I do my best as a parent

I say this to myself everyday. I hear her cry about something I have no control over, i give her a hug and sooth her anxiety anyway I can. I keep her healthy, safe and sheltered. I make sure she eats good healthy food and keep her active with friends and family (as much as I can since we live so far from everyone.)

I do my best.

My best isn't always great, perfect or AWESOME!
But it's Good. It's predictable and it's what I can do.
And its okay.

Attention getting

As a single mom, sometimes i get down on myself about how i do things. I don't have anyone to bounce ideas off of. I don't have anyone being objective or at least offering counter ideas to be my balance.

My daughter is very smart. She has great social skills. Her attention span is a little shorter than i would care for. But i am not sure if it is a problem or just that she isn't quite five yet. It's hard for me to know when --or if-- she is paying attention to me, unless i get right down into her face and look her in the eye. I try toi get her to repeat back to me things, if it is important. But still, I wonder.

I am hoping to get her into Junior Kindergarten in January. I worry she will not be able to keep attention long enough to get her skills up for kindergarten. She has a hard time holding a pencil--I know she knows *how* but, it's that she doesn't *want* to most of the time.

I wonder if other single parents have these kinds of worries? I don't have anyone to talk it over with, so I don't know how to judge if I am overreacting or what.

While doing it alone is hard, I wouldn't change anything. While doing it alone can feel lonely sometimes, I love being with my daughter and getting all her attention. Now if i can just figure out how to get her to hold a pencil for more than about ten seconds!

life's definitions

i am finding that creating a valid and current definition of myself is difficult. 

once upon a time i was a young, naive sheltered girl-child of an immigrant mom and an alcoholic father. Another upon a time ago i was a crazy college student who loved photography, experimented with love and learning and got my heart broken. yet at another time i was entranced with the hippie anarchist-activist lifestyle and was mostly transient and homeless. after a while i becomes settled into a life that seemed not so much as a sell out as a buy in. i became a nonprofit, development professional. 

toward the end, i drove many, many thousands of miles for friendship and love, always moving and avoiding permanency and experimenting with alternative and even secret lifestyles. 

but permanency is unavoidable. i was caught up by a child.  she has taught me some seriousness in her very short life. and while getting pregnant was a surprise and a little unnerving, there was never a question about what would happen. there was the sudden realization i needed a home, a good job and to surround myself with stable and happy people. i could not indulge my depression and transient lifestyle anymore. 

luckily, i can say that i have succeeded in much of that. 

the sad truth is that i wonder "who was i" if "who i am now" is so comfortable. was i that lost? was i that disconnected with the world? how can any one person go through so many changes and come through it intact?

and that's the other thing i wonder about. am i intact? i work on the depression. i work on keeping myself grounded and from spinning out of control. yet, i continue to imagine other people all have it completely pulled together, that their plan is moving along nicely for their lives, while mine is tattered and worn.

does changing your life so many times make it more worthwhile. i can say i did so much. i can say i saw so many places and met so many interesting and valuable people in my life. i can say i learned more than i ever could have by staying in one place and playing it safe.

but, i cannot say that my roots have grown deep enough that i will survive if there is a crisis. i am nervous my child doesn't have a family as an anchor. i worry i have done her a diservice, without knowing she would come along. as a single mom, her existence depends on me. only me.  the pressure of this is sometimes unbearable. 

but when i look into her eyes, the pressure seems to lift away and her love carries me. corny i know. but it is true. when i see her i know i can do anything for her. 

my fear is: i will do absolutely anything for her and lose myself in the process. i feel guilty and selfish when i want to make myself happy without her. i worry i am betraying her by working on my own definition and not on her happiness. 

people tell me that if i am not happy, she won't be. people tell me all kinds of things that sometimes sound like excuses or defences or justifications. for themselves or me, it doesn't really matter. 

all that matters is that she is happy. once you have a child, your own happiness isn't really all that important anymore. you have accepted mortality. she is immortality and will carry forward the definition of herself, not me. 

my newest definition is as her mom. and for now, that's all. yet...i continue to look for additions to my definition--guiltily. 

parenting and self

I watch my child run around the house, just to run. I see her spin, dance and literally bounce off the walls. She has more energy and spirit than I ever had. Or did I once posses this life force too? Her ability to bounce from wild happiness to absolute desperate sadness is frightening, and I pray it isn't some underlying template for her future. 

She should have the brightest, happiest, most carefree (yet stable) life imaginable.  She can pursue and achieve her dreams. I want so much for her, that the idea of figuring out a way of providing her the map to get there is unnerving. I am paralysed by the thought of providing her sustainable and renewable happiness. I worry I won't be able to do it. 

Do all parents feel this way? Did mine? My mom is gone now, but I think that her life was centered on making her children happy, to a fault. Her life suffered from it. Am I selfish for wanting to be happy also? Because I am a parent, am I supposed to give up my own joy? 

My joy has become making my daughter happy. My dream has become for her to  achieve whatever she wants in life. Also, though, I do not want to become my mom. As much as I continue to love her, I do not want to lose a sense of myself. 

How I define myself will inevitably include my daughter, but will not only be about her.