Sprinkle Me

My sister and I were latchkey kids. 

My mom worked two jobs for most of our childhood. She was a single mom raising two growing girls. Our day to spend with her was Sunday. We’d wake up, get ready for church and, hopefully, swing through Popeye’s afterwards, depending on how money was looking.

I remember my mom fussing a lot during our childhood. She was never mean to us, her patience was just thin and she, literally, didn’t have a lot of time to keep saying the same thing.

At one point, I remember saying to her, “I know you love me, but I don’t think you like me.”

I was young. I was emotional. And I missed my mama.

During the week, I was bombarded with images of families that didn’t look like ours: The Cosby Show. The Nanny. Family Matters. Step-by-Step.

All these warm, funny moments that always ended with a short heart to heart that made everything better and all right with the world. Until the next episode. 

And then came our 8th grade ice cream social. Nothing out the norm. I didn’t even think the flyer for it made it home because I knew the extent of our family participation was going to be me helping myself to two scoops, please and thank you.

Imagine my surprise when I walked down the stairs and glanced through the cafeteria and saw my mom standing there.

I cried. Immediately. At the damn ice cream social.

And it had nothing to do with the ice cream and everything to do with the fact that my mama had showed up. For me. For an event that I didn’t even bother giving her the flyer to because I knew her work schedule(s) wouldn’t allow her to make it.

But there she was.

She wasn’t Claire Huxtable, but she was my mom and she was present and she’d carved out that couple of hours just for me.

Best surprise ever.

So, now that I’m a mom, and a single one at that, I try to never lose sight of that feeling. The impact you have on a child when you just show up. 

But society doesn’t make it easy for us to be there. 

I 100% agree with the notion that kids’ social structures aren’t built with working parents in mind. Kids spend more time at school than they do at home and it’s hard juggling being apart of that when you have to work to ensure a house for them to come home to.

And when we can’t make it, we tend to beat ourselves up. Awards ceremonies, school carnivals, field trips, etc. All during the day. All during work.

It’s about balance. And understanding what works for you doesn’t tickle me.

I’m not a stay-at-home mom, never been one, and, honestly, I have no desire to be one. Not in the traditional sense, at least. And that’s no shade to them but my interests take me elsewhere.

And I don’t feel guilty about that. Judge ya mama. Or don’t. Because she did what she felt was in her family’s best interest. And, sometimes, that meant what was in her best interest. She’s apart of the family too. 

And moms come last too often and too easily.

So what do I do? Every other Friday (because, payday bih), I try to take my baby for a scoop of ice cream. I just sit with her and enjoy her and, for the moment, the only guilt I allow myself to feel is from all the calories I’m packing in.

So, what about you? What guilt, or lack thereof, do you struggle with? And what would it take for you to let it go?