Baby Time!

And by nothing … I mean, absolutely nothing. No money. No resources. No support system. No Baby Daddy.

And when I say I can make something out of nothing … I mean … I can literally, physically, against all possible odds, create magic.

You know how some people get handed lemons, and then they make lemonade? I get lemons … and then I whip up the most incredible ice cream, apple crumble and chocolate mousse cake and leave all the haters wondering ‘how in the actual f?’.

I wish this column permitted emojis. Because if it did, I would insert the guy-wearing-sunglasses emoji now.

That’s it. That is my claim to fame. My ability to turn nothing into something, that’s my superpower.

How did I get that superpower? I got it like all single moms do … by accepting the damn cards I was dealt.

There is no point crying over spilled milk, and there is no point lamenting on how bad you’ve got it.

You take what you got, and then you raise hell with it.

My superpower was not nuclear generated. It didn’t come from a radioactive spider. And it sure as hell didn’t come from my rich and powerful daddy.

My superpower came because I had no damn choice.

And I wear my superpower like a Badge of Honour.

That badge got me through raising two grown sons on (quite often) brown bread and sugar water. That Badge of Honour got me through not making rent and getting kicked out. That Badge of Honour got me through telling The Man (The Boss, The Lover, The Landlord, The Taxi Driver, The Bank Manager) to take my short little middle finger and stick it where the sun does not and will not ever shine.

If I could tell any newbie single mom anything about the future, it would be this: Allow it. Allow all the tears, all the fear, all the fighting to stay alive. Because once you come out on the other end, it’s going to be easy. Easier than you would have ever imagined.

And how easy do I have it now? After 15 years of being a Single Mom?

I don’t want to brag (nobody likes a bragger!), but I will tell you this. The Trolls went from barely reaching my knees, to towering over me. By a head and then some! I no longer have to be afraid of somebody hurting them, somebody has to be afraid of them hurting back.

I cook … because I want to, not because they can’t cook for themselves. I raised them well. I raised them tough. I raised them smart.

I’m not worried about whether I’ll be ‘alone for the rest of my life’ anymore. Because I know for a fact that I won’t be.

And so, in conclusion, my last bit of news for this week, after all the crap, all the heartbreak, all the inhaling-and-not-exhaling, The Trolls and I are finally moving on to the next chapter.

I’m getting a baby. And the Troll’s are getting a baby sister.

A kitten baby sister. And she is small and fluffy and adorable and, just like us … will probably be very annoying.

(Insert all the happy smiley emojis here.)

Till next time.

– urbansinglemom@gmail.com

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