This post was written by Mikia, single mom of 3 under 7. Read more from her in her previous post HERE. We asked her one question: Would you ever choose to clone yourself? You would expect she would want to have extra hands around. But when asked, her answer was surprising and heartwarming.
Would you ever choose to clone yourself?
Having three boys close in age is a beautiful gift and I don’t take it for granted. You know what I do take for granted though? The fact that those three beautiful boys are different unique creatures who, though they shared a uterus, do not share a brain.
This has become more of a struggle as I’ve ventured into the terrifying land of single parenting. My oldest is all me. We identify with each other. I see his epic meltdowns and constant crises as a mirror reflection of me at 6. And though my mom doesn’t remember (has blocked out) those days, I remember. This little emotionally fragile human being is all my creation. But he’s also strong. He’s the man of the house and he tells me so daily. And we click. We ride dirt bikes together and meet back at camp. “Mom, did you see my jump?? I was going so fast!” “Yeah buddy, you were awesome! Did you see mommy almost fall? I’m getting better though, right?” This child.
But this child. He only makes up a third of my soul. Because my 5 year old. His positive attitude and constant smile carry me through absolutely horrendous days. He hasn’t ever figured out how to pout and so he sticks out his top lip instead of his bottom lip when he’s grumpy, which is hysterical because it’s absolutely the kind of thing I would have done at his age. And his little inquisitive mind… it never stops. “Why was Mawlin looking for Nemo? Why was Dowi crying? Why did they go over the twench, not thwough it? Why does Dowi have showt-tewm memowy loss?” And I want to answer him. And I want to spend sunny Saturday afternoons sitting on the couch finding deeper meaning in Nemo with him.
And there’s the baby. His personality hasn’t quite developed yet to the point of differentiation between demon and darling. And he doesn’t want to watch Nemo. Because the shark is scary. And he doesn’t want to ride dirt bikes. Well, actually he does. But that would just be irresponsible parenting. So what’s a mom to do but sit for hours on end ramming toy trains into one another, met with irresistible shrieks of delight.
I am only me. And I can’t be all things to three little people at the same time. My attention is divided, as are the pieces of my soul. If I could clone myself, on a sunny Saturday afternoon, you’d see a happy, relaxed mom playing “choo-choos” on the coffee table. And she’d be answering her billionth Nemo question with a smile on her face and not the least bit of irritation on her face. And she’d be at the race track cheering with delight because her son just beat that bratty little boy on the Kawasaki.
None of these women would feel the pull to be somewhere else. To be someone else.
Love this, Mikia. XOXO