Every so often, I find myself at home with Autumn without Keith. It doesn't happen often anymore, now that he doesn't have to work weekends. And it's not the weekends as much as the weekdays, after a full day at work, that really cause me to thank heavens I'm not a single parent.
Last night Keith had to drive to Mentor, Ohio, after work. All three of us were going to go until he called me yesterday at work and said he was running late. We talked and decided it would be better for Autumn and I to stay home so she could still get to bed on time.
We had to stop at Wal-Mart on the way home for diapers and refills for the Diaper Genie. When I noticed the new Subway inside Wal-Mart, I knew I found dinner. The last thing I wanted to do after arriving home late because of our stop and while having Autumn constantly underfoot, was to cook dinner.
We got home around 6 p.m., just as Keith was grabbing what he needed to get on the road. Autumn saw him leave and promptly stood by the door crying "Da-da! Da-da!" But soon she calmed and we went up to eat our subs. Then we went for a walk. We read books. She got a bath. And a little bit after I laid her down in her crib, I heard the garage door open as Keith came home.
Single parents do all those things and more every day, without help. They make dinners, because you can't eat Subway every night (unless you're Jared). They read the stories, give the baths. And if they own their own home, mow the lawn, weed the flowers, shovel the snow in winter. They do the dishes, vacuum, do laundry, take the kids shopping and run older children to practices and lessons. The single parent goes to work and comes home to start their parenting job without any time to sit and relax in between.
Each time I'm without Keith for one evening, I think how lucky I am to have him around to give the bath, to go on walks with us and to do the dishes. And I think of a woman I know who is a single mother and has done a wonderful job with her daughter. I picture her carrying groceries and her baby (now plenty old enough to be walking on her own), one in each arm. And I think she must be exhausted every day.
But you know what was on my "Moms" calendar earlier this week? No matter how exhausted there's always this thought, which trumps anything else in parenthood and must be what keeps single parents going:
"There are very few problems in life that cannot be made better with a simple hug and a kiss from a six-year-old or the sweet gap-toothed grin of a six-month-old."
How true.