blues

Single parenthood is hard. Seriously hard. Like harder than anything else I've ever had to do in my whole entire life. Ever.
And it really sucks, because all I want in this entire world is to make my son's life as happy and as wonderful as I can. But after the day-in-and-day-out, 24/7, never get a break except at 10:00 each night, I have to say: I'm officially overwhelmed and burnt out.
I don't want to always be the disciplinarian.
Sometimes I want to be the one who doesn't have to discipline. The one who just gets to play and not truly be there for the all-day, every-day crappy stuff.
There's no one to give me relief. No one to bounce conversation off of.
I miss that.
I miss having another warm body to tag-team with during the nightly routine.
I miss having someone else to lean on occasionally when work, life and motherhood are all simultaneously stacked against me.
I miss having someone tell me I'm doing a good job. Because sometimes, my two-year-old forgets to tell me.

And it takes every good mommy bone I have not to break down in tears when I tell him that I love him more than anything else in this entire universe.... and he looks me square in my face and says, "I want my Dadda."