Single parenting makes me think
I’m on my own for a bit — Irene’s in Geneva for work — from yesterday until Thursday afternoon. I’ve looked after Mallory on my own for several days at a time on a few occasions, so I’m fine with it this time. How could I possibly complain when it’s the teachers at Mallory’s day care who will be doing most of the work anyway?
But it does make me think a bit.
Thought one: fear of loss of total control
We were at the agricultural museum this morning — somewhere I went with her a lot when I was off work caring for her — so the setting was quite familiar. It felt different though, because she had changed. She’s running now. And I mean really running. She’ll go and not stop for quite some time. I was filming her as she ran up the pathway between the two ‘show’ fields and a feeling I’d had yesterday came into sharp focus: she’s no longer completely and utterly under my physical control, and that’s scary.
When I was here before, I carried her or had her in the stroller most of the time. Or when she was walking she was never more than an arm’s length away from me. Now, she can get a distance away and will keep moving.
Happily, she responds to parental instructions. Just not fast enough for my liking.
The first time I got this feeling she was on the bike path, riding her tricycle, through the Queensway underpass near our house. The path dips and the tunnel restricts visibility. “Stay on the right side of the path†had been my almost constant mantra since leaving the house. She mostly obeys but at that moment she chose to cycle across to the left side, just as an older man cruised down the hill, right into her path.
He saw her and slowed, but I’m sure he and the ducks, geese and pigeons clustered beneath the overpass heard the fear in my voice as I called out “Mallory – right side of the path now!†and physically hauled her and her trike over to the correct side.
“It’s alright,†the man said, as he geared down and glided by. I smiled and nodded, but inside I was panicked at the disconnection between me and my daughter, because the split second required to reconnect and regain control of her movements might have been too long to prevent a serious accident.
Thought two: you had better be bloody careful, to say nothing of organized
I was making a cheese sauce this afternoon while Mallory napped, and enjoying a cup of coffee in an open mug. Since Mallory’s been born, we’ve been drinking coffee in travel cups to minimize damage from any spills. I hate it, but can’t argue with the sense of it.
But when Mallory’s not around, I like to drink from, you know, a normal mug. Except today, as I was cooking, I almost spilled the coffee on myself. I briefly sketched out a bunch of scenarios on how to cope with a large second degree burn and a two year old. None of it sounded very good.
This brought into focus another little incident yesterday. We were practically foodless and I needed to go shopping. The plan was to feed Mallory and then go to Loblaws. Not exactly your early childhood education dream curriculum but what’re ya gonna do?
Only I couldn’t find my wallet. There was no cash in the house, and I had no ID so I couldn’t even write a cheque. Wouldn’t be able to get on the plane Tuesday to get to my dad’s appointment. Would likely get pulled over on the way to day care Monday and probably jailed for driving without a license. And so went the scenarios. Irene would return Thursday to find the house forclosed and me tenting in the park with a business card from the Children’s Aid worker to call to get Mallory back.
You really have to learn to manage the moments and keep organized. And look out for yourself too.
Today went much better. We had dinner together. She was excited by the new food (gnocchi, which she liked), we had a bath, and she was eyes-closed by 8:30.
