Eleven years ago I had just given birth to a long, skinny, little baby with peach fuzz on his head and a finely tuned set of vocal cords.  I year later,  I was a newly-single mama who needed to somehow pull off a 1^st Birthday party. I was overwhelmed. I was exhausted. I figured the best thing to do was just go to a MacDonald’s or something. My friend Kimberly, who had two babies nearly the same ages as mine, insisted that I could do a more than adequate job at home.  

 

When you don’t have any family in town, you have to lean on your friends a little harder. Kim knew this, as she was the wife of a Marine and didn’t have family in town, either. 

 

She cooked pasta and stayed to clean it up after everyone left. My friend Amanda ordered, picked up, and paid for the Backyardigans birthday cake.

 

 

The only photos I have of that day were the ones she took. All my friends from church came. I didn’t have a lot of friends, but I didn’t have a lot of space to fill up, either.   A small house becomes a large party fairly quickly. 

 

 

 

When I left my ex-husband, I had two kids in diapers and faith that we’d be better off in two houses, but not much of a plan. I had a brand new job and a happy little house, gas in my minivan and not much else. I leapt into the abyss and trusted the universe to catch me, and it did. Over and over. My friends held me up. My neighbors shoved my walk. My boss didn’t fire me when my kids threw up and I missed work.  Everything wasn’t perfect or easy, but I was incredibly blessed. 

 

 

My mother always said, “God looks out for fools and drunks.” I think God has an eye out for single parents as well.