I’ve always had a thing for water. That’s the understatement of the century. I have a full blown, batshit crazy, cant-keep-your-hands-off-each-other-so-you-bang-in–the-car-on-the-way-home kinda love for all things water. I love the lake. I love the ocean. I love swimming pools. Naturally, Sea World and me are a match made in Heaven, right? No. Fuck that place. I think I hit a personal record for the amount of times I said fuck. I actually thought that I said it a little too much today. And for me, that’s impressive. That’s a word that I feel should be added into errythang, even the Pledge of Allegiance. One Nation, under Motha-Fuckin-God.  

            I take my kids. Alone. Party of 5. This is our reality. This is our life. This is how we do. I didn’t have any reservations in regards to taking them to this big ass fish tank solo. I actually enjoy the overwhelming chaos that comes with raising them as a single mom. I didn’t plan on it being this way, but there wasn’t exactly a way to do it using option A anymore, so this is what our life is. That’s ok. It’s better than ok really. It’s da bomb diggity. No doubt. I like the way we work it.

            So kids and I hit the World of the Sea. It’s a cluster fuck from the get go. Hoards of people. I hadn’t planned on that. My trusty double jogger that I love oh-so-much kicks off the day with a flat tire. Fuck sticks. I have to rent the shitty ones. Damn damn damn. The thing won’t move. The wheels stick. I think about slashing the tires and leaving a note on it when we drop it off. Stroller from hell. But it holds my babies so I don’t have to panic about keeping an eye on 4 kids.

            We hit the Shamu show around 3. It’s fucking awe-summm. I love that fucking beast. I shoulda been a whale trainer. I hear they do well. And they get paid to go swimming. Errrmuhgerd. Best. Job. Evarrrr. We walk the park. Constantly bumping into people who have no idea that I have no problem running into them if they stand in front of my stroller and stop. Rules of engagement. You get in my way, I will run you over. Pray for your ankles, biotch. It happened three times. Once just because I was crabby and hungry and felt like running someone over. Ha ha. I’m 31. I may never fully mature. Oh well. Move it fuckers. I’m on vacation.

            We see all the shows and shit Sea World has to offer. We leave. My wallet is tucked in the pocket of my purse. She’s crying like Jodi Foster in The Accused. I think my debit card is smoking. I get all 4 babies in the car. The day is over. Sea World, check. We have about a 40-minute drive back to Oceanside to my cousin’s place. It’s quiet. My loves are PTFO. I have time to think. Morrison’s “These Are The Days” comes on the iPod. It’s perfect for my mood. I think about all the shit the kids and I have done over the last 3 days. This trip was a great idea. They had so much fun. I took 4 kids to Cal all alone and they’ve all survived. I’m leaving with 4 kids still. It’s a feat in and of itself.

             I think about how my kids were so excited as we left Sea World. I asked them how their vacation was. They all 4 at once began ranting about it. “Best time ever” was said a lot. That makes me happy. Not just happy. But really proud of myself. I knew being a single mom was going to be hard. I knew it was going to be lonely and there would be times that I hated it. But I never wanted the kids to think I thought it was a chore. They’re my life. They are not work. This is my family. I love it. I love them. 

      Anyway. As I was saying. I hit me as I drive up the i-5 (hauling balls, I love CA freeway drivers) that as a single mom, I’ve pulled this shit off. My kids are not only doing well, they know I love them. They play with me. They talk to me. They come up kiss me on the head when I’m doing homework. They say I love you. They say it to each other. They say it often. That’s so cool. Then I think about how when I was freshly single, I was terrified at how this would play out for them. Will they suffer having one income? Can I do it? I have. And I do. That feels so good. To know that I’m in a place where I cannot only afford their vacation, but I can mentally take on the task of manning this ship alone is a great feeling. I never wanted them to feel like they didn’t have as good of a life because they had a single mom. But we’re pulling it off. I love that. I feel like a fucking super hero as I drive them home.

            This trip has been remarkable for my family. We needed to have some time together where they saw that they were part of a family that was a complete unit, even with just one parent.  They needed to know that they were all I needed to be happy. They needed to see that their mom wanted to spend her time off with her family; them.

This will be an annual trip. I’ve decided. It’s tough to be a single parent. It gets a little boring. But that’s ok. Boring isn’t always bad. Being able to look at my family and know that we have  overcome so much and we’re all happy, healthy, and crazy in love with each other is the shit. I grin a little as I drive. I look the car over at each kid, sound asleep. I have done so well. I have created such a beautiful life. I am the happiest person on the planet. No. Universe, as I am their fucking super hero.