Biscuits Cure Problems

I look into beautiful eyes as my boy summons me from my sleep. Remembering why my life has changed is hard, but I find strength as Diego smiles at me. “You will make it through today mummy,” he seems to be trying to tell me.

It is my first month as a single parent. I’m adapting, changing, and I’m fighting. But I’m also screaming, sulking and losing my mind. I wave at D across the room and in response I hear a noise. I wish I hadn’t. It is all too obvious that it is time to change his nappy. And to run a bath. And to assemble my guardian angel for the day. Possible all at the same time. Let there be no teething! I cross my fingers tightly behind my back.

Of course, quite predictably, there is teething. I peer at tiny sore gums that gel, medicine and teething rings won’t cure. Miraculously however, a biscuit from great-grandma will. Cue the roll of the eyes as I give up on his organic-healthy-no-biscuits-diet.

I had never imagined life as a single parent. It was the last thing I ever would have expected. It is lonely, hard and tiring but it is also the most rewarding job I could ever do. Watching my son’s face light up, watching everything new that he learns and seeing him grow is unbeatable. As I write my latest column he has climbed into and sat himself inside the bottom of my wardrobe, something he has never done before. His giggle has just made me wary. Very wary. I wonder which one of my dresses he is cunningly trying to demolish…

I join in and grab myself a biscuit. Why not? Everyone else is.

Times are tough but the heart is tougher.

Boneata Bell


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