Monday Morning Motherhood: Me Sans Mini-Van
April 30th, 2007 by Melissa Brannen
In my previous columns, I’ve covered a number of issues and challenges that I and other parents face. With this column though, I’d like to talk about, well, me.
I had a plan, damn it. I like plans — stability, purpose, and more stability. Mine went a little something like this: a loving husband, three kids, a beautiful house, and a mini-van. I know, I know. Even I can’t believe I dreamed of a mini-van. But that’s what I had always planned.
So, I was engaged to man, and we were making wedding plans, we were making plans for our future. And then, the stick turned blue. When I first told him I was pregnant, he thought I was telling a joke with a stress-inducing punch line. After convincing him that in eight months another human would be popping out of me, the reaction was not what I’d expected: within a month, he was gone. He started living with another woman, moving on with his life. And I started living, alone and scared to death, with a child inside me. Morning sickness and weight gain were the least of my worries. How in hell was I supposed to give birth and raise a child all by myself? I’m the girl who once tried and succeeded in out-drinking a football player at a frat party. The girl that skipped 95% of her classes the first semester of college. Me and a kid? I’ve got two words for you: holy shit.
Well, as it turns out, I could do it. Still doing it now, too, though that’s probably fairly obvious given the title of my column and the not-so-tall tales about my daughter. It ain’t easy, my dear readers. Being the sole financial provider, the keeper of the Cheerios and Dora the Explorer yogurt, and the one who deals with all of the problems, all of the time, gets to be strenuous.
When she was an infant, there were times that the exhaustion would overwhelm me. Every bone in my body would scream for sleep, and there’d be no sleep in sight. There were times that her incessant crying would have me on the bathroom floor, bawling my eyes out, unsure of how I could ever survive this. I constantly second-guessed myself about what formula I fed her, what toys she played with, and if it was okay for me to get a sitter and take a night off.
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