Hi! I’m Jen, the married single mama of this site. Most people would eye roll over me saying ‘married single mama’, go right ahead, I don’t care. I have a husband, he’s amazing (he drives me crazy most of the time, but he’s pretty amazing) and we’ve been together for 7 years, married for 6 and have known each other for 10+ years. We have a 5 year old boy (turning 6 in April) and a 2 year old daughter (she thinks she’s 5 too).
I have an extremely short attention span, so fingers crossed that I can actually stick with this blog. (Insert two year old trying to do a flip off the bed here)
Back to the amazing husband. And why I refer to myself as a married single mama. Adam is a chef, for a very large resort property here in Southern California, he’s typically gone by 7am and isn’t home until 8pm/9pm and sometimes 10pm. This is not a set schedule. Most of the time it’s 5 days a week, but it does happen that it’s 6 days a week. His days off aren’t always consecutive, and they’re rarely ever on the weekend. He works his ass off (not literally because it’s actually grown with how much walking and stairs he does at work) for me to be able to be a stay at home mom and raise my two kiddos to be respectable human beings and not add to the asshole population of today’s world.
Even when he is home, he is constantly attending to emails or texts regarding work, it makes it really hard to be me. The kids view me as their one and only lifeline, it’s “mom I need a drink”, “mom I need a snack”, “mom I need my butt wiped”, “mom my nipple hurts”, the list could go on forever, and happens when I leave them in the room with their dad so I can go pee in peace, or put laundry away without the toddler pulling it all back out of the drawers, or god forbid take a bubble bath. I literally want to scream at the top of my lungs “GO ASK YOUR DAD!!” Which sometimes I do, I’m not going to lie, not at the top of my lungs, but I do lose my shit occasionally. Especially when Adam will be standing in the kitchen and they come to me on the next floor up (or worse, YELL from the floor where the kitchen is) saying they want a snack or drink. It makes me want to march down there hold their eyes open and be like “LOOK, DAD IS RIGHT HERE NEXT TO THE PANTRY AND THE FRIDGE AND HE WILL PROBABLY GIVE YOU SOMETHING LESS HEALTHY THAN I WOULD!”
Sadly this is all time I have to write today, actually have to go fully do the mom thing because I keep getting princesses thrown at me after she rips their clothes off and wants them back on, also should stop her from hitting her brother because he’s pretending Optimus prime is peeing in her castle.
Toodles for now!
Xo, Married Single Mama