Underdog

My six year old cried himself to sleep tonight. This time it is my fault. He wasn’t listening to me and was talking back, so I took away his flashlight and wouldn’t let him read books in bed. He went hysterical and had a melt down, the likes of which I have not seen in years. I feel terrible beyond belief and almost gave in – but I held onto my convictions and just let him cry till he passed out. This is the first night he went to bed without telling me he loves me – it was painful.

This single mom parenting is so difficult at times. There is just no way around it. I feel like right after my husband died I gave into their every whim. I didn’t punish and didn’t yell – they have truly been taking advantage of the situation. I have started to pull in the reins so to speak and insist they abide by house rules and at the very least stop yelling and speaking snotty to me.

I miss my husband tonight because I feel like I am the underdog when I deal with the children. I am out numbered on a daily basis and there is no one else to turn to when I need help dealing with a four and six year old. Forget the grieving for a moment, that our lives are completely turned upside down and that the future holds more questions than answers. Just dealing with our day to day lives is exhausting and stressful and difficult.

Just being a parent is an impossible, never ending, thankless job that my friends and I all deal with and share together. Being a parent has never been easy, but sometimes I just feel like I am failing miserably.

I wish my husband was here with me to share the highs and the lows. I am tired of missing him so much. I am sad being all alone and just wish he was alive. The children need a father and now he is gone and I am struggling daily about how to keep the children in a happy place in our home. I am trying to be a good mother and not sad all the time. It is exhausting being a parent, it is exhausting to grieve and mourn and it just feels overwhelming to be me.

Last night, however, my six year old son was a pillar of strength. At bedtime we started to pray to G-d and when it came time to say “please bless daddy in heaven” his face scrunched up and I thought it was going to be a tearful night so I stopped talking. He looked at me with his huge brown eyes and whispered, “Mommy, don’t stop talking, just keep praying.”

I started to cry a little and he just looked at me and said, “It is O.K. mommy – just keep praying.” I was amazed at his inner strength, he is so sad and yet he is building up a tolerance to the grief. I asked him if he wanted to talk about anything or cry about anything. He sighed and just said, “I can’t believe our first daddy died.”

I asked him what he meant about his first daddy. He just said, “I can’t believe the first man you married died!” I almost laughed out loud at the awful statement. I said, “No kidding, you are telling me!”

Then he asked, “Do you really have to kiss someone on the lips when you marry them?” I replied, yes and he made a gagging noise. Then thankfully the conversation spun itself into something completely different.

As I kissed him good night and left his room he said to me, “Mommy, I am still really sad that daddy died – goodnight I love you.” But there were no tears from him and none of the usual drama that can accompany nights like this. He is so strong and smart. He knows how to be sad and grieve without letting it get the better of him.

Some nights I idolize his strength. But nights like tonight I want to scream and cry right along side him and make this madness go away.

I wanted to go to the cemetery today, but I didn’t. My heart was tugging at me all morning and after a short fight with the car, that seemed to try and take me there – I just didn’t go. I had a choice this morning – to go to your grave and cry and cry and cry or get caught up in my life. Today life won.

I know I should not let bad times like this get to me. I must remind myself that sometimes all I need is a good nights sleep to make the sadness not feel so sad and embrace the children’s crazy behavior. They are after all just little kids thrown into a big fat mess. I am trying to see the good in the world, regardless of the blackness that follows me.

I wish I could just fast forward these next few months. I want to envision the children and I in a happier time and place. Where there isn’t any yelling and crying and the sadness is at a minimum. I don’t think I am asking too much.