There's a recent popular song out, and it's on my house cleaning playlist so it pops up now and again for me. When I first heard it, I forced the lyrics towards Tristan in my head, that this was what it was to be not just a man, but an adult and a father. Irregular Skype visits and infrequent physical visits, coupled with badly lagging child support does not a father make.
The more I hear it I realize it's not something to sing with anger. One of the hardest parts of splitting up was the realization that I was no longer in a partnership. Though I may have to deal with Tristan for the rest of my life, it's not co-parenting in any sense of the word. Tristan hasn't set himself up to help make decisions regarding Kaeden. Our relationship soured so shockingly fast-and completely-that I insisted on sole custody, and Tristan eventually agreed after a year of mediation. For all intents and purposes, I am a single parent of a boy. I was raised to only put the lightest of emphasis on gender roles and identity, but with the way our society is names are a good place to start. Right now I'm playing dual roles, some of which I can't even imagine with Kade only three. I am building a village around him as best I can and my parents are a bigger help than I think they realize, but in the day to day I am both momma lady and the 'man' of the house.
Now, this song is an anthem of sorts for me, a calm announcement that I will always face both the happy moments and the tough points without flinching, because that's my job now. Along with cuddles and songs and long days playing at the river come bills, ER visits and the slightly nagging feeling that I'm not the best parent I can be, that I let things slip too much sometimes. I do my best to face my faults, accept help and feedback, but it's a struggle not to let it depress me. I'm one of those people that compliments tend to surprise, and I counter with something I still have to work on.
This song helps motivate me to face another round of dishes and to take pride in the fact the bills are paid. It points out that I can make the choice to improve every day, even it it's just choosing a quiche over chicken nuggets. Sometimes it feels like the past two years have been one long, hard realization that it's no longer my choice to seek my dreams, but to set life up in such a way that Kade grows up healthy, strong, and loved. To put someone else's needs first is the most adult thing you can do, while taking care of yourself at the same time, but it's a hard balance to strike.
I signed up for a half marathon so I would have a shorter term goal to work for, to get some measure of my old log all day stamina and easy, throw around 70 pound bales of hay strength back. My longer term goal is to gain complete control of my fiances, pay off all my debt, and actually have this mystical thing called a savings account. This isn't something anyone else can do for me; even if I do find a decent partner, I will always need to be in control of the money, or I'll let myself slip into bad habits I have yet to completely shake. It's one of the more personal reason I'm sticking with the job I have, to prove to myself that I can stick through the politics, the boredom, the rarely changing routine.
But the really surprising thing is, it strikes a hopeful chord to me. Hope that if I stand up for the good times and the bad ones and the boring ones and every single day, and keep fighting, that maybe, just maybe, my son will grow up good, and I can find a Jim someday to my Pam. And that would be very welcome. Because I can and am doing it alone-but it would be delightful not to have to.
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