Updated: Jul 3, 2019
A single mother's guide to staying an artist without any help...
Everyday I think of all the things mother's do. I thought yesterday how I wish I gave more support to the health professional at my GYN because she misses her son, but went back to work after a year. I feel for her and I see her heartstrings creating a meloncoly melody, yet perched on the shelf to be a fine looking harp that makes no sound, but these things are real. They represent our whole society. Our society does not help! It has set up hurdles for us everywhere. Even for us who are not parents. Society put a big push on work and not our health. I know another mom working as much as she can now with a cast on her arm from nerve damage surgery and she works in the health field. No emphasis on our stress and strain of our bodies and minds.
I thought of my mother who after many failed marriages but two lovely human beings created out of those, She choose to work the night shift at Western Union, She put herself through business school and learned a trade. This meant we had to go to some nasty daycare afterschool where I was the oldest child there..while everyone was doing naptime I was like a field pyschologist talking to some of the children there and one little person whether it was a lie or not was telling me a pretty violent story about her parents, when I sitter came by and said what are you talking about now..I don't know, but I don't think these places are the best most loving places for children. Once my mom got her training done after a year or two, not that we got to see our mother much anyway other than wake up breakfast was always one bowl of cereal with a tsp. of sugar on it, that was all my mom could afford and she did not want us addicted to sugar like our cousins who were a bit overweight and put a half cup of sugar in their cereal if mom only knew giving us eggs or peanut butter toast could have been better, back than all our bread was the cotton white bread that could double as cotton to clean out your ears as you rolled it into a ball.
My mother did get a job. She was working the night shift at Western Union, and I think almost everynight even the weekends. I do not remember my mom doing weekend fun things with us only going to church on sundays, So I am guessing she worked saturdays. My younger sibling went to her father's every other weekend so I was alone quite a bit. My mother would get us from our proprial school, with the job and a scholarship we stopped going to public school. She would ride us to school in the morning and she would pick us up after school. It seems to my memory we shared between the three of us a tin can of campbells tomatoe soup watered down around 330pm and maybe a sandwich. That was it, my mom was not getting extra assistance and that was all she could afford. She was like a food pirate. The refridgerator was on lock down, if she could have had a lock on it than she would of..it was her treasure chest. She knew all the secrets it help from every piece of celery to how many ounces of milk. We or me were not allowed to touch that treasure chest or I would surely walk the plank! I remember we did not have seconds after a meal my mom really thought that was enough food as she slipped into her heels and said good bye locked the door and we were not allowed to go out and play on our beautiful swing set or use or backyard. Yes my mom locked down a house, three bedrooms, a yard, her own car, but it felt like we were ghosts that lived there an after thought. Now I am not saying this to be down on my mom, believe me I am still doing therapy on this, but it was not her fault it is society's. My mom dreamed in high school of being a dress designer. That dream did not come true because she was told by her counselor, she could be a secretary or a mom but that kinda dream was not for her to have..this discouraged my mother and though one of the few children and only girl to get her high school diploma she left feeling the only thing she could do was get married and than have me. I would not have dreamed of having a child so close to being nineteen or pregnant. My mother raised us to get our education first and that meant higher education, than get a job that we loved and than get married and have children..another dream created by society from alot of fallen angels...That dream look like it was coming true for me I finished high school but after three different high schools which is only a four year process it was hard to keep up from moving and relocating and really no friendships. I really got into physical stuff I had left my old highschool in the south running. I needed to run because I was glad my mom remarried and it meant I no longer had to play mom and husband to my sibling and mother, but i was angry at the years I lost and feeling neglected of getting fresh air and trapped in a house 24/7 or some building unless it was the summer time and i was staying with relatives out in the country, really sometimes i wandered why my mother was a parent cause she did not get to parent me, my aunts my uncles the schools and myself! Now she trying to go back to that role and be a partner to someone. So I started running on the track almost everyday that was in our backyard or near it. It was freedom that and my bike. My step parent and my mom traveled alot and took us with them selling merchandise again trapped inside...so I craved freedom and to this day that is why I do not own a car. I decided on my own back than I was not going to give into society on this one...THE CAR... I decided my body would be strong where my mom is strong I know she did not eat well and was weak. I practiced running with the boys back when it was not coed, I wanted to go to boot camp before that was even a cool thing for mom's and women to join. I did the opposite of my mom. I designed obstacle course for the football team and I to go through. I did push-ups, sit -ups, jumped through old tires, climbed bars and than ran. I was not fast but I had enough fury in me to light the place on fire and I needed to keep warmer in this new northern climate. Today I do not drive I left the keys in the ignition fourteen years ago. Parked in a car garage parking lot waiting for the scrap guy to hand me fifty dollars and than I walked away. I never wanted it...I wanted to be free. The car broke down as it had before the worst co-dependent relationship I ever had, bleeding me dry of my income. It stopped on a way to my son's friend's home we were going to go swimming there and it was hot...as it gets here in the adiranck like climate. So we had to walk up hills and when we got there I called AAA and my son got to stay and go swimming and I watched them take the car away. A small red car that transported my son and I around for years since he was little. His grandparents paid for the car, especially helpful since my son was a baby model and I would drive him down to see his grandparents in new jersey and take him for his shoot. I also started a baby toddler class modeled after the music together events but called Mini Modern Artists, the car worked as a tool box carrying the watercolor paper, and homemade paints of berries and other organic orgins and my small child that even though his dad was at home to take care of ..would not so almost like a single parent with no sitters, no grandparents or relatives near by he was part of my entrpreneurship. It is a struggle doubling up your patients as a parent and a teacher on the spot, I felt a bit like my mom seeing the counselor the world was stacked against me. However with a screaming child in tow, i got such a thrill out of having my own business and leading my classes. Parents still come to me today and thank me and telling me how much fun the classes were and how they have their children's paintings up in their living room, dens or office.
Than when his dad and I split