“I promise to be the mother I always wanted. I will put my child’s needs before my own. I will not parade a string of shitty dads through my child’s life. I will hold in safe keeping his emotional well-being and protect his little heart with my life.”

Wish us all good luck. It’s probably impossible to not fuck our kids up in some way, shape or form. That goes for two-parent families as well. Most people, even healthy happy people, have at least one weird hang-up from their parents.

My 2½ year old son may grow up without his father, and quite probably he will suffer for that. I this case he is also growing up without a drug addicted, sometimes violent, barely lucid wannabe red-neck. Which makes it ever so slightly less difficult for me to sleep at night in that regard.

It’s my job to do damage control while recovering from an abusive relationship and working full time to support our micro family and cover childcare expenses with no outside financial assistance from the father.

Yay me. I’m not stressed out. No really. If I keep saying it to myself it will come true. It will. I can prove it.

So, yes, I expect that there will be moments when I’m not an A+ paragon of maternal perfection. But I also expect to learn from my mistakes, pick up the pieces and show my boy that when shit hits the fan you’re only real option is to clean the shit off the walls and move on.