It’s almost 11pm. I am tired. Right before I carried my sleeping son from my bed to his bed, I checked out the prompt over at NaPoWriMo and figured I’d just wing this one.
๐คช๐คช๐คช๐คช๐คช๐คช๐คช๐คช๐คช๐คช๐คช๐คช๐คช๐คช๐คช๐คช๐คช๐คช๐คช๐คช๐คช๐คช๐คช
What It’s Like Being A Single Mom During a Pandemic
๐๐ญ๐ข๐ฌ๐ฃ๐ค๐ญ๐ข๐ฌ๐ฃ๐ค๐ข๐ข๐ข
I drive into the city to pick up my kids.
The city doesn’t act like a city anymore.
It looks uncertain and confusedโ
like the rest of us.
It looks like it is waiting for somethingโ
like the rest of us.
๐ป๐ป๐ป๐ป๐ป๐ป๐ป๐ป๐ป๐ป๐ป๐ป๐ป๐ป๐ป๐ป๐ป๐ป๐ป๐ป
We get back home and I fiddle with my computer
until I successfully get my fourth grader into her online class meetup.
I bring her snacks.
She tells me she isn’t supposed to eat during online learning.
(I think to myself, Why in the world not?)
I watch her drawing during the online class,
just like she does when she attends class in person.
I mean, just like she used to do,
back when kids went to school…
I fiddle with my other computer
until I successfully get my second grader into his online class meetup.
I bring him snacks.
He chews with his mouth open
and sprays bits of apple on my laptop.
I am not amused.
I attempt to read while they finish their online class meetups.
I am only partially successful.
๐ณ๐ฒ๐๐ท๐๐ฒ๐ณ๐ฒ๐๐ท๐๐ฒ๐ณ๐ฒ๐๐ท๐๐ฒ๐ณ
I take my kids out on a walk.
It’s a beautiful, cool day.
My ten year old is already fifteen in her tone, body language,
and declarations of existential angst.
I am not amused.
I attempt empathy, patience, kindness, and compassion.
I attempt to enjoy my walk in spite of my ten year old’s angst.
I am only partially successful.
๐ง๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ญ๐ฌ๐ง๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ญ๐ฌ๐ง๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ญ๐ฌ๐ง๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ญ๐ฌ
Back home my idea to bake brownies
devolves into a fight over who gets to set the oven temperature.
I am not amused.
I again attempt empathy, patience, kindness and compassion
and am mostly unsuccessful.
I am disapointed, annoyed, frustrated and depressed.
I want to scream.
๐ฉ๐ปโ๐ป๐ฉ๐ปโ๐ป๐ฉ๐ปโ๐ป๐ฉ๐ปโ๐ป๐ฉ๐ปโ๐ป๐ฉ๐ปโ๐ป๐ฉ๐ปโ๐ป๐ฉ๐ปโ๐ป๐ฉ๐ปโ๐ป๐ฉ๐ปโ๐ป๐ฉ๐ปโ๐ป๐ฉ๐ปโ๐ป๐ฉ๐ปโ๐ป๐ฉ๐ปโ๐ป๐ฉ๐ปโ๐ป๐ฉ๐ปโ๐ป๐ฉ๐ปโ๐ป๐ฉ๐ปโ๐ป๐ฉ๐ปโ๐ป
Another mom tells me that her husband is annoying her
by sharing his two cents about their kids’ remote learning,
and then going back to his remote working
while my friend attempts to harangue their kids
into actually attending to their remote learning.
She is not amused.
I am suddenly glad that I am single.
๐ฅฆ๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฅฆ๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฅฆ๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฅฆ๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฅฆ๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฅ
I make dinner with as much efficiency as I can muster.
We eat well.
The kids devour their dessert.
We sit together working on our own things.
My ten year old draws.
My eight year old works on a puzzle.
I play with my singing bowls.
We are very successful.
๐ฒ๐ณ๐๐ณ๐ฒ๐๐ฒ๐ณ๐๐ณ๐ฒ
We get ready for bed.
I read to them a few pages
of The Phantom Tollbooth.
My son passes out.
My daughter goes back to her room
to read some Harry Potter.
I muster up the strength to carry my
eight year old into his room.
I pour him into his bed and tuck him in.
My ten year old is still reading.
I tuck her in and turn off the lights.
She smiles and says I love you.
I am extraordinarily successful.