The roller coaster began Friday after school and didn’t stop till late Sunday. I knew it was not going to be an easy weekend, so I mentally prepared myself for the ride.

The weekend activities began Friday night with basketball practice. On Saturday there was a neighborhood parade, kids, cars, lots of noise and lots of walking. Saturday night was movie night at school – two movies, lots of sugar, lots of kids and lots of tired parents. Sunday morning after church was an afternoon birthday party for one of the children in my son’s class. I just wanted to hibernate.

Saturday, while prancing down the boulevard in the parade, my children and I ran into Jan, a mother in my son’s class. Her feet were dragging much like mine.

“Can you believe this weekend?” she asked forcing a laugh.

“I’m just counting down till Sunday night,” I responded. One consolation was that many of the mothers in my children’s classes shared my pain.

We agreed that going home to make lunch would further complicate the weekend, so we stopped at a local pizza place.

Jan grabbed her cell to call her husband. “Did you do the laundry?” she rolled her eyes and I knew what the answer was. “What are you doing?” This time she just shook her head and closed her eyes. I could only imagine. “Okay, I’ll bring something home for you,” she said with disgust in her voice. “We’ll be home in about an hour.”

Hanging up she turned to me and said, “He’s home watching the game and I’m bringing him lunch. Why is it that he gets to lay around all weekend while I do everything with Bobby and he doesn’t even pick up a finger to help out around the house? It’s not fair. I’m exhausted.”

Jan paused for a moment and pursed her lips. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “It must be much harder on you.”

“It’s difficult,” I responded, not wanting to tell her what I was really thinking, and happy to take some recognition for what I do. Yes, I have two jobs, two kids and a house to take care of on my own. I have no one to help out on crazy weekends with the children or the house. But then again, neither did she. And she didn’t even see it.

Sometimes I think being a single mom has its advantages. Yes, I’m the one at all the children’s activities – but so are the other moms I know. As a single mom there’s no question as to what my responsibilities are – and who is going to do them. Yes, I go to bed tired, but so do other moms. Only when I put my head on the pillow, there’s no resentment towards someone lying next to me who sleeps soundly because there’s nothing on his mind other than football. Finally, I have two children – not three.

There are many times I look at other moms and fantasize what life would be like with a partner, someone to help around the house and with the children. At those times I think about Jan’s reality and I know in my heart that the grass is not always greener.