free while you travel around India for a year. Now I say no to almost everything. Work activities that turn into evening hours. Social gatherings not meant for children. Neighbors ask for favors. It’s a matter of survival: if I overdo it and fail to meet my daughter’s needs, who will?
Interestingly, at work I also learned to say no. I’m a design editor, which means I get dozens of promotional material about sexy things like office chairs and smart toilets. Before my daughter arrived, I may have wasted time with dumb speech and then spent another 10 or 15 minutes writing a respectful rejection email. Now I say no, thanks and move on.
This is not a big discovery. Most people become more choosy about how they spend their time after having babies. But perhaps not shrewd enough. I’m surrounded by parents who take on more than they can reasonably handle, and who run into a heap of exhaustion every night after being too indiscriminate with their yes.
The trick is to treat your time like a series of transactions. “What do I get by agreeing to water my neighbor’s plants or taking on this extra task at work, and does that outweigh what I get from spending time with my children or time for myself?” In nine cases out of 10, the answer will be no. You can roughly articulate your priorities in such harsh words, but when you do, it’s much easier for you to say no to something that you cannot do in the first place.
Letting others be your child’s parents will help everyone.
Like most people, I become a better parent when I don’t do it all the time. I am lucky that I live within 10 minutes not only from my mother and father, but also from my brothers and sisters and their partners, who are madly in love with my daughter and perceived “a village is needed” as Holy Scripture. They are not just nannies, they are second and third (fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh) parents.
My parents, in particular, have taken on an intense educational role. They see my daughter almost every day and watch her at night about once a week, while I hang out with friends, go out with my new boyfriend, or stay at home and watch Netflix (a real luxury for single parents). The obvious benefit: I have time to be alone with myself. And when I am alone or with other adults, I am more patient with my daughter.
Not everyone is lucky to have a family nearby. The key for any parent, single or otherwise, is figuring out who to rely on in your community and then not feel guilty about depending on them. People love cute kids! Especially people who may not have children of their own or who, like my mom, have retired and are looking for new ways to feel useful. Asking them to take care of your children is a gift, not a burden. Another important point is to step back and let them behave like parents. Don’t micro-manage relationships. The more responsibility you give others over your child, the more they will invest in her life.
It’s okay to let the child see you struggle.
Last week I got terminally ill and couldn’t get out of bed to brush my teeth, let alone my daughter. Her answer: “Mommy, I will take care of you. Okay? “Adorable, but also … sad! She’s only 3 years old and already thinks she should take care of me !? I assumed I would be toothless and decrepit before she felt it.
Another perspective: She gets to see me fight. She sees me working full time, caring for her and managing millions of other things, and admits, albeit rudely, that our comfortable lives require work. This fight is completely normal. This domestic work matters.
If you are upset about something, do not pretend to be stoic and do not lock yourself in the bathroom to sob alone. Open up to your child. Let her see how frustrated you are and talk about your coping mechanisms. (“Mom’s going to scream into her pillow,” maybe my daughter hears this too often.) Then, when you feel better, say it too so that she understands that the anxiety can be dealt with and resolved. And, hopefully, as your child gets older, he / she will feel like fighting, talking about it and asking for help is okay.