Oh, how the past few years have worn me down. The schedules. The sports. The oldest graduating. The middle graduating in 2014. The oldest moving out. The middle requiring 25 hours a day of baseball each day. (Yes, 25. Per day.) The littlest with his soccer.
Now we have college searching and scholarship finding. And I do have a full time job!
But I have THREE boys.
The little (10) has had me the least amount of time, and at this point, also requires the least. He will also have all of me as my middle takes on college this summer.
We had a situation last summer over him moving into a competitive soccer league. He scored 1/2 of the goals and was one of the better players on his team. His nickname in the rec league isn’t Speedy for nothing.
I said no, nevertheless. Everyone else disagreed with my decision and it got ugly.
You see, selfishly, it is SUPER hard to single parent more than one child, and to reiterate, I have three. His dad didn’t understand that because he is his only child .
On top of the $1,500 to play – at age TEN – competitive soccer was going to require a ridiculous amount of time and travel, and I think that is awful. I think it’s wrong and I think that our kids still need time to have fun.
I stood by my decision, however unpopular it was, because I knew it was the right one. The more difficult one, but it was the right one.
The soccer thing is actually GREAT and my guy got the better end of the deal in the end. He was put onto a “secret” team who took the entire season undefeated. And that competitive team? Never won a game and is falling apart. You’re welcome.
Parenting multiple children is absolutely heart wrenching sometimes because I am always choosing one child over another. No matter that I kill myself to make every single game every one of my children have played, I am always making a choice and someone is always getting the short end of *my* stick.
This has forced me into making the most of the time that I do have and has made me a great mom.
Lately, I have been able to devote, nearly 100%, to the little. The oldest has moved out. The middle is never home because he has school, baseball and work. So it’s us.
I cherish having the time to help him with homework without being irritated because I am worn out from being pulled in a million directions.
We have begun an evening ritual of snuggling in on the little couch and reading together.
And I curse the day when our schedules take this away again.
When the weather was nice I walked down to his school, rather than driving, to pick him up and while I started doing it for the exercise (3 miles round trip), I got SO much more out of it.
He takes his soccer ball to school and he’d kick it as we walked and I would steal it and he’d steal it back. We posed shadow people on the sidewalk. We never, ever stepped on cracks in the sidewalk and I always wore his backpack so he could run.
I’m still tired. Honestly? I think I’m just old. I’ve been at this parenting thing for 19.5 years (more than 1/2 of my own life) now and man… it is the hardest thing EVER.
A few nights ago I bought a gingerbread village with the promise that he and the 17 year old would build it together, but the schedules never jived so he was left to face it alone.
Tonight he said to me “mom, will you help me with this?” Admittedly, I didn’t want to. I wanted to lay on the couch and do nothing.
But I didn’t. We built the gingerbread village together, and I am so glad we did because my presence was graced by the amazing self-professed “Gingabread Kang.”
For the record, this photo I took of him with our village inspired this whole post because look. Look at what I would have missed.
So, I urge you, single moms, to do things even when you’re too tired do them (except drive. Of course.). You never want to look back on and say you wish you had done because there is no room in life for regret.