Category Archives: ThriveSingleMoms

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An Open Letter to All Mechanics from THIS Single Mom

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Hello. Hello.

Thank you in advance for your time. I do not speak mechanic, but I know you speak Single Mom, so please, let me go first.

I need you to understand two things: 1) I have no spare money, and 2) I have no spare time. I have multiple children at multiple ages in multiple schools and I work a full-time job, a part-time job, a full-time mom, and I try to have a semblance of a life outside of those things. This affects both my money and my time.

With that said: I have no spare money. I pull a small herd of imaginary rabbits our of a non-existent hat every month to do the barest of minimums. My grandmother referred to it as “robbing Peter to pay Paul”. I am often shifting and splitting and deferring fees and charges to make daily life possible. I buy everything on sale, I’ve been surviving on hand-me-downs for decades, and nothing I have is of my own design. My life is a patchwork, just like my car, and God ain’t through with us yet.

So, when it comes to the car, I need it to run. Smoothly. With heat and air. Car maintenance is hard for me. Do you know why? Because I have to prioritize and reprioritize—on-a-dime, every day. I have to manage the calendars of work, school, after-school, dinner, childcare, and my non-social life. Something always gets pushed and, in my world, it ends up being the car. I know, “if it was important”. But my car is my life. I cannot do anything without my car. I NEED MY CAR. Since I cannot add any hours to the day…you know the rest.

Can you come to fix the car, in the driveway, at night when I’m asleep and don’t necessarily need it? Probably best if you arrive with nachos, then I won’t have to ask to leave in the middle.  I can’t come to sit at your oily little shop with the very low chairs and weird bathroom. I cannot sit there for hours upon hours. I have no spare time. There’s a gaggle of old folks that have been here since dawn. They’re all at 2,501 miles and wanna make sure they get the oil changed posthaste!

I wrestle a bear every quarter to see if I have enough time to either a) get my hair cut, OR b) get a massage, OR c) get a pedicure. For me, it’s ONE of those things, once every three months, if I play my cards right, and Peter forgets to pay Paul.

I might have just enough dollars between my four prepaid debit cards to do the one thing that I knew had to be done on my car. I know there are other things. I KNOW THERE ARE OTHER THINGS THAT NEED TO BE ADDRESSED. But I need the one thing for that one amount or something similar for the same amount or less. Please, for the love of all things holy, don’t give me that “father knows best” look and then a dissertation about cars. I don’t know the last time any of it was done. Yes, it’s my car. Yes, I’m the only one who drives it. But I cannot answer your questions. Please just do the one thing.

Please don’t name parts. I don’t need to know. I’m sure I should know. I’m sure it would benefit me to know. You know what else would benefit me? Getting out of here 85 minutes ago with the oil changed. Do you want to know the names to the parts of the sewing machine? Or the ingredients in my chicken pot pie? Just gimme the damned thing already. I don’t wanna discuss it with you.


Can you just help me? Can’t we make a plan? I’ll fly by at 42mph every other 19th month and you can run some water over it or whatever other mechanic magic you do? I just cannot have another in-depth conversation with someone about how I’ve “got to do better” at this, that, or the other. I hear it from so many other places, on so many other levels. Can you please, just be nice to me?

I’m not saying to ignore safety or let me wander in the world with no brakes or no oil. But I can’t take that look of disgust and the down talk. Don’t belittle me or try to shame me. I know the car is in bad condition, but so am I. I’m not asking for things to be “free” or “free from cost”.

I’m asking for empathy and compassion when you speak to me.

I have always been told to be careful about mechanics and maybe that feeds into this as well. The same goes for having jewelry appraised or my grandmother’s Featherweight fixed. “Be careful who you trust with it”. I was told to go to a trusted mechanic. I went. He talked to me like I was an idiot. He rambled on and on about this and this and then this and this. I cannot deal with that at 5:07pm on a Thursday afternoon sir. You have used the time allotted to you. I gotta go, man!

I think there could be more grace extended to single moms for oil changes, flat tires, and other regular vehicle maintenance things. I’m not asking for things to be “free” or “free from cost”. I’m asking for honesty. It’s obvious I don’t know much about cars, but that shouldn’t be a signal to you to overcharge and abuse me. Honesty will get you a return customer.

Shame and disregard will get you an open letter.

I’m known to be an ostrich—and just bury my head in the sand about some things. And maybe that’s what I’m doing here. I do not know all the ins and outs about cars, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t need one and own one. I feel that car repair shops and single moms should be on some other plane of existence. No one needs as much help with their cars as single moms.

Can’t the Rotary Club dudes get together with the Elks fellas and use the parking lot of local shop to manage oil changes? Or “flat tire Friday” allowing you to have your tires looked at, aired up, and maybe plugged if needed. Just a full-service gas station for single moms. How would you know if she’s a single mom? LOOK AT HER CAR!

Food for thought.

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Under Control Mom

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I have $8 cash. My bank accounts are empty. Like less than $2 each, empty. My refrigerator is also empty. There’s a few things in there, but it’s far from where it should be, or where I’d like it to be. My gas tank is also empty. And I spent most of today ruminating in that emptiness, feeling defeated. But right now, at the end of this day my heart is so full.

My youngest is a sweaty sleeper. He protests going to bed as if he was being sentenced to walk the plank. But truth be told, he’s asleep within minutes of lights out. And he’s sweaty right after that. He’s a frequent pillow flipper and he often switches blankets according to the temperature in the house, the type of pajamas he’s wearing, and his mood. He just stirred from his sleep and I gave him a sip of water, flipped his pillow, and kissed his sweaty little forehead. “Are you ok?” I asked. He nodded yes.

I’ve checked on and tucked in the other two. My daughter (and middle child) is always last on the list to close her eyes. She’s a wild one. Sleeping in strange contorted positions and her mama-allotted stuffed friends lining the bed. My oldest is as tall as boys two years older than him. His arms and legs are long and act as weapons in the night. It’s like sleeping next to a daddy long leg spider. You’d swear there were multiple knees and elbows. But no, just two of each.

Isn’t it always when they’re sleeping that we admire them so? Little angels. But it’s not about my sleeping spawn that I’m sharing. The truth behind the title is that I am struggling. I am literally up to my ears in the stress of life, and I feel fine. I feel better than I have in a long time. I have doubt and worry and concern, but right this minute I have a warm safe home and my kids are sleeping soundly without a care in the world. I do have it under control.

Tomorrow will bring another day and a whole other round of unanswerable questions, and infinite scenarios. But I’m going to take a breath to enjoy this moment in time. I am going to mindfully revel in the fact that it could all fall apart so easily, but my duct taped faith is keeping it still and holding it together. Thank the Lord! 🙏🏽

My life and my home are chaotic. But that’s the nature of parenting. I don’t ever claim to have it all figured out, but I do know that there are really special moments tucked in around the chaos. And this is just one of those moments.

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Good Mom, Bad Mom

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Single moms are SuperHuman. I don’t say that because I am one. I say it because it’s indisputable FACT. Being a single mom means that we get to have all of the jobs. We get the good jobs, and the bad jobs related to parenting. In the days, weeks, and months preceding our becoming a mother, we make silent promises to our children and pledge our hearts and our protection to them for always.

We vow to provide unconditional love and support for all eternity. We promise to be there during their health, and the innumerable sicknesses. We take an oath to stay when our children are giving us all of the attitude. We commit to try not to lose it when the tear-producing overwhelming “I maked you a Vamentimes” (with seven pounds of pasta and four pounds of glue) gratitude arrives. We even remain steadfast and gracious, when the gratitude is forgotten. We do our best not to roll our eyes or swear when our children take us from richer to poorer. And then poorer. We hold their tiny hands through all of the joy and even the unavoidable, oh the unavoidable pain… We are on-call and available for all of the hours in all of the days from forever ago until never. We love our children from before time and until the end of infinitude.

Included in all of that is also those times we have to say “no”, or “not this time”, or “we’ll see”, and occasionally “not in this lifetime”. We are both the bearer of good and bad news. We get to plan, execute and surprise our Darlings with excitement and joy. But we also have the privilege of  crushing the dreams of a teenager hoping to go to a party where no parents are home, or to a sleepover at their boy/girlfriend’s house.

Being both the good mom and the bad mom can drive a woman crazy. We are often seen planning while talking to ourselves. We have to come up with a battle plan, and a back up plan. We are strong enough to give the bad news, deal with the mouthy backlash, and the clean up afterward. Sometimes we don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, or have to say “no” again. Sometimes we want to be the Hero that comes in and saves the day.

That need, to not always been seen as the hateful law enforcement of the home has led to moms everywhere changing the way they parent. We do our best to say “yes, yes, of course, always, and yes” as often as possible. When we have to say no, we try to make it as soft as possible. Now, that’s not to say that we let our kids slide on manners, or responsibilities — we just really creative and take an extra step or two to ensure that we the joy outweighs the pain.

My personal saving grace (at this financial juncture) is Dollar Tree. I can spend a few dollars, and my kids are through the roof happy for a brief moment in time. And, honestly, that’s all any of us need. Just a few moments to catch our breath, sneak a cookie, read an email, order something online, or just enjoy the non-argumentative silence. Our favorite thing to do these days is “have a party”. It consists of two things: blown up balloons, and music. Seriously. That’s all. I blow up the balloons (all 10 of them) and turn on 1970’s disco. And for the next sixteen minutes, my household is free of yelling, screaming, fighting, arguing and crying. We dance, we laugh, we love. The HappyHousehold trifecta!

At other times, I make a ton of tiny pancakes. Or cut the sandwiches/ into shapes. Top the brownies with marshmallows. Pinterest is a great place for HappyHousehold resources, but don’t dig too deep. You can easily lose your MamaMind comparing your current snapshot to another person’s highlight reel. Bath time fun is amplified by thousands by simply adding a one dollar ($1) 8-pack of glow-in-the-dark bracelets. Us Mamas have to find a way to sneak the good times in because it won’t be long before we are enforcing the rules again.

Single moms are strong, resilient, and resourceful. We take on the world, with our kids in tow. All the while we are finding teachable moments, creating new ways to spruce up leftovers, make Halloween costumes, preserve the Advent, give back to our community, support our Sisters in Christ and in Motherhood, while nursing a baby, going back to school, starting our own business(es) and working a full-time job. Everyone wants to be the Good Mom. But we aren’t just Good or Bad Moms — We. Are. Great.

http://www.everydaypeoplecartoons.com/cartoon/122