Thermos of coffee. Still-frozen grapes and watermelon sprinkled with feta and mint (and I drank the juice which was the best/weirdest smoothie I’ve ever had. Try it!) And free at no additional charge, the seaside’s signature thalo-dermabrasion/pedicure treatment and seaweed wrap, because Mother Nature > Groupon. Good morning!
And on the way home we stopped for the best ever late lunch, and S. didn’t even complain about the fish smell. Grouper sandwich, coleslaw, key lime pie. That’s what I want for my last meal, should the question ever come up after an unfortunate incarceration, just so you know. And I don’t want any of the wardens complaining about the fish smell, either, as a personal favor to me.
And I’m not done yet. A nap is next. Then maybe a steak? Or a movie? We’ll see.
The reason for my day of fabulousity? Father’s Day Single Mama’s Day!
If you have someone in your life, your history or your home worthy of the honor on Father’s Day, more power to you.
I don’t.
Moreover, as a single mother for over a dozen years, I have better things to do with my day today. I’ve claimed today as my personal holiday. Well, more than personal–I’m celebrating all single mothers today.
Single mothers, my sisters, I salute you and encourage you to do the same. Party like the man of the house. Accept — in fact, send the kids to the store with your credit card to procure — piles of gifts befitting your grandness.
Rake in the bitchingest power tools and gas grills and Playbooks–because we are the ones who rock those tools in our houses. Take a nap, eat lobster, command the freaking remote–or get yourself flowers and new red-bottomed shoes and every single thing you want on iTunes without even adding up the total–today is yours.
There needs to be a day for women who provide, all too frequently with limited or no help, for the financial, emotional, spiritual and educational development of our badass, independently fantastic, resilient offspring.
Forget that instrument of the patriarchy bring-home-the-bacon-and-fry-it-up-in-a-pan as-foreplay freak. She has nothing on single mamas. I’m talking about moms who single-handedly pay the mortgage or rent and bring home organic avocados for that soy bacon and bear the stress of all of the provision alone, track every detail of their kids’ lives, and even when necessary bolstering them to thrive through what’s hard about not having a second parent present, such as coaching them to manage less-than-stellar visitation relationships or to find other father figures or reasonable facsimilies there-of.
Single custodian parents are everyday heroes. The U.S. Census says there are millions of us, and the vast majority of us are women, are employed, and are raising kids who are faring very well, thank you very much.
You will know us by the tired crinkles around our eyes, by our maxed out budgets, and by the deep, knowing grin that beams across the room when you compliment us on our kind, smart, wise kids. Because we know exactly why they deserve your praise.
Like the army of women like me, I’m used to making it happen, all of it happen, pretty much by myself. So I make Father’s Day Single Mama’s Day happen for myself, too.
Whether your kids visit their dad today, or whether that’s not an option for whatever reason, I say to all single mothers: take today as yours. And if you got a late start because of all of your other responsibilities today–take the whole week. Make a festival of it. You sure as hell deserve it!
So do I. And I’m about to prove it with an epic nap followed by whatever I want to do. Because Single Mother Nature > just about everything else.