I was the only mom at the pool that day. As I sat there with sweat rolling down my back, perched at the picnic table in the shade, laptop out, I thought about the differences between my childhood and that of my children.
I was raised by a single mom.
I say that, but I did have a step dad for several years, but he was more of a guy who lived in the same house as me than a dad. We didn’t really do stuff together. He didn’t parent me. He was just there. When he and my mom divorced, the only thing that really changed was where we lived. Everything else seemed the same to me.
My mom is a teacher, always has been (and never in my school district). She left early in the morning, and got home in the late afternoon. While she was more of a free-range parent, I never questioned her love for me. I always knew I could talk to her and I trusted her.