The working title for this started off as why single mums shout so much, but then I realised other single mums have it more together than me and don’t necessarily shout like someone possessed. Perhaps not all of us are more stressed than the average mum either, and apologies if you’re sitting there thinking, I’m a solo mama and I’m zen AF. It seems though that there is a little truth in the stereotype of the quick to anger single mum. I should know I fulfil that stereotype almost everyday. I wanted to think about why that’s the case though. What is it that makes some single mums feel constantly close to the edge?
It’s really quite simple. The responsibility to freedom ratio is all screwed.
Freedom appears to be what we all ultimately want, freedom to choose how we live and freedom to do what we want. Most of us crave it as we are growing up, but with it comes responsibility. As a child your responsibilities don’t extend much beyond getting dressed in the morning, while your freedom rarely stretches beyond being allowed to ride round the block. Although it might be frustrating to have such little freedom, at least it’s in sync with your responsibilities.
As you become a teen your freedom increases a little (or more, depending on your parents), but the responsibilities are often still limited. As we get older the freedoms continue to increase, but now so do the responsibilities. As an adult we are our own person, making our own choices and we have the responsibility to ourselves to make positive choices. So whilst we can do whatever we like with our hard earned cash, paying the rent on time is probably a pretty good choice unless we want to sleep on the streets.
Once children are bought into the equation though the whole balance shifts entirely. Your freedom is suddenly curtailed, whilst your responsibilities are massively increased. Even more of a struggle is the fact that your responsibilities now encompass another human being!
If you’re in a couple then on the whole you’ll share those responsibilities, not necessarily each one individually, but the overall load – the childcare, child rearing, DIY, bill payments, housework, etc, etc. Your freedom will be significantly curtailed (often more so the mother than the father*), but through communication and planning, there is still some freedom to be had. It’s how society has been designed for many generations and whilst it’s hard going, the two sides of the ratio generally operate in tandem and (eventually) people find a workable balance between them**.
Here’s where we come to the worse freedom:responsibility ratio of them all though. The single parent with young children.
The responsibilities lie entirely on YOU. There’s no-one else to share them with. Not one nappy change, or a single penny towards the heating bill. Meanwhile the freedoms almost disappear, giving you no reprieve from those responsibilities. Some freedoms are pretty much gone entirely – a solo holiday, a weekend away. Others are few and far between – a night out, studying that course you really want to do, even a phone call or an hour to watch adult TV is a struggle.
The freedoms you dream of clash with the responsibilities you have. How will you pay the bills if you prioritise that night out? How will the baby cope if you disappear for the weekend? How will you get up in the morning if you stay up tonight?
Of course some single mums manage the balance better than others. Factors like cash flow, friends and family who support us, all help to balance out that ratio a little more reasonably. But those others aren’t RESPONSIBLE for our small people. Friends, relatives and paid childcarers can give us a chance to experience that long lost taste of freedom. What they cannot do is take away the burden of responsibility.
And herein lies the problem. The brain is not made to manage such levels of responsibility alone. Did you know that our working memory can only retain seven pieces of information? Seven. I know all you solo mamas with brains overflowing are currently thinking more like seven hundred, but its actually true.
Take this second for instance, what are the seven things in the forefront of my mind? 1) working out what’s in my mind, 2) remember A has to do some homework tonight, 3) sort his scooter so I can take him to after school activities – can he use his scooter without a brake? Is that safe? Or can I mend that bigger one? Will he fit it? 4) bid on that bike on shpock for him too, 5) don’t forget (again!) to put up the shoe box on the wall, 6) get the room ready for the next air b n b guest, 7) sort dinner cause we will be late home.
But unfortunately my brain doesn’t stop there…
8) chase the union about the legal advice I’m awaiting, 9) check my bank balance to make sure there’s enough for the mortgage next month. God I really hope that cheque comes through soon that I was relying on. If I don’t spend anything on my card then tax credits, plus child benefit, plus that air b n b pay out should cover me for all the bills leaving at the beginning of next month, then I’ll need to sort next month, 10) sort that paperwork work need, 11) shit, I need to leave now or I’ll be late for counselling.
To be fair, today my brain doesn’t feel like it’s going to explode. Today’s list is manageable. Often the list doesn’t feel manageable though. Even on ‘manageable’ days it’s a fine line between manageable and stressed because that magic limit of seven is constantly being pushed. Despite being the largest, most complex organ in my body, my brain cannot cope with even one more thing being added to its working memory – it’s immediate to do task list if you will. As soon as something tries to edge its way in, there’s an immediate, visceral reaction. My brain knows that coping with this new task means something else is knocked out. It’s anyone’s guess what the impact of that will be. Will I miss a mortgage payment? Have to deal with hunger tantrums this evening when there’s no food to eat. Who knows? I don’t, because in that second, I can’t remember what just got relegated from my mind.
And so, when my son starts messing about. I can’t handle it. If his behaviour suddenly requires additional management and support from me I don’t have the space in my brain to accept this new task that my responsibilities require of me. I struggle to keep a hold on all of these other thoughts in my brain and the monster tends to unleash. I stress. Ergo, I shout.
To those around me it can seem like shouty mum appears in a split second. Yet whatever is evident to the public eye is merely the tip of an ever expanding iceberg of responsibilities beneath the surface, whilst the opportunities for freedom are melting faster than the polar icecap.
I don’t know what the answer is. But I do know that I’m not alone in feeling this way. I see it everyday in myself and in other single mums. For now, I’m trying to grow my patience to be more in line with the level of responsibilities I find placed entirely in my head. I’m trying to take (and make) more opportunities for freedom to recharge my batteries so a better equilibrium between the two can be found. And until I find the solution to all this stress, I’m promising to lock myself in the bathroom more when I feel the stress begin to rise, at least that way I might manage to control the shouty mum more.
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*I’m not saying it should be this way, just appreciating that women often take on responsibilities like breastfeeding which a father cannot do. Also the way our society is structured and the expectations people have on themselves and partners, place a greater caring burden on the woman.
**I’m not suggesting this tandem is equal – perhaps the one leading the direction hardly bothers to pedal, or the one at the back just free rides most of the way. I know most women face an uneven distribution of the caring and emotional labour in most homes around the globe. But, I think it’s also fair to say that in most relationships both parties contribute something.
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