The single mum’s lament

groundhog day

As I sat sponging my nine-year-old’s back with an oatmeal-soaked cloth at 11.30pm last night, I felt pretty tired and alone.

The poor petal had an allergic reaction to something and was covered in an awful, itchy rash. I tried everything to soothe her: antihistamines, cortisone cream, paw paw ointment, an oatmeal bath …

She finally fell into an exhausted sleep as I pressed a cool cloth on her skin.

I don’t normally have the kids on a Sunday, but my ex has a meeting and an awards dinner this week, so he dropped the kids off yesterday afternoon and they’ll stay with me until this Sunday. Normally he has them Sunday, Monday and Wednesday night, which gives me a little wriggle room.

There will be no wriggle room this week. It’ll be a long, hard grind.

And I’m so tired before it even starts.

I always feel a bit wrong when I moan to still-marrieds about not getting a break from parenting, because they never get a break from parenting.

But, when you’re a single parent you’re on your own – there’s no one to share the emotional or physical load. Sure, I can get the nine-year-old to vaccuum, but that’s just the tip of the staying afloat iceberg.

I should have done a bit of prep over the weekend, but I was floored by a throat virus. The floor didn’t get mopped, the frying pan wasn’t scrubbed, the toilet bowls look like science experiments. I stuck to the must-dos: washing school uniforms and grocery shopping.

It means I’m waaaaay behind before I even start.

My week looks like this: start work at home at 6am (well, I start scanning the news sites at 5.30am to see what’s transpired while I’ve been sleeping).

At 7am, I roust whichever child has band training out of bed. Then I frantically finish posting my first story of the day while hustling the kids through getting dressed, eating breakfast and packing their school bags.

Then I drive whichever child is going to band training to school at 7.30am, most likely in my pyjamas.

Then I drive home, get ready for work, drive second child to school, drive to the train station and catch the train to work.

This afternoon I will leave work and catch the train to my gyno to discuss my dodgy lady plumbing. Then I will pick the kids up from music lessons at 5.15pm, drive them home, feed them a quick dinner, hustle the youngest into something festive, then drive to her Christmas band concert.

Afterwards, I will prep for the next morning and clag in bed.

Groundhog Day will strike again at 5.30am, when I’ll repeat the morning routine of scanning news sites etc etc etc.

Tuesday afternoon is a doddle, just driving the eldest to art class, going home and making dinner and driving back to collect her from art class.

Afterwards, I will prep for the next morning and clag in bed.

Groundhog Day will strike again at 5.30am, when I’ll repeat the morning routine of scanning news sites etc etc etc.

On Wednesday afternoon I’ll collect the kids from school, give them dinner, hustle the eldest into something festive, then drive to her Christmas Band Concert, drive the youngest to her gymnastics class, return to watch the concert, dash out before the end to collect the youngest from gymnastics, then bolt back to collect the eldest.

Afterwards, I will prep for the next morning and clag in bed.

Groundhog Day will strike again at 5.30am, when I’ll repeat the morning routine of scanning news sites etc etc etc.

Thursday afternoon is another doddle – I just collect the eldest from school, then prep dinner before driving all of the youngest’s friends home from skipping class.

Afterwards, I will prep for the next morning and clag in bed.

Groundhog Day will strike again at 5.30am, when I’ll repeat the morning routine of scanning news sites etc etc etc.

Friday afternoon is even easier, just collect the youngest from school – the eldest is potentially at a sleepover – and lie on the couch in a semi coma.

Saturday is rest day … well, aside from Christmas shopping then heading to the youngest’s Christmas gymnastics performance at 6pm.

There will be no time for my usual sanity savers: night walks, gym, after-work drinks, DD.

Just grind.

Fortunately, things lighten up on Sunday when I head to my sister’s house to celebrate her birthday with Balmain bugs, prawns and champers. Preferably in the spa, preferably with DD. Champagne in the spa with DD makes everything better.

Not to mention a laugh with my sister and her awesome hubby.

Can’t wait to celebrate, sis!

How’s your week looking? Are you in pre-Christmas hell too? 

Song of the day: Boomtown Rats “Tell me while I don’t like Mondays”

 

 

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3 thoughts on “The single mum’s lament

  1. When it gets crazy like this I think it’s best to just stay on the day you’re in and not look ahead. Get’s too overwhelming that way. Just do one day at a time and this too will pass.

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