May 17, 2009 07:33 am
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When I last submitted a Guerilla Mothering column, I described life happening around me as a confusing jumble of puzzle pieces. Even just attempting to work a jigsaw with my youngest was an emotional experience, evoking a cavalcade of feelings, thoughts and exhausting confusion.
It’s been several weeks, and I’m happy to report that the pieces seem to be falling into place. I didn’t plan for this, but at the age of 36, I’m setting out on the path of single motherhood — and so far, it’s good. My kids are doing well, and that matters to me a whole lot more than my own well-being. I have learned, however, that my happiness is not just a piece of the “healthy family” puzzle — it’s an enormous section. “If Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy” indeed.
Deciding to end my marriage was not an easy choice. My kids are young, and I treasured the dream that they would grow up in a home with two loving parents who were dedicated to their well-being. I am a fortunate woman in that regard — their father is a good man who wants the best for his children. The fact that we couldn’t remain married doesn’t seem to have stopped our joint cooperation for doing what’s best for these boys, and I am extremely grateful for that.
It hasn’t been easy, but we’re making a pretty good job of this transition, best I can tell. The kids seem happy, there’s less bed-wetting going on, the house is cleaner and I feel like I’m giving the boys more attention than ever.
If you’d have told me that I’d be a better mom as a single woman than I was married, I’d have laughed and called you a liar. I never thought I had the strength to be a single mom. Handling everything from sunrise to sunset — and beyond — on my own? Negotiating cooperation and obedience from the boys at the grocery store? Lawn maintenance, laundry, bill paying? Everything? How could that not drain every last ounce of energy from me? What would be left over for hugs and cuddles and baking cookies and all that stereotypical mom stuff?
While there are certainly many, many heroic moms among us who do all these jobs on their own — every day of their lives — I have been surprised by something I never accounted for, when I imagined the alternative of single motherhood. There are days off.
The boys’ father is loving and attached to his sons. He takes them for a few days each week, and I have them the rest of the time. On the days that the kids are with their father, at first I dealt with a tremendous mixture of guilt and loss. Who was I, and what was I supposed to be doing? I missed my sons and felt like a failure without them here with me.
Amazingly, I began mothering without my kids around. I folded their clothes, shopped for their groceries, provided a sanitary and safe kitchen and bathroom for them to enjoy. Heck, it took three bleach soaks to get the tub completely clean, it had been so long.
Errands that I’ve needed to run, research that I’ve needed to do, forms I’ve needed to fill out for school, bills I’ve needed to pay — these tasks and more have been accomplished while my kids have enjoyed spending time with their father.
My children come back to a friendlier, more peaceful home than they’ve ever had. They’ve got my attention all to themselves. They’ve got a regular routine that I alone am responsible for enforcing, and the consistency they’re living with seems to be comforting to them.
As a “Guerilla Mom,” I’ve always thought that the key to success in raising kids is to remain flexible, open-minded and creative. Yet, for years, I tried everything to maintain the status quo. When I knew something had to change, I asked God to show me the answer. “God, help me do the next right thing with a clear mind and an open heart” was my constant prayer. I even had it on the dashboard of my car, so I’d see it over and over again as a reminder.
I’ve never been a big fan of divorce, and it was my opinion that God probably was not, either. I’ve always felt compassionate for those who had to go through it, but I suppose my expectation was that if I ever divorced the father of my children, I would be kicking and screaming. I dearly loved him and never wanted to admit that love — a word that’s synonymous with God in my personal lexicon — was not enough. Love can conquer all, right?
As simple as it sounds, I came to love myself enough that I had to accept the life I had built was not making me happy. I opened my heart and opened my mind, and a completely Guerilla answer came to light. I made this decision with a clear mind and an open heart, and I did it for my kids as much as I did it for myself. Even though it was something I thought I never wanted — never ever ever — I think it’s working out.
I used to worry about my kids growing up with the stigma of being children of divorce. Now I know that anyone who judges them is naive. Love may last forever, but not all marriages do — and that’s OK. I hope that when my boys become men, they will not be afraid of the adventure that is love, life, marriage and parenting. One thing’s for sure: It’s a path of challenges and surprises, where you never know exactly where you’ll end up.
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Photos
Leslea Harmon