My Day

Maybe the most frequent question I’ve been asked since becoming a single mother is “How do you do it?”.  To this I answer “I. Just. Do.”

Seriously, every single day, I get up and I have no choice. No sleeping in because he has to be at school by 7:45 and I have to look like at least a moderately functioning human being when I drop him off.  There’s no stopping after that, either. But it doesn’t seem like a whole lot of work anymore. It just feels like…my life.

I’ve found the best way to explain “how” I do it is to tell them what every day of my life is like.

I wake up at 5:45 every morning and wander around like a zombie for about ten minutes while I let the dog out and put on my pot of tea. Green tea, because my panic attacks are triggered by even the slightest jolt that the caffeine in coffee gives me.

I catch up on emails, I plan out my day. I make a list of what I MUST accomplish that day. Sometimes I actually get through that entire list without the slightest batting of an eyelash. Some days I don’t get any of it done. But, most days, I get through the day without falling back asleep. Most days are really great days.

Then, by 6:45, my son has to get up because it takes him a solid 20 minutes to function enough to eat, get dressed, and get out the door. Most days he yells at me or I yell at him. Those days are becoming less frequent.

By the time I get him to school and get back home, it’s time for me to catch up on more emails, either head to class on the bus or head to the office where I work for a non-profit that engages progressive voters. It’s good work, but it is taking the soul out of me from all the fighting.

I’m tired. I go to work all day and when I get home, if I have enough energy, I hang out with my kid for an hour and try to get him to write his name or do something that doesn't involve a screen before I have to get him in the tub, get his teeth brushed and get him to bed before 8:30 so I can use the last bit of day that’s left in me to do homework and crash around 10. Usually I get to bed around 11.

So this is my day. I don’t date. I don’t “party.” I rarely leave this beautiful porch of mine because no place else catches me as well if I need to fall down. But, I can’t complain. I wake up every morning and still have 10 fingers and 10 toes. I still have air in my lungs and I still have two legs to take me wherever I need to go. It’s not an ideal day, to be so rushed and stressed to get so much done with so little time and resources, but it’s my day and I am grateful for each one that is given to me.

So, when you feel like you just can't go on, think about how much you can actually fit into each and every 24 hours you are given and find something to do with each of them. Don't keep saying "someday."