Anti-stereotypical

This was originally on my other blog, but I've moved it, because this is where it belongs, and I'm all for organization:

I won't sugar-coat it for you: being a student and a single mom is tough. Frankly, at times it tends to just plain suck. Your life can feel completely regimented, and like the spontaneity of the collegiate experience is passing you by. You can never just jaunt off to a party at last-minute's notice. You can't swing by the bar on your way home from a Friday night date. Evening meetings are a no-no, and sick days are never possible. Your image of yourself as an up-and-coming next-generation-er are tarnished by the fact that you carry wipes, diapers, and Cheerios wherever you go. You never seem to have a conversation that is 100% focused on the person you are speaking with (because your son has turned your chic pad into a gymnasium), and the amount of sleep you get could be considered cruel and unusual punishment.

The inconveniences are compounded when you do everything by yourself. Now, don't get me wrong, I have a very supportive family who is never slow to offer assistance. But the daily disciplines and trials can be hard to bear, and I sometimes wish I had someone here to at least suffer alongside! I constantly worry about whether my son will have "daddy" issues when he grows up, whether I am spending enough time with him, whether he has strong male influences in his life, whether I am spoiling him with just one set of disciplinary tactics, whether he will resent me for being in school while he is small. The worries and loads can be incredibly tiring, and sometimes I find myself wallowing in self-pity and depression.

But then I am swiftly snapped back to reality and sanity by the spontaneous kiss from a child who thinks I am the end-all and be-all, who calls only for me when he wakes up in the middle of the night. By the never-ending party that is life with a small child: laughter, spills, games and fun. By the realization that I would rather be at home, reading a good book and listening to my son sing himself to sleep, than at a crowded movie theater, spending $8 for a movie I will forget in a month. I will be able to raise a son with a less idealized and more realistic image of women, and the world will have one more man who is comfortable around women and who respects them as equals. And the one thing that always humbles me and brings me back to the light that is my existence, is the realization that mine is the only life I would ever choose. And I would choose it for the Cheerios, the live-in gym, and the sweet, sweet scent of a sleeping child.