I've been married for 15 years, but I've spent many of those alone. My husband, Dustin, is in the military, which means he's committed to me and Uncle Sam (though not necessarily in that order). I had mostly grown used to Dustin's here-this-week/deployed-the-next routine, but in 2011, he left for his longest deployment yet: 13 months. Our boys were 4, 9 and 11 years old, and by the time Dustin came back, he had missed seven family birthdays, two Thanksgivings, one Christmas, our anniversary, countless Little League games and our youngest son's first day of kindergarten. On paper, I had a partner in parenting. In practice, however, I was parenting alone, and it wasn't easy. Indeed, that year gave me greater appreciation for what real single parents must go through every day. 1. Single parents can't be in two places at once. Seems obvious, right? Not to a 4-year-old. Even when I tried to split my time between ball games, I always missed someone's great hit or catch. Plus, after years of telling my kids not to get in the car with strangers ("not even parents of friends who seem familiar but are basically strangers"), I was suddenly coordinating rides home for my boys with people I barely knew. Out of desperation, I had to weigh the options: leave my son sitting in an empty parking lot for 20 minutes while I crossed town again after getting his brother? Or let him ride home with a teammate's parent I didn't really know that well? Eventually, I took the whole "it takes a village" concept quite literally (see #5). 2. Single parents have no relief pitcher. At 5:00 -- the well-known "witching hour" for young children -- when I was tired from work and the pantry was bare, there was no one to help me divide and conquer. Even when I had a fever or a migraine, I was the only one responsible for keeping three children alive (easy) and well-adjusted (difficult). I wanted a relief pitcher who didn't cost $10 per hour. I wanted to not carry 100 percent of the load 100 percent of the time. I wanted someone to say, "I've got this; you can take the bench for a while." 3. Single parents can't be "good cop" and "bad cop" at the same time. My breaking point came during a baseball game. Owen, 10, was sulking on the field, and teammates had yelled at him. My instinct was to run out to right field and hug him, to tell him he's #1 in my book. Then I thought about my husband. "Get your head in the game," he would have shouted from the bleachers. Or, "There's no sulking in baseball!" Later, I felt like I had two heads as I tried to play both roles for Owen: "You're the best, honey... when you're not whining on the baseball field." 4. Single parents eat alone sometimes. There are many lonely people at dinnertime. Some of those lonely people are single parents. Think about it: when the kids are at camp or sleeping at a friend's house, we married people delight in a kid-free night with our spouse. But when my husband was gone and the kids were away, too, the house was uncomfortably quiet as I ate my dinner alone. The kids, I realized, were my comfort and company, and that brought its own set of problems: should the kids be my comfort and company? I decided the answer was no, and I learned to be by myself -- much more difficult than it seems after 15 years of being someone's wife or mom 24/7. Single parents must have an excellent sense of self! (You can read about more ways we filled the empty place at the dinner table here.) 5. Single parents might want your help. It's hard to ask for help. Everyone has challenges, and everyone feels tired and stressed. So I often wondered, "Why should anyone help me?" It seemed silly and insignificant to ask for help getting one boy to practice or another to a game. I mean, other people have realproblems, right? (And maybe, from other people's perspectives, it seemed silly and insignificant to offer help with these things.) But when anyone did ask, "Can I help you with _____?" and I accepted, it felt like a gift for both of us, but mostly for the children, because our community had just gotten bigger. |
我结婚15年了,但大多数时间里我都是独自一人。我丈夫达斯汀在军队,这意味着他不仅与我立下婚誓共度此生,也立誓为山姆大叔尽职效力。 达斯汀的工作使他常常只在家待上一周,接着就要接受军队部署,我也几乎习惯了他这样不安定的工作状态。然而在2011年时,达斯汀离家的时间长达前所未有的13个月。那时我们的三个儿子分别是四岁,九岁和十一岁,等到达斯汀回家时,他便已经错过七次家庭成员的生日,两个感恩节,一个圣诞节,以及我们的结婚纪念日,数不清的少年棒球联盟的比赛,还有我们最小的儿子第一天上幼儿园的日子。 在养育孩子方面,理论上来说我拥有合作的伴侣,但事实上,只有我一个,而这实属不易。的确,达斯汀不在的那一年让我由衷感受到了一个真正的单亲家长每天所必须经历的事。 1.单亲家长难以分身两地 很明显的道理,对吧?但对于四岁的孩子来说并非如此。 即使我在孩子们的球赛过程中尽力去关注每一个时刻,我还是常常错过他们中某一个的精彩击打和接球瞬间。此外,在我叮嘱了孩子们好多年不要乘坐陌生人(包括他们朋友们的家长,虽然见过,但其实不熟)的车之后,我突然间不得不安排他们坐那些我几乎不认识的人的车回家。我毫无办法,只能权衡再三做出选择:是让我的孩子坐在空荡荡的的停车场二十分钟,等着我驾车穿过市区去接另一个回来,还是让他坐队友父母的车回家,尽管我对对方还不是很了解? 最终,我全然接受了“举全村之力,养一个孩子”的观念。(见第5点) 2. 单亲家长没有替补投手 在5点,小孩子们众所周知的“魔力小时”,我工作到筋疲力竭,家里的食物已经吃光,却没有谁能帮我一把。即使我发烧或者偏头痛,我也是这个家里唯一一个去负责让三个孩子活着并且得到精心照料的人。(前者简单,后者则很难) 我希望能有一个像棒球赛场上的替补投手那样的人来帮我,不用每小时10美元的高额佣金。我希望不用每时每刻承担百分之百的负荷,有让我喘息的时间。我希望有人来对我说:“这里我来就好,你去坐下休息一会儿。” 3.单亲家长无法同时成为“好警察”和“坏警察” 一场棒球比赛挑战了我的极限。我十岁的儿子欧文在赛场上闷闷不乐,他的队友们朝他大喊大叫。我的本能驱使我要马上冲进赛场上抱住他,告诉他在我心里他是最棒的。然后我就想起了我的丈夫。 “用心打你的比赛!” 他会在看台上这样喊道。或是,“打棒球可不准闹脾气!” 于是我感觉自己好像有了两种思想,我尽力去为欧文同时扮演不同的角色,告诉他:“宝贝,你是最棒的……但除非你不在赛场上哭泣。” 4.单亲家长有时独自吃饭 吃饭时间会有许多人孤身一人,其中一部分就是单亲家长。 试想一下,当孩子去学校或是在朋友家过夜时,做父母的就能够与伴侣享受愉快的二人世界。然而对我来说,丈夫和孩子们都不在时,我一个人吃饭,家中出奇地静,让我不安。 我意识到,孩子们就是我的慰藉与陪伴,而这又引出这个结论本身的一个问题:我应该把孩子们当做我的慰藉和陪伴吗? 不,我想我不该这样,而是学会了做我自己——在做了15年别人的妻子或者母亲之后,要学会这一点其实不容易。单身家长们必须具备明确的自我意识。 5.单亲家长也许需要你的帮助 请求帮忙不容易。每个人都有难处,都会感到疲倦和压力。因此我常想:“为什么非要有人来帮助我呢?” 请求某人来帮忙送孩子去训练或者比赛这种事情显得有些愚蠢且毫无意义。我是说,其他人也有重要的事要忙吧?(并且,也许从他们的角度来说,为了这些事情提供帮助也同样不值得。) 但是当某人真正问起:“是否需要我帮你……?” 然后我欣然接受时,那感觉就好像我们彼此都得到了一份馈赠,但受益最多的还是孩子们,因为正是如此,我们举众人之力来养育孩子的力量又更加壮大了。 (译者 planemo 编辑 丹妮) |