As I sit at the Egg & I, enjoying possibly the first meal out alone in 7 years, I’m struck by just how tired I am. I mean, I’m tired. The kind of tired where you feel as though you’ve had a ton of alcohol first thing in the morning (not that I ever have) and your mind is skipping a beat, not to mention someone keeps rocking the boat…wait, there is no boat. I hope no one else can see how tired I am…. Yea. That kind of tired. How does it get like this? Kids are tiring, but this?
Zach is quite unable to participate in the daily activities of our family life. It will be like this for some time. I should just think of myself as the single mom for a few months. The sole one cooking (stop laughing), cleaning (no really, stop laughing), enforcer of the rules (yea, you’re not laughing now are you), changer of the routine, watcher of the mayhem, entertainer, doctor, transportation assistant, shopper…the one who wakes and contains the non-sleeping little boy in the next room throughout the night. Though this is what we moms generally do on a daily, weekly, lifelong basis, it’s still a little different when your partner’s unavailable to pick up your slack, allow you to sleep just 5 minutes more, provide a distraction to the on-slot headed your way.
So, as I sit, peacefully eating my Huevos Rancheros (which the waitress assured me is less calories than I think because I removed the ranch potatoes), all I can say is:
Single moms, moms who have been the sole balancer on this trapeze act, or those who do this on a regular basis, I now bow down to you with a renewed perspective and respect for all that you do. (Yes, I’m bowing).