Questions from the Sidelines

Yesterday morning I went to Sweetie Boy’s party at school. I am so glad I went, even though – for whatever reason – I was kind of dreading it. It was drizzling and rainy and just gross out so I wasn’t thrilled to drive in it. Anyway, it was fun – I got to read to some of the kids while a couple of the other groups finished up their activities. They are all so cute!

I helped the baby boy but a string on his ornament and use the glittery pens (got glitter ALL over me) and then I even helped two of the cutest little girls EVER at the same table – both blonde and both adorable.

I tend to shy away from talking to other parents; I’d rather hang out with the kids (which is TOTALLY weird because I’m really not a kid person). It’s not that I’m anti-social (okay, a little), but it’s just that I’ve found I get asked questions I really don’t want to answer. Example. As I was standing with one of the other moms, she asked me where I worked. Small talk. Okay, I’m cool with that. So I told her where I worked and what kind of company it was and what I did for them.

Then I get this question: “So is he your youngest or your oldest?” Immediately assuming I have more than one.

“He’s the only,” I said.

“Oh. Are you planning to have more?”

Okay, maybe it’s just me – and my current state of mind – but I was completely offended by this question. Why is it NOT okay to have just one child? But wait – there’s more.

“No,” I said. “I’m done having kids.”

“Well,” she said, a big hopeful grin on her face, “accidents DO happen you know! I said the same thing and then I got my second daughter.”


“Well, his dad and I are divorced so I doubt that will happen.”

And PS he’s “fixed”. Not that THAT’S any of her business either…

Why did I feel as though I needed to explain that to her? It totally ticked me off after I thought about it all damn day and realized how incredibly RUDE that was. BUT WAIT – there’s more.

So then she smiles that pathetic smile. “Well, I’m sure you’ll get married again some day.”

I waited for her to pat me sympathetically on the shoulder. As if being single is completely tragic.

I SO wanted to say, “Men are bastards. I want no part of that.” But instead, I said, “No, I’m done.” And then I walked away.

I mean, really. Just because YOU want to be married and have a passel of kids, doesn’t me I do. And I don’t mean to be offensive to ANYONE who is happily married with kids. The family unit is great – I came from a big family (I have three siblings) with parents who were married 40 plus years. I have NOTHING against it. It’s just not for me. Maybe not now. Maybe not ever. And I really don’t appreciate women looking at me as though my life is a tragedy because I’m single and a mom of one.

I’m happily single. I don’t miss the ex. Not a day has gone by I’ve missed the ex. OF COURSE I miss my kid. I miss him every second he’s not with me and wake up in the middle of the night and wonder if he’s okay. And if it’s thundering outside in the middle of the night, I worry about him. I wonder if he’s scared and if he’s being comforted. I wonder if he got to school okay and if he happy and having a good day.

Does that mean I want more kids? No. Does that mean I need to get married just to fill a void that’s the size of a Black Hole? No.

I’m happy being single. I’m independent and capable. I can take care of myself. I don’t NEED a man to help me live my life or “complete” me or any of that horseshit. What I do need, however, is my son, friends who love me unconditionally, a home to call my own, a job that gives me satisfaction, and a man who understands how important my independence is.

Hm. It seems I already have that.

By Michelle

I wish you all could be inside my head. The conversation is sparkling.