Posted by Kristin D on 30th August 2009
Categories: Found Love
11 Comments
I’ve been missing in action from this space, struggling for several weeks with what I would write. This column is called Single Mom at Work, and it’s been a diary of my experiences of heartbreak, hope, balance, and the all-encompassing undercurrents of this life: happiness and stability.
When I started writing for Work It, Mom!, my little boy was just two years old. We spent our time mostly alone: on the beach searching for scuttling creatures, in the forest twirling in the rain and stomping mud soaked boots. Looking at the clouds in the air, searching for the future in a promising ray of light. I made dinner for him and ate the leftovers off his plate. My Mom took him while I did my business trips: exhausting day jaunts to San Francisco and LA when I’d leave the house at 4am and return near midnight, my Mom asleep on my couch and my still-wee boy entangled in his blankets, dreaming. I’d kiss his head and creep to my room and set my alarm for two hours later, when I needed to complete a freelance project. I supported the two of us with no financial aid from my son’s Father: it compelled, exhausted, and terrified me while simultaneously filling me with a kind of pride. I could do this, I was doing this, albeit sometimes barely.
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