On Being a Single Parent

This one is close to home. I have longed for excellent books about being a single parent, and they are hard to find. Being a single parent has its challenges, and it also has its “lifts”. As Kyo Maclear says about the joy she experiences in watching a simple house finch: “I felt the lift of bird in me, which felt like the lift of wine, or the lift of an ascending elevator, or the lift of discovering that I did not prefer the book to the reality.” How many times have I watched the red of my son’s hair glow in the sunlight and felt that lift. And how many times too have I feared being swallowed up by the endless domestic work of my “specific ocean.” In that vein, and although I certainly do not prefer the book to the reality, here are 3 odes to both the ebb and flow of the single parent tides.

Raising You Alone
by Warren Hanson

I have not seen any other book as skillful as this one at dealing with the challenges of being a single parent. Whether you had a child on your own, a parent died, or you have a family dealing with parental abandonment or a wayward parent of any kind, this book speaks to all those situations. This book is beautifully written, but it is on the long side, and might be hard for very young children to tolerate. Sadly, this book is heterosexist and does emphasize the desire for two parents: “There was a dream that I once had of both a mom and dad to raise you as their own.” But this book does so many things and does them so well that I think it’s worth recommending anyway. It speaks to me so deeply. “That happy dream did not come true. But I am happy here with you, and now it looks like I’ll be raising you alone.” The bunnies are never gendered, no pink bow adorns the single parent bunny’s head, and actually one of my sons assumed that all the parents were boy bunnies, pointing to a page where both parent and child bunny are cuddled up watching tv, and asserting that “everyone know that dads watch tv with their kids”. This book speaks to the reality that the children of single parents are more likely to be in the care of others , that single parents can have higher levels of overwhelm, as well as to all the million things that single parents have to worry about: “There will be times when I am worried, or I’m crabby, or I’m tired. There will be times when we will make each other mad. I’ll holler, “I’m just trying to do my job!” You’ll holler, “Well, you’re fired!” It isn’t easy being both a mom and dad.” And yet, the warm prose remind the frustrated child of the less-tended single parent: “But I will be there when it matters – cross my heart, no matter what. If it’s important to be there, I’ll find a way.” This book also recognizes the time that comes for every child to turn towards others when they long for understanding, and gives the child its blessing: “But there are things you’ll want to talk about with someone else, not me. And that’s ok. I guess that what best friends are for.” And it ends heartwarmingly about the centrality of our children to all of us single parents, no matter who else comes on the scene: “It’s you and I who really matter. It’s this family that counts. We are the very best this world has ever known. And so, in spite of how we got here, it’s my pleasure to announce that we’re amazing! – though I’m raising you alone.” The rigid critic in me would reject this book for its imperfections, and yet, 20 years of therapy and some Brene Brown instead makes me so grateful to this book that for delving so deeply into what it means to be a single parent.

Selma
by Jutta Bauer

I love this book. I love this book sooo much. I bought it from Ev at Mother Tongue for those folks who remember our local and wonderful feminist bookstore which closed its doors too soon (thank you for your years of service to our community Ev and Laura). I bought it because Ev recommended it and whenever Laura or Ev recommended anything they were never wrong (Thich Nhat Han, Alison Bechdel’s Fun Home). Like so many of the books they recommended, it was lost on me initially, and it didn’t really speak to me until the pandemic. It features a dog who just can’t take it anymore (he’s pictured, but very backgrounded, with a glass of wine looking overwhelmed). He goes to consult the wise ram, and asks him: “What is happiness?” The wise ram tells him the story of Selma. Selma is a sheep (and seemingly a single mother), who, every morning at sunrise, eats a little grass. Then she plays with her children, after which she gets some exercise. Then she eats a little more grass. Then she has a little chat with her pal the vulture in the afternoon, before finally falling fast asleep. A journalist appears on the scene to ask her what she would do if she had more time. Into the microphone, she says”, well, I would eat a little grass at sunrise, play with my children until lunchtime, exercise in the afternoon, eat some more grass, have a little chat with Mrs. Miller in the evening, and finally fall fast asleep.” And if you won a million dollars Selma? Well, you guessed it. Selma explains she’d love to repeat the same routine. I don’t know why this book tickles my funny bone so much. But it offers such a positive spin on repetition! I understand that this degree of sameness is not for everyone, the pandemic has made it very difficult to have change in our days. And yet, there is some deep wisdom in Selma about parenting. There are so many times where I’ve been playing with my children, dying of boredom inside and watching the clock, while simultaneously already mourning that some day they will be grown up and won’t have time to play with me for hours. In this moment, where there is a lot of repetition and sameness, it feels so helpful to me to take in this book about the pleasures of routine. If this book makes you want to throw it out the window and shout: I didn’t even want to watch Groundhog Day the movie, totally cool too. I can accept it’s not for everyone.

I Sang You Down from the Stars
by Tasha Spillett-Summer, Illustrated by Michaela Goade

This book speaks to me deep in my heart as somebody who waiting and waited and hoped beyond all measure for a baby and who had a baby on my own.  It speaks to some Indigenous understandings of babies choosing their parents while refusing any kind of universalist claims about Indigeneity and baby-love. This books features only 1 parent (a mother), who appears to be a single parent.  As someone who originally had a baby on her own, I’ve never seen an book before that speaks to calling your baby to you.  This book is beautifully illustrated, and skillfully articulates some of the ways that we gather sacred objects and community to welcome babies into the world.  It also feels so special to have a book for all of us mothers who did not have romantic partners when we called our babies down from the stars, whether by choice or by chance (or by designation or by deadbeat, let’s be real, who cares). I feel so grateful to this one for existing for those of us families who do not fit 2-parent norms.

If you are looking for a book that talks about how hard so many single mothers have to work, and how they have to be away from their children too often, the award-winning book Saturday is also terrific. 

How do we learn to love what Kyo Maclear tells us farmer-poet Wendell Berry calls our “homeplace.” How do we manage our longing for the families we don’t have while at the same time relishing the families we are in? Wendell Berry’s advice is to “stop somewhere. . . . and being the thousand-year-long process of knowing that place.” If those thousand years feel like they happening in a single morning between the hours of 6am and 10am, these books may help you through.