No doubt about it

It’s hard being 100% responsible for little people. In my case, I’m 100% responsible 90% of the time. That means that generally, the lion’s share of tough parenting moments are mine and mine alone.

Since the day my boy turned 5 months old, there’s been nobody else around to lend a hand with late-night misery. I remember being up all night with a crying infant, then trying desperately to stay awake and be productive at work the next day. And this went on for months.

In addition, when the kids get sick, I’ve typically the only one to deal with fevers, vomit and taking time off of work. Of course, to the kids, nobody else will do when it comes to backrubs, making toast and snuggly hugs. And honestly, there’s no way in the world I’d let someone else step in – though that doesn’t mean that it isn’t exhausting.

Being the only referee in a game where you’re clearly outnumbered is tough. At my house, there’s no man-on-man defense. I’m stuck playing zone – all the time. Negotiating disagreements, breaking up brawls and maintaining a level of peace and harmony with only one set of adult eyeballs is challenging to say the least.

Sometimes, to put it bluntly, single parenting can suck.

Whether you’re a single mom because of divorce, death or military leave – or you’re a married mom who’s alone because your spouse works long or odd hours – it’s a tough gig. There are times when you feel like everyone just takes and takes from you, depleting your time, energy and your sanity.

It can feel like the world, including your own kids, is conspiring against you. And at the end of the day, you either collapse into bed, asleep before your head hits the pillow or lay awake at night, praying for the strength to get through another day.

But, on the flipside, when you’re a single parent, you get to be the only one to reap the benefits and bask in millions of tiny little victories.

Those precious times when your kids look up and say, “Love you, Mom,” are all yours.

I remember the day I taught my daughter to ride a two-wheeled bike. It was frustrating for us both, but when she rode off down the street, I was never more proud of her – or of myself. When my girls’ science fair projects earned blue ribbons, I was just as proud as they were. I helped them pick their projects and I helped them document their progress with painstaking detail. Every time I pass the ribbons, which hang in a place of honor on the fridge, my head swells a little. And someday, when my kids get their college diplomas, I’ll be on cloud nine.

Part of what makes those victories so sweet is that I don’t share them with anyone else. I put in the long hours. I do the legwork. The parental credit is all mine.

Last night, my youngest was sick. It was awful. He was up every few hours with a throbbing ear infection and congestion that made it hard for him to breathe. At 3 a.m., as I tried to relieve some of his discomfort with “Mr. Snuffy”, our bulb syringe, I cursed the fact that his father was probably sound asleep across town.

Eventually, my son and I ended up falling asleep on the floor in his room.

At 7 a.m., with my ear to the carpet, I was awakened to the sound of a chair being pushed across the kitchen floor below. Instantly, I was wide awake, wondering how much trouble, two seven year-olds could get into trying to make their own breakfast. I felt frustrated, knowing I’d gotten too little sleep to face whatever disaster was waiting for me downstairs with any kind of patience or objectivity.

But when I opened the bedroom door, I nearly melted at the sight of a little stool, perfectly set with my breakfast. There was a bowl of cereal, mug of milk, a folded section of newspaper and even a small vase of daisies. This sweet gesture touched me so deeply. It renewed my spirit and instantly gave me strength to face the day.

There are times when your kids recognize that someone needs to take care of mom too – and this was one of them. And I was so proud of my girls for understanding this and stepping in.

After my initial surprise, again, I thought about the kids’ dad. He was probably still sound asleep miles away. Instead of feeling resentful or jealous that he got a peaceful night’s sleep and I didn't, I felt really sorry for him. Sure, he misses out on the hard stuff, but he also misses out on great moments like these.

Even though being a single parent is the hardest, most frustrating thing I’ve ever faced, it’s also the most rewarding, fulfilling thing I’ll ever do. I wouldn’t trade my life for anything – not even a full week’s worth of uninterrupted sleep. And I bet that other single moms feel the same way.

So for now, I'll just continue take things one day (and night) at a time. And drink lots of coffee in the process.