Solo Mother

a little single mama rambling

by christina on September 28th, 2007

I’m going through some Big Scary Stuff right now, stuff I’m not ready to talk about, but Stuff that has hit me back down into the realm of humble and grateful and… humble. And so in love with my kid it’s beyond the capacity of my heart to contain it. I hope, when things get rough for your in your lives–as they will, from time to time, no doubt about it– that you will look into your child’s eyes and know that any amount of fight, sacrifice, and challenge is worth it. I hope, when you don’t have the strength to keep going, your children’s love will lift you up and give you the strength to put one foot in front of the other ’til your particular crisis has passed.

My son has turned into something of the charmer. In the morning, he will say, “I like those pants you’re wearing, mama, and your shirt.” Doesn’t matter what I’m wearing, he just wants to practice paying out compliments with a generosity that leaves me smiling for hours. I always thank him for his compliment, and tell him it made my day. Which usually, it does. Often at dinner he’ll turn to me and ask, in a voice far older than his four years, “So, mama, how was your day at work today?” and I will have to answer him seriously, so we can have a Conversation. In the morning on the bus he’ll cuddle up next to me and we’ll play the “I Have an Animal In My Head” game, with usually hilarious results as I watch him changing his mind about what animal he wants me to guess with every question I ask. He’s created some incredible animals on the way to school.

Yesterday I was lost in my own, terrified thoughts as I walked slowly to pick him up from the rendez-vous spot my mother and I use, when this burst of blue-eyed wonder tackled me a block from where I’d expected to see him, a bag full of beautiful, chocolate cupcakes proudly thrust into my hands. “Guess who made them, Mama,” he crowed.
“Who?”
He pointed proudly to his own self, then barreled back down the sidewalk to check out the statue at the corner. I walked slowly, backwards, wiping away the sudden flood of tears. Who is this child, and why is he so good to me?

I have to be strong, for him. Even when I can’t be strong for myself.

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