Quite a lot of the time, when people learn I’m a lone wolf
mama to twins, they look at me with pity.
“Wow!” they exclaim, “that must be hard!” And yep, sometimes it is. But isn’t any type of parenting? Sure, it’s
hard work, it’s relentless and it’s all on one pair of sometimes very tired shoulders,
but there are plenty of amazing benefits to doing it solo. Here they are:
1) Your word is law.
I make up (as I go along!) the rules in our house. There is no contradiction, no playing one
parent off another, no uncertainty. When
Zachary is standing, mud in hand, ready to lob it in my face and I’m bellowing “PUT
THAT DOWN BEFORE MUMMY GETS TO FIVE OR YOU WILL GO ON THE NAUGHTY STEP*!” he
knows that that is actually what will happen.
When Daisy is throwing herself to the floor at tea time because I gave
her “THE WRONG SPOON MUMMY”, she knows that if she isn’t up at the table by five,
she is on the naughty step. They know 100% what is expected of them, all the
time. Sure they butt against those
expectations – all the time, all the fucking time – but there’s only one set of
expectations to butt against.
2) It’s harder to make mum friends but those mum friends you
do make are fucking gold. Gold, I tell
you. It’s harder for a number of reasons
– I’m less confident because our set up is ‘different’, some mums are wankers**
and view you as a potential threat or just too different to them and sometimes
it’s just too fucking hard (either logistically or mentally) to even get out of
the house. But if you do manage, prizes
await, and those prizes are your worth-their-weight-in-gold mama friends. I have friends who I knew before I was up the
duff, friends who were neighbours, friends who are neighbours, friends who I
met in the park, friends who I met through the amazing Gingerbread
charity. The one thing they all have on
common is they have been unfazed by my lone wolf mamaness. They are all worth so much more than their
weight in gold and I love them. I don’t think I would have invested so much
energy into these friendships if I’d had a partner. So, I don’t have a partner, but I do have
friends that would drop everything and be there for me. If you’re a lone wolf mama friend, pat
yourself on the back. You’ve passed
rigorous anti-wanker testing and you’re providing an essential service. We are grateful.
3) The love. I hate
to sound selfish, but it’s all mine! They love me above and beyond anything or
anyone else (except maybe Peppa and Mister Maker – I’ll take that ranking!) Being
a mum is often billed as a giving thing – and it is. You give your all, your everything, your very
soul along with your basic hygiene and your sanity, in raising them. But they give it back. And when you’re a lone wolf, you are the sole
receiver of that love. It’s pretty
fucking amazing. Sometimes that love is
a bit too brutal (Daisy: “I don’t really like you.” Today, when I told her she
couldn’t have any more bubbles) but sometimes it’s just heart exploding (Zach: “Mummy,
I love you. Really really love you.” Today, when he went for his second shit
during Toddler Twist.) My boy likes to keep his declarations of love real.
Love, they say, is what makes the world go round, and if you’re a lone wolf,
you have it in abundance.
4) The pride. When it’s
just me and the kids, they are challenging***. They shout at me, they fight,
they ignore me, they piss in the play house (Zachary) and they tell tales about
every fucking thing that happens (Daisy) and they drive me fucking loop the
loop nuts. In short, there's a lot of counting to five. But. But, when we go out, and when they are not
with me, they are a delight. They are
kind, they share, they are polite, they do as they are asked, they are funny. Strangers coo over how lovely they are and
friends and family who look after them tell me how easy they are. And my heart bursts with pride. I’ve done that. I’ve fucking done that, all by myself. #proud
*I’m well aware the naughty step is not currently
fashionable. Don’t give two shits. I’ve never been fashionable. It works for us.
**Yep, I just called a select few of other mums
wankers. They are.
***Unremitting shitbags.
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