Happy Mother’s Day single moms and single moms-to-be! To all of you hard-working, amazing solo moms wearing 16 different hats trying to keep you and your kids afloat during quarantine, or desperately wishing to be moms, I see you!
I think being a single mom in quarantine is the biggest test of single motherhood I’ve faced thus far, and I know many of you feel the same.
I’m reminded of all the past years that a group of single moms gathered together for a Mother’s Day potluck celebration together at a park or a fancy brunch without our kids. It was a joyous day, holding each other up and honoring the leap we had all taken to be mothers on our own. A moment to join in solidarity for the choices we had made.
Mother’s Day in quarantine….. My son is too young to make me breakfast or plan something for me. I have to remind him it’s Mother’s Day because no one is helping him remember or do something special for me. He desperately wants to show his love, but what can he really do. There’s no breakfast in bed, no bouquet of flowers because he just can’t.
If I want a moment to myself today, I have to turn on the TV and hide in my bedroom. Of course, his warm snuggles and big kiss this morning are all I really need, but it’s hard to see all those mothers out there who get a moment off today–a hot bath, a walk alone, a chance to sleep in. It’s a small thing but still makes the day just a little bit bittersweet.
It’s week 8 or 9 of quarantine here in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico (I’ve lost count). Honestly, I’d really like to stop counting, cause I’m barely just surviving and I’m sick of seeing those who are thriving during the quarantine. “Today we baked some stuff (Sourdough, OMGEEEE!), the kids rediscovered an old toy/instrument.”
Yes, you’re baking a lot. I know.
Meanwhile, I’m juggling work, homeschooling, getting meals on the table, and generally entertaining my kid. Not to mention, my old, very sick dog and my 87-year-old mother whose cancer has spread and will likely die in less than 3 months. I don’t know if I’ll be able to see my mom again or when life will return to something I recognize.
Every time I see my friends on social media with big houses and pools, husbands who take turns with the kids, moms who have time to do cool homeschooling activities with their kids, or hell, take a walk without a child in tow or can go to the grocery store because they have someone to stay with their kid while they go, I have instant feelings of jealousy.
Every time, a mom tells me they understand my situation because their husbands barely help, I just feel angry. Pre-pandemic, this bugged me but now it makes me seethe and I can feel all the emotions welling up in me. Like they do every few days.
And then the tears come. And I just let them. Forget about holding it together– it feels so good to just cry it out every now and then.
Like most of you, I’m trying to walk a line between staying positive, being realistic, and just plain surviving. It’s true: there are so many great things to come out of this… and so many losses. All swirled together in one giant mass of emotions.
Personally, it’s really the uncertainty that gets me the most. I think I’m better than some at dealing with uncertainty. But this is one of those really big tests that is pushing me beyond my limit.
Will our kids go back to school in the Fall? No one knows. They can’t know. It all depends on what happens this summer.
And what if schools and daycares don’t open back up? How will we work? If we can’t work, how do we pay the bills?
This question is top of mind for most parents, I know, not to mention single moms. And thousands more are already in these exact dire straits. And again… there is no answer.
These are super important questions, questions that affect our very livelihoods. And how can we not be stressed about that??
It feels like just about everything I cling to for stability is crumbling around me. I find myself grasping for some normalcy, some support, some assurance that life as I previously knew it will return. But too many things are in flux. I freak out.
Then for moments, I see possibility. Great freedom in letting go of what I’ve been holding onto–a chance to rebuild my world in ways that might be more nurturing and sane. And, I bring it back to center: we are okay, we are okay, we are okay.
I’m learning that I need to work on some important skills:
- Lowering the bar,
- trying to find the positives,
- accepting what is,
- being okay with uncertainty,
- and trusting that if I let go, I will find something better on the other side.
…I’m telling you this because I suspect this is where many people are at, and sometimes it’s just nice to know you’re not alone. Among all these smiling, sourdough-making friends who are so proud of all the crafts they’ve constructed this week and how many closets they’ve cleaned out, you are not alone in feeling worried and sad about life and the future right now.
I’m so glad to have you, dear readers. I feel like we are going through this journey together. No matter which stage in the solo mon game you’re in, I hope you’re hanging in there and realizing some amazing silver linings. Who knows, maybe you even learned to bake bread 😉.
If no one is there to recognize you for all your courage and bravery, please know I’m here for you. Whether you’re desperately trying to make your dream of motherhood come true and are stalled, or in the trenches of day to day life completely alone, I see you.
We will figure this thing out as we go 💪🏼 — and everything will be okay (right!?).
Be well and Happy Single Mother’s Day in quarantine! 🌸
P.S. If you’d like a little extra support, I’m offering a quarantine coaching special for $127 a month! Set up a FREE consultation to see if it’s right for you.
Join Plan C Mama Newsletter
Why Plan C?
Subscribe to get my monthly resources, special promotions and updates about navigating and celebrating all paths to motherhood. I'm so excited to be in touch!
Even if your plans didn't work out as we expected (psst, it never really does), don't let it stop you from embracing your unique path.