The Job

What does it take to be a parent? Is it money? I had always been keen on the idea that love, patience and understanding took precedence in parenthood. It wasn’t until I told my friends and family that I was leaving my husband that my eyes were opened to what the world thought. Do you have a job lined up for when you move? How are you going to manage with two kids? How is he going to help financially? I wondered if that was what people believed a child needed. I am all for financial stability! I work hard and my finances reflect that, but I was still bothered by these questions. This idea that help can only come in the form of money. I started out in my journey as a single parent during our first pandemic and thank God we never lacked for anything. Everything we needed was provided to us somehow. I needed a daycare to get a job, I needed a job to pay for daycare and our apartment. It seemed like a circle of torture at times, but we made it through. I didn’t think much about all this “help” people thought I needed until last night.

Over the weekend, my youngest daughter had a queasy stomach. She vomited in the car on the way to Walmart, while my oldest daughter screamed. Luckily, we were just doing grocery pickup, so I was able to strip her down. Since she didn’t seem to feel bad, I blamed milk with lunch and the hot sun. We carried on. Yesterday afternoon though, I was swamped. I had homework to do, I had work that I brought home, and the time was dwindling down. My precious girls had been playing in the living room floor in front of me, when my youngest started towards me. She seemed tired and she climbed into my lap. I snuggled her while I continued to work from both my work and personal laptops. After a few minutes, my baby sat up and looked at me. I asked her, “What’s wrong Mama’s Baby?” I never should have asked because she answered me with an even brown stream of puke. In shock, I held her tight and cupped my hand under her leg to keep the mush contained. One, two, three rounds of target practice on my shirt followed by a brief intermission. I couldn’t move. I asked my four-year-old to get some paper towels while I sat with my baby in one hand and her dinner in another. I soaked up as much as I could and ran to the shower. I got in and stripped us both down leaving our clothes in the corner of the tub. I let the warm water run over us. I looked down at my chest, my baby was resting her head against me. Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes were tired, and her mouth was open. She was worn out. I held her close and rocked her. It wasn’t long before she fell asleep. As I began to wash her off gently, I thought about the ordeal that had taken place. So much was going on. I thought about what my friends had asked me. How they had mistaken money for help. What they failed to realize was that money can’t do what I just did. It can’t comfort my child; it can’t rock her to sleep and it can’t kiss her goodnight. No amount of money could help me do the day to day, and why would I want it to? I love being a mother. My kisses cure boo-boos! My hugs cancel out fear. My snuggles are full of security. When I look under the bed, the monsters take off! When I think of parents, I think of strong, patient, beautiful people who love their little ones. They love them through life in every twist and turn. They find ways to love them harder during the fights, the mistakes, and the struggles. Being a parent is the hardest and most rewarding thing that I have ever done, and whether I am single doesn’t change my job. I got out of the shower still holding my sleeping baby. I got us dressed and joined my oldest on the couch. I held them both close, cherishing the moment. I felt this sense of achievement come over me and I just smiled, holding back tears. I smiled because I felt so blessed and so lucky. Parents, mothers, fathers, whether you’re doing it alone or you have an amazing partner by your side, we all deserve a round of applause. Let’s remember to celebrate the little things, because we all deserve it.