"Deadbeat Mom"

I woke up this morning to a HORRIBLE dream and even though I had many thoughts yesterday about what my blog post would be about today, I am going to touch on my dream.
When I was a little girl people used to ask me, what do you want to be when you grow up? My answer was always, I want to be a mommy. My baby dolls were so well loved that their hair fell out and their eyes stopped blinking. All I ever wanted to do was give all of my love to someone else, unconditionally. When I found out I was pregnant with my daughter, my life changed. Because of my situation, I was scared to death, but deep down I knew I could handle things. When I first held her and looked into her big brown eyes, she stole my heart away. Two years later, when I thought I couldn't ever love anyone as much as I loved her, her brother stole my heart again.
My children's father has always been a thorn in my side, even when we were together. No matter what I did, it was never good enough. I worked all day, came home, took care of the kids, cleaned the house, and still, I felt as though it was never enough. For the first two years of my daughter's life, I was her constant. The only person that she knew she could count on was me. When she went to sleep at night and woke up in the morning, mommy was there. I took her to daycare, I taught her how to swing, enrolled her in soccer. She and I were inseparable.
Then, my son was born and I had to go back to work when he was nine days old because his father was unemployed and I had a job offer. I couldn't depend on him at the time so I had to take what opportunities I could. Ever since the day that I went back to work, I have felt in my heart that I abandoned my son. It's not even a rational, reasonable feeling or thought because I was home every night to take care of him and by working I was trying to provide for both of my children.
Yes, I've made mistakes. I haven't always put them first even though I should have. I've done things that I'm not proud of and when they get older and I have to explain why things happened the way they did, I still won't be proud of my actions. But I've learned, I've grown and I have realized that they come first before anything or anyone. I want what is best for my children. That is why I left their father. I barely had enough money in my pocket to feed myself. I moved close to work, and far from their dad. I didn't have more than a cat piss recliner and an old glider chair in my living room. I thank the lord for the generosity of my coworkers because without them, I wouldn't have had dishes, a tv, or towels. I'm finally at a point where things are starting to fall together.
So of course, something has to shake everything out of place. My daughter starts school in the fall. Her father and I live on opposite sides of town. He has the kids Monday through Thursday and I have them Thursday night through Monday morning. Their daycare is next to his house because I had put them in there when I still lived with him. He insists they go to school near his house and I refuse. I want what is best for my children and I don't believe that only seeing their mother Saturday and Sunday is what is best. I believe that this argument is what led me to dream that everyone thought I was a, and I quote, "deadbeat mom".
I woke up crying from this horrific dream because I've seen deadbeat moms. I'm NOT a deadbeat mom. Ok, so I don't have the money to be able to afford to drive forty five minutes one way to drop them at daycare in the morning and forty five minutes the other way back to work. I have to see them on the weekends and I don't feel included in their lives because I can't get out of work to accompany them on field trips. I don't have the extra cash to enroll them in dance class or sports. I can't buy them new clothes so I rely on hand me downs. We don't go out to fancy dinners and we don't eat ice cream every night.
Yet, I listen when my four year old daughter tells me about her friends being mean to her and work on building her self esteem. I listen to my two year old son trying to stutter out a joke and then I laugh uncontrollably because what he said was the most hilarious thing I've ever heard. I straighten my daughter's hair and put it in THREE ponytails just like she asked, not two and tell her how beautiful she is. I cuddle with my son and watch the Santa Claus movie even though it's April because that's the only thing he wants to see and encourage him to always be himself, like what he likes, no matter how socially unacceptable it seems. I dance with my daughter and listen when she yells at me to "dance like me mommy!" (I even get good dance tips). I help my son learn how to make snowballs, duck when one's thrown at him, and throw one back (we only hit shoulders down). We laugh, we cry, we comfort each other. I wouldn't trade a moment and I feel that these are the qualities that make me a good mother, not the things I buy or the field trips I can attend.
I'll always carry this feeling in my heart that I'm not doing everything I can for my kids. But even writing this blog has helped me realize that I'm far more involved and there for them than I thought. No matter how guilty anyone tries to make me for choosing to be a single working mom, I know it's what was best for them. One day, my daughter will look to me and see the strong woman that I want her to be, not a beaten, defeated shell of a woman that I used to be. And my son will see a woman who refused to be treated like a doormat and punching bag and learn how to treat a woman with respect and love. If that's all I can teach them about life, then I believe I will have succeeded as a mother.