I am a proud person. I am proud in many different areas, but most of my pride lies in the ability to take care of my children on my own. I provide food, shelter, clothing, and many other amenities, both tangible and intangible, to make their lives happy and stable. I have found myself in positions lately where I ask myself, "Why don't you just ask for help?"
We lead a very busy life, full of homework, football practices/games, dance, gymnastics, church, and quality family time, not necessarily in that order. I am one person, and I joke about being not only a full-time mommy and paralegal, but I also volunteer my services as a taxi driver, short-order cook, cheerleader, and maid. Again, not necessarily in that order. Most days while we are running ninety-to-nothing, one small kink in our schedule could send our whole world spinning. You see, although I have become a great planner, I am far from an expert in that area, and very rarely have any kind of "plan b". The necessary "plan b" formation was reminded to me when the sweet friend of mine, who takes K to practice Monday nights while I take B to dance, came down with the crud. Although most mommies are super-heroes, we have yet to perfect the ability to be two places at one time, and, therefore, we had run into a big problem. I had finally figured out that I could drop B off, run K across town, drop him off, grab their dinner, and be back to watch some of B's rehearsal before it was over when I realized "it". Stop it, crazy lady. There is no point in running yourself crazy, all the while missing big chunks of memories of dance and football, not to mention the gas guzzling involved, when you could just reach out and ask for help. I am so blessed to have plenty of family and friends in town. The worst that could happen is they would be unavailable and I would have to revert to my "crazy lady dash" as soon as my "paying job" commenced. It all worked out just fine. A wonderful team mom of K's football team was able to give him a ride to practice, and I was able to enjoy most of both activities that night.
Bottom line, it helps to ask for help. That does not mean I am a weak person or less of a mom. It simply means I am trying to be the best mom I can be, but I know when to admit I can't do it on my own. Having the extra help even allowed time for B and I to drop dinner off at a fellow single mommy friend's house (the one with the crud) on the way to K's practice. She, like me, was trying to be invisible and cook for her little family while feeling like poo. I reminded her, which reminded myself, it is okay to reach out, admit you are one person, and ask for help. There is no shame in a helping hand. Us single mommies have to stick together :)
Does anyone else have this problem???