It’s all fun and games until something upsets the apple cart, so to speak.
Single parenting is not easy, nor is it complicated. The hardest part, for me, besides having to do absolutely everything- every day, is the logistics of getting the boys to their various appointments and activities, all at the same time. It’s not rocket science, though, all it takes is for me to swallow my pride and ask for help. Thanks to supportive friends, we work it out.
What throws me off my game is anything that goes wrong. One little thing that adds extra work to my day can really knock me off track.
Today I really did feel like crying over spilt milk. Here’s what happened…
Dwight poured himself a glass of milk this morning. He had a few sips and then put it in the fridge. Yes, I’ve told him not to do this what feels like a thousand times. I reminded him two days ago. He is 11 years old, though, so my expectations only reach so high. In his mind, thanks to our philosophy of minimizing waste, he was doing the right thing.
Tonight, during the tiresome, yet necessary task of making dinner for the boys, I knocked the glass of milk over- in the fridge. Insert exasperated sigh here…
My initial instinct was to yell, growl, find someone else to clean it up. Facts are facts, however annoying, it was my fault and no one else would, or should, clean it up. So, slightly dramatically, I admit, I cleaned it up. Bounty paper towels are a staple in our house for a reason. Spills happen. In the end of the day, it truly isn’t worth crying or yelling over spilt milk.
It’s just a bit of a mess. No one was hurt. The fridge was due for a little cleaning anyway. I soaked up the milk, sprayed it down with a water/white vinegar solution and wiped it again. A half roll of Bounty in the trash and the job was done. I poured myself a drink, sat down and watched my boys calmly watching the Amazing Race. After 14+ months at this job of single parenting, I’m happy to say that that I am still not a yeller. It’s not always easy and is a big relief to know. An incident like the refrigerator milk spill is a cliche reminder. It really isn’t worth crying/yelling over spilt milk. Only a handful of things warrant a parent yelling. It’s a hard habit to break, but the kids REALLY appreciate it and actually listen better when parents don’t yell.
We are 75% finished with this deployment. I can almost see the end of the road when I know Horatio will be home and it won’t be as much of a struggle to keep my patience in tact. When Horatio is home, he often helps with the milk spills or pours the drink. For that, I am thankful.