A day in the life of a single mother

I woke up this morning still hacking up my lungs and unable to breathe through either nostril – another day of my summer cold. Stella woke me at 5:15 and I would not give in until 5:47 at which point I could no longer stand her whining. Outside for dog activity and peeing, inside for feeding, then walking, then finally I made a cup of decaf and by the time I got the cup to my lips, Tin woke up.

He was hungry. What would you like? I asked. “French toast,” he said. So I then I took out the eggs and the butter and the cinnamon and the bread and milk and the powdered sugar and proceeded to whip up French Toast. And I scrambled some eggs for myself and put them in a warm tortilla. We had some sweet watermelon left so I cut up some pieces and cleaned blueberries and then we were ready to sit down to eat.

We sat, and immediately Tin started pouting. What’s wrong? He wouldn’t say, but I could see he was looking at what I was eating and thinking about it. He ate a few pieces of watermelon and one bite of French toast and said he was full. Really? I thought you were starving and you asked for French Toast.

Then I cleaned up the kitchen, took the sheets off both beds, started the washing machine and we got dressed to go take Stella to her obedience class. We got to PetSmart and as soon as we got into the room for the training, Tin began running around causing Stella to want to run, but thankfully the A-student was on her best today, but the instructor talked to him about helping to train. She had encountered this on Tuesday when he came with me and wouldn’t listen to either her and me.

As soon as we began the lesson, Tin started demanding to be fed. He was hungry. I said you should have thought about that before you wasted all that French Toast. The rest of the lesson was spent with more time disciplining Tin than Stella.

We came home. I had bargained for a day of nothing – clean up his room, finish the laundry and lounge for the Lord – that’s what I thought was in my cards. I made tunafish salad for lunch and let him watch a dinosaur video and took the dogs out back. I made the beds, and ironed a pair of pants and got Tin’s camp stuff together and then gave him some lunch.

A friend called and said her daughter wanted to come for a playdate. Tin was very excited. They came over and the minute they walked in the door Tin was mean, rude and wouldn’t let the child play with one thing. Everything was a fight and struggle. I tried to have a conversation with the mother about our stuff, but it was interrupted at every turn with a fight that had to be broken up. By the time my friend left, I was vexed, completely vexed.

When they walked out the door Tin was whining for a video, for gummy bunnies, and I said absolutely not. He wanted pasta he said, so I made a pot of penne with peas and pesto. We sat down for dinner and I calmly told him that I did not like his behavior all day – I explained about the breakfast (he said he wanted what I had), the dog obedience class (he said Stella was being bad), the playdate where he jumped on the little girl which busted her lip and he told me that it wasn’t him, it was his evil twin Skippy.

I told him that we all have an evil twin Skippy but we have to own him. Just then Heidi bit Stella and Stella let out a hurt cry and Tin laughed. And that’s when I lost it.

So now he’s in bed. I have few minutes of solitude. And a day that had begun with all good intentions ended raw and overexposed.

Right now, I’m grateful that tomorrow is Monday and camp resumes because one more day like today and one of us would not come out of this partnership alive.

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