You’re a single parent – which affects the entire landscape of your life.  Parenting is challenging enough when shared, but on just one pair of shoulders it can be overwhelming.  And when the single-parenting is the result of separation or divorce, you’re also dealing with an entire upheaval in the paradigm of your life – as if someone just walked into your home, grabbed the table and flipped it upside down, sending every carefully-placed part of your world into chaos and confusion.

Nothing is normal, now.  Nothing is routine.  And everything is daunting and paralyzing.  So – how do you create normal, from the totally abnormal and unfamiliar?

We are always frightened of the things we don’t understand, can’t see, don’t know – it’s neurological, we’re programmed this way for survival.  When life hands us experiences and situations that are entirely unfamiliar, we almost always experience fear and aversion; and our heads can make the problems even more intense than they may truly be as we envision the worst.  Most of us, as children, had fears of something lurking under our bed – some unseen but awful monster or animal that would grab us if we let our legs or feet get too close or linger too long.  Our natural inclination was to leap into our bed and keep our legs up so that the monster didn’t grab us – not to walk up with curiosity and peek under the bed so we could have a quiet little chat.  But now we need to do that very thing – walk up to the monster; look it in the eye; learn its name and how to talk to it; make it our friend.

Sit down, when you’re alone – most likely at night, after the kids are in bed (and hopefully will stay there) and you have five minutes of peace for the first time all day (which you’ll probably want to spend doing almost anything but this).  Grab a notepad and a pen.  Start a list of all the things that divorce has changed, for you; everything that is different and unsettled.  On each line, list one thing (e.g., “Breakfast routine for kids”; “Homework and study time for kids”; “Evening routine for me”).  This is you looking the monster in the eye.  And it will likely be overwhelming and painful – so be prepared.  Even if you think that you’re just listing what you already know, the experience may be more emotional than that.  After all, we “know” everything has changed but “knowing” it and seeing it listed in front of us, line by line and in black and white, are two different experiences.  

Now, go down the list and write down your “new normal” – most of the time it will only be a goal, not yet a reality (e.g., “Breakfast – cereal every morning with the kids at 7:00am”; “Study vocab with Sam every Wednesday at 7:00pm”; “Read or listen to music with my earbuds for ten minutes every night”).  This is you, learning the monster’s name and engaging it in conversation – taking it from the unknown to the known and finding a way to work with it.  And most importantly, be gentle with yourself as you go forward – meeting these goals would be wonderful, but it isn’t always doable.  Even in a two-parent household, how often do we really meet our “normal routine” goals?  Don’t use this to self-chastise or tell yourself you aren’t measuring up – none of us ever seem to measure up, because we’re comparing ourselves to a form of perfection that does not exist.  These goals are not a must-do list – they are a let’s-hope-sometimes-we-can-do list.  It’s just a way to try to piece together a glimpse of calm possibilities in the chaos.

Lastly, befriend the monster.  Write all the things you weren’t happy with in your past life – I promise you, they are there.  Even when a divorce or separation is utterly unwanted and heartbreaking, there is always something we find in the rubble of our previous lives that we realize is actually a treasure, a gift in the grief we weren’t expecting.  Sometimes they will be things you’ll feel ridiculous and petty putting down on paper, but drove you up a wall – we all have those (“Couldn’t stand the way they chewed”; “I hated that they always wore sweatpants at home”).  Sometimes they will be huge shifts of energy (“They fought mean – I never have to be put through that ever again”; or “I come home to a safe and calm home now that their energy isn’t here anymore”).  This one may feel healing and painful, simultaneously.  You’re coming back to life – try to lean into the pain.  Yes, your entire life is different, and in most ways it just became twice as challenging and daunting.  But there is a freedom, here, too.  There is beauty in the pain and a gift in the grief.  And this is a part of your new normal – perhaps the most important part.

After all, according to Pixar, monsters can be lovable as long as you learn who they are.