I don't think much about being a single mother in a large philosophical way. Mostly in a practical sort of way. Like, tonight LG had a thing at school that ended at 7:30 and her friend's mom graciously offered to bring her home so I didn't have to keep Tiny Boy out that late. (No, that's not essentially an SMC problem but it's a problem I have because I'm an SMC to two kids of very different ages)
But a few weeks ago she was invited to go to the daddy-daughter valentine's dance with her friend and the friend's dad. I wasn't really angsty about this, or wistful, because really I don't get sappy about some idealized notion of family in which there might have been some daddy figure (if I have a longing, it's for occasional practical help. and maybe occasional sex). But it did occur to me that it might meet some need of LG's. Or it might even make her sad and wistful.
She wasn't. She went and mostly hung out with her friend and ate pizza and too many treats and put on sparkly tights and traded shoes like the prepubescent girl that she is.
I'm glad.
But a few weeks ago she was invited to go to the daddy-daughter valentine's dance with her friend and the friend's dad. I wasn't really angsty about this, or wistful, because really I don't get sappy about some idealized notion of family in which there might have been some daddy figure (if I have a longing, it's for occasional practical help. and maybe occasional sex). But it did occur to me that it might meet some need of LG's. Or it might even make her sad and wistful.
She wasn't. She went and mostly hung out with her friend and ate pizza and too many treats and put on sparkly tights and traded shoes like the prepubescent girl that she is.
I'm glad.
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