Single Mother's Day

I don't have any words of inspiration to single mothers. I don't consider it a badge of honor. It's hard and thankless and hurts like hell. But, that's life. That's just the way it is. You do the best you can with what you are given.

I love my son. He is the most beautiful thing in my life. The one thing I got right, through no doing of my own. God's precious gift to me. Doing this alone was nothing I would have ever wanted, but it happened just the same.

I got pregnant at 18, by a boy that I later realized I really didn't even know. At the time I thought I knew him. Thought I loved him, thought he loved me too. I suppose I did love him at the time - to the extent my young heart understood love. We were just two dumb kids playing with love and sex. It never occurred to me that what we were doing would forever change me. I didn't realize I was making life decisions. I was just having fun. Being young.

Time goes by so quickly. Like a flash of light 11 years pass. My son. He's so funny and smart. He makes me laugh in spite of myself. He reminds me of all the thing I used to love most about myself, before life and experience took the last of my innocence. In him I see all the potential I once saw in his daddy. He's loving and compassionate. He's good kid, you know? He's a good boy. He comes and hugs me just to hug me. He brings me flowers and tells me he loves me.

To be loved. To be truly loved, unconditionally. I am SO BLESSED. He looks at me with such compassion and affection. He trusts me and needs me. I am strong because he needs me to be strong, so I find a reason to keep going. He makes me want to be better. He's watching me. How I carry myself, how I handle my responsibilities. How I allow myself to be treated by men. From me he will learn how to love and accept love. The message he receives from me will color how he sees the world. I have the responsibility of molding and shaping him. That's an awesome and often overwhelming task.

There are days I stress from the moment I wake up, until late at night when the anxiety keeps me from resting. There were times when I would I cry and cry until I forget even why I started crying, and all I could do was wait until exhaustion took over and at last I fell asleep.

So, yeah. I'm a single mother, a “baby's mama” and all that.
I'd like to find the fool that coined that phrase and beat the hell out of him.

That is all.