Relentless

 Solo parenting is relentless, in Brazil we have a saying that soft water dripping on a hard rock will eventually make a hole. It may be true for rocks, but it is not true for most parents, you carry on against the constant dripping of responsibilities, you bear them and somehow you carry on.

Lottie being sassy, as usual.

The dripping is financial, mental and emotional, it is exhausting to juggle it all.

I don't know what silence is anymore, I am pulled in so many directions that the phrase spreading yourself thin doesn't even cover.  Drip, drip, drip...

As much as I love my children, their constant chattering is distracting and deafening, I cannot hear own thoughts in the midst of their demands. I miss silence, I crave silence. My thoughts race back and forth, by constant demands by everyone and everything. It's chaotic and tiring, in my house the demand outweighs supply. 

I won't begin to write the number of times I forget stuff; bread, milk, salt, book day, red nose day, odd socks day, why do school have so many days grrrrrr. I even tried to write lists (which btw I am very bad at) just to forget the lists at home. I had the odd question, mum why are you so forgetful, my answer is because I am only one. A lone soldier with family that lives thousands of miles away.

I am the supplier for everything, hugs, cuddles, answers, schooling, grief, joy, sadness, plasters, food. Only I never get to recharge, to breath, to regroup. The rare occasions that I do, I noticed I feel calmer and happier, I regain my balance and become I am better person all around. 

I move so fast, a pointless exercise to try and keep on top of it all, that sometimes I wonder if I will break the sound barrier, with a small crowd looking on in amazement, what was that!? A solo parent.

Just to be clear solo and single parenthood are very different end of. If you have a partner who is around for the children and have them every other weekend then we are NOT on the same boat. I am raising bereaved children while navigating my own grief. When holidays commence and I have to work my only option is holidays clubs, there are no two homes, no double holidays and no break.

While some families eagerly wait for the school holidays and enlighten me with their cool holiday plans, most of the time I know that school holidays mean one of two things; I will spend a huge chunk of my salary on clubs or I will be hounded by constant demands.

I go to bed at a ridiculously early hour and you would be forgiven to think that I was 90 and not 43, but I find that is the only way I have the energy needed to carry on.

My children, if you ever read this, you are not a burden, I love your laugh, smell, and spirit but it is undeniably tough for me to juggle so much.

I had this chat with my daughter.

 - Mum wouldn't be great if we had a 100 fingers.

- Well, wouldn't be great if you had 3 of me.

- Or 3 daddies.

My throat tightened and my heart sank, I'd be happy with just one daddy, back to where we started off as a family, back to how we should be.