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Getting used to life as a single parent

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As a single parent, you get used to doing everything yourself, especially if you are the primary caregiver of your children. I never liked the term, “custodial parent,” because to me that just sounds like all you do is clean up after them, so, yeah…I guess that is pretty accurate. The non-custodial parent just takes them out for ice cream and carnival rides, then delivers them back to you on Sunday at 6:00 pm, so you can clean them up and get them ready for school the next day, so that term is pretty accurate as well.

Anyway, you get used to doing everything yourself when you are the primary parent in your kids’ lives. Eventually, you get used to all that goes with being the parent. You get used to doing all the laundry. You get used to cooking all the meals. You get used to doing your own grocery shopping, party planning, yard work, and home improvements. You get used to letting the dog in and out at all hours. You get used to putting your kids to bed every night, and waking them up for school every morning. You get used to helping them with their homework, even though you stink at math.

You get used to a lot as a single parent, because you have to. It isn’t always a choice. You just do it because it all has to happen, and you’re the Supermom or Superdad who is going to get it done.

As a single mom, I have gotten used to all these things. But, one thing I realized that I have never gotten used to in the last five plus years is the fact that nobody else comes home to me at the end of the day. Of course, my daughter does, and that is irreplaceable and wonderful. But, I mean, another adult.

After a long day of working and getting all that stuff that has to get done, done, there I am. Just me. I am not cooking dinner for anyone who is about to walk through the door after a long day at work. I am not planning an evening of relaxing on the couch, talking about my day, because my significant other isn’t going to walk through the door after work, calling, “Lucy! I’m home!” Of course, my name isn’t Lucy, so if someone did come through the door calling out “Lucy!” I’d probably dial 9-1-1 to report an intruder.

This makes me wonder: Do you ever get used to being the only parent; the only adult in the house? Let me know what you think. In the meantime, I’ll be cleaning up…something.

For more musings on life, visit my blog! www.myhighmaintenancelife.com

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