Married Mom, Solo Parent - Carla Anne Coroy

Who knew a married woman could feel like a single mom?

Bookstore shelves are full of parenting resources for single moms. But where do moms turn if they feel like a single parent—but they’re not? Whether he is away on business, deployed in the military, or obsessing over a hobby, families face unique and difficult challenges when dad is unavailable. Moms who parent in these situations need help and don’t necessarily relate to the advice given in divorce recovery or single parenting resources.

Married Mom, Solo Parent is a common-sense, down-to earth look at the struggles wives and mothers face when their husband is not actively involved in family life. Writing from her own experience as a “married single mom”, Carla Anne addresses tough questions such as: Can I do this alone? How do I raise kids to honor a father who’s not around? How do I give my children a healthy perspective of marriage if they never see one in action?

With practical suggestions, anecdotes, and biblical teaching, this book encourages moms to see their position as a high calling, to find healing amidst their worries and frustrations, and to tap into God’s strength for help in facing the daily challenge of being a married mom, solo parent.

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Ten years ago when I met my husband he was charming and intelligent.  He had a fine sense of humor and seemed quite easy going.  He had a child from a previous relationship and he seemed to really mourn the absence of his child.  We were married shortly after we met and immediately I became pregnant.  We were in many ways a typical young family, eager for the birth of our child and ready for family life.  We planned like most parents do and dreamed of what life would soon be like with a new baby.  

I might have had in inkling of what life would soon become when he left the hospital that day our baby was born to go to work.  I might have had some idea when he left one hour after we brought her home from the hospital to go to work.  I told myself that he was simply doing the manly thing.  That he was proving to me what a wonderful provider he would be, how responsible he was and dedicated he was to being the man and father we would need him to be.  Because of his strong work ethic it was easy for us to make the decision for me to stay at home.  We loved the idea of a traditional family and we knew that we had what it took to make that work.  

I soon found myself immersed in the daily workings of running a household, caring for our newborn and taking care of a husband and as it turns out my new extended family.  Day in and day out when it was evident that my husband was rarely home I repeatedly told myself that I was lucky to have a man that worked hard and provided a living for myself and our child.  I kept telling myself that over and over through the years.  It wasn't until I found myself hanging ceiling fans, hanging doors, repairing broken sink drains that I began to wonder if things hadn't gone terribly wrong along the way.  The internet was a blessing because I could turn to it when I needed advice for home repair.  

As my child grew through the years we spent days together at the park, the zoo, Disneyland, birthday parties, shopping, playing, learning.  I taught her to ride a bike, how to plant in the garden, how to read and cook.  As she grew she began helping me around the house.  Her father was witness to none of this.  He began to drink shortly after she was born and what began as an innocent night out with the boys soon grew into a habit.  We've struggle through the years with his addiction, his coming and going, his hangovers and drunkenness.  I've spent many nights alone in bed tears soaking my pillow.  I have had to answer some pretty tough questions from my daughter.

I love my husband and for the most part he is a gentle, kind and generous man.  He suffers from a disease and we've adapted over the years.  We have had some very rough days and I've had one hand holding my daughter with the other hand holding a suitcase on many occasions.  I have learned to count my blessings, relying on my faith in God to see us through.  It hasn't been easy.  I have grown in ways that I could never have foreseen.  I've become better, stronger and more patient and reliable than I ever thought I was capable of.  The road has been rocky but it is my path-our path-and I've found through God that we could not only survive but thrive.  

Unfortunately, I struggled along this path mostly on my own.  The shame of being basically a single parent while my husband alternately drank himself into a stupor or worked himself into non existence kept me from confiding in only a very few people.  It has taken the courage of a woman like Carla Anne to finally speak up and tell the other people like myself that they are not alone in this journey.  Finally, for all of those confused, lonely, angry single parents there is a bright and shining hope.  There is a resource available to them that did not exist before.  As I read through 'Married Mom' I found myself connecting with Carla's struggles and doubts.  If she had written this book ten years ago my path would have been so much easier.  I might have cried a few less tears.  I might have not thought so many dark thoughts.  I might have saved myself so much time...time that I spent in frustration and resentment.  I might have understood that this is simply life.  My life, like it or not this was my cross to bear.  

My husband was never abusive or aggressive.  Thank the Lord for that blessing.  Had he been, my story would be a different one.  It would have been a story of a woman who left her husband for a better life.  It saddens me because he missed out on so much.  What he was around for he doesn't remember because he was probably either drunk or hungover.  He does not have the same sweet memories of our daughter's milestones that I do and for that I have a great sadness.  I have tried to honor him in as much as I can but my daughter still holds resentment for his choices.  We are working through that.  Damage has been done.  The seeds for forgiveness and understanding are there but I can't say that theirs is a relationship that will ever become anything more than what it is right now.  I am praying and really, other than being open with my child there is little else that I can do.  No I should restate that...I am praying and I am solidly present for my daughter and that is the best that anyone can do.

I am very grateful to Carla Anne for writing this book and I sincerely hope that 'Married Mom, Solo Parent' reaches every single Married, solo parent out there.

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About

Carla Anne Coroy is a gifted storyteller and teacher with contagious enthusiasm for life.  Even the mucky parts.  Her humorous and down-to-earth style quickly engages her audiences as she ignites God’s hope in everyday situations.

Carla Anne speaks and conducts seminars on a variety of topics including Christian life, parenting, marriage and biblical finances.  Watch for her upcoming book for married moms who solo parent, and be sure to check out her blog!

A veteran homeschooling mom and Christian mentor, Carla Anne has a deep passion to see others grow to maturity in Christ.  She has served full-time with ministries such as Youth for Christ and Crown Financial Ministries, and is currently developing an international mentoring organization for youth.  She also serves as a staff writer for the online Christian women’s magazine Mentoring Moments for Christian Women.

Carla Anne and her husband live with their four children in Manitoba, Canada, where they try to stay warm in winter and mosquito-bite-free in summer.

 

* I received an advance copy from the publisher for purposes of review. I was in no way obligated to write a review much less a favorable one. The opinions stated herein are all my own.

The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane A novel by Kate DiCamillo

Candlewick Press, 2006
Ages 7 and up, ISBN 0-7636-2589-2

Once, in a house on Egypt Street, there lived a china rabbit named Edward Tulane. The rabbit was very pleased with himself, and for good reason: he was owned by a girl named Abilene, who treated him with the utmost care and adored him completely.

And then, one day, he was lost.

Kate DiCamillo and Bagram Ibatoulline take us on an extraordinary journey, from the depths of the ocean to the net of a fisherman, from the top of a garbage heap to the fireside of a hoboes' camp, from the bedside of an ailing child to the streets of Memphis. And along the way, we are shown a true miracle — that even a heart of the most breakable kind can learn to love, to lose, and to love again.

***

This is an absolutely beautiful tale.  It will break your heart, warm your soul and make you smile.  Words really can't express how much I love this book.  It will always hold a place of honor on our bookshelf.  If you have even the smallest glimmer of sentimentality in your heat, have a fondness for The Velveteen Rabbit, have a penchant for love stories (for this is truly a love story...), or just simply enjoy reading an amazingly well crafted story deftly told by an able artist then please consider gifting yourself with the joy that is Edward Tulane.

***

Chapter One
 
Once, in a house on Egypt Street, there lived a rabbit who was made almost entirely of china. He had china arms and china legs, china paws and a china head, a china torso and a china nose. His arms and legs were jointed and joined by wire so that his china elbows and china knees could be bent, giving him much freedom of movement.
    His ears were made of real rabbit fur, and beneath the fur, there were strong, bendable wires, which allowed the ears to be arranged into poses that reflected the rabbit’s mood — jaunty, tired, full of ennui. His tail, too, was made of real rabbit fur and was fluffy and soft and well shaped.
    The rabbit’s name was Edward Tulane, and he was tall. He measured almost three feet from the tip of his ears to the tip of his feet; his eyes were painted a penetrating and intelligent blue.
    In all, Edward Tulane felt himself to be an exceptional specimen. Only his whiskers gave him pause. They were long and elegant (as they should be), but they were of uncertain origin. Edward felt quite strongly that they were not the whiskers of a rabbit. Whom the whiskers had belonged to initially — what unsavory animal — was a question that Edward could not bear to consider for too long. And so he did not. He preferred, as a rule, not to think unpleasant thoughts.
    Edward’s mistress was a ten-year-old, dark-haired girl named Abilene Tulane, who thought almost as highly of Edward as Edward thought of himself. Each morning after she dressed herself for school, Abilene dressed Edward.
    The china rabbit was in possession of an extraordinary wardrobe composed of handmade silk suits, custom shoes fashioned from the finest leather and designed specifically for his rabbit feet, and a wide array of hats equipped with holes so that they could easily fit over Edward’s large and expressive ears. Each pair of well-cut pants had a small pocket for Edward’s gold pocket watch. Abilene wound this watch for him each morning.
    “Now, Edward,” she said to him after she was done winding the watch, “when the big hand is on the twelve and the little hand is on the three, I will come home to you.”
    She placed Edward on a chair in the dining room and positioned the chair so that Edward was looking out the window and could see the path that led up to the Tulane front door. Abilene balanced the watch on his left leg. She kissed the tips of his ears, and then she left and Edward spent the day staring out at Egypt Street, listening to the tick of his watch and waiting.
     Of all the seasons of the year, the rabbit most preferred winter, for the sun set early then and the dining-room windows became dark and Edward could see his own reflection in the glass. And what a reflection it was! What an elegant figure he cut! Edward never ceased to be amazed at his own fineness.
    In the evening, Edward sat at the dining-room table with the other members of the Tulane family: Abilene; her mother and father; and Abilene’s grandmother, who was called Pellegrina. True, Edward’s ears barely cleared the tabletop, and true also, he spent the duration of the meal staring straight ahead at nothing but the bright and blinding white of the tablecloth. But he was there, a rabbit at the table.
    Abilene’s parents found it charming that Abilene considered Edward real, and that she sometimes requested that a phrase or story be repeated because Edward had not heard it.
    “Papa,” Abilene would say, “I’m afraid that Edward didn’t catch that last bit.”
    Abilene’s father would then turn in the direction of Edward’s ears and speak slowly, repeating what he had just said for the benefit of the china rabbit. Edward pretended, out of courtesy to Abilene, to listen. But, in truth, he was not very interested in what people had to say. And also, he did not care for Abilene’s parents and their condescending manner toward him. All adults, in fact, condescended to him.
    Only Abilene’s grandmother spoke to him as Abilene did, as one equal to another. Pellegrina was very old. She had a large, sharp nose and bright, black eyes that shone like dark stars. It was Pellegrina who was responsible for Edward’s existence. It was she who had commissioned his making, she who had ordered his silk suits and his pocket watch, his jaunty hats and his bendable ears, his fine leather shoes and his jointed arms and legs, all from a master craftsman in her native France. It was Pellegrina who had given him as a gift to Abilene on her seventh birthday.
    And it was Pellegrina who came each night to tuck Abilene into her bed and Edward into his.
    “Will you tell us a story, Pellegrina?” Abilene asked her grandmother each night.
    “Not tonight, lady,” said Pellegrina.
    “When?” asked Abilene. “What night?”
    “Soon,” said Pellegrina. “Soon there will be a story.”
    And then she turned off the light, and Edward and Abilene lay in the dark of the bedroom.
    “I love you, Edward,” Abilene said each night after Pellegrina had left. She said those words and then she waited, almost as if she expected Edward to say something in return.
    Edward said nothing. He said nothing because, of course, he could not speak. He lay in his small bed next to Abilene’s large one. He stared up at the ceiling and listened to the sound of her breath entering and leaving her body, knowing that soon she would be asleep. Because Edward’s eyes were painted on and he could not close them, he was always awake.
    Sometimes, if Abilene put him into his bed on his side instead of on his back, he could see through the cracks in the curtains and out into the dark night. On clear nights, the stars shone, and their pinprick light comforted Edward in a way that he could not quite understand. Often, he stared at the stars all night until the dark finally gave way to dawn.



THE MIRACULOUS JOURNEY OF EDWARD TULANE by Kate DiCamillo. Text copyright © 2006 by Kate DiCamillo. Illustrations copyright © 2006 by Bagram Ibatoulline. Published by Candlewick Press, Inc., Cambridge, MA.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I was born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, raised in Clermont, Florida, and currently live in Minneapolis, Minnesota. I write for both children and adults and I like to think of myself as a storyteller. Here are a few more facts about me: I am short. And loud. I hate to cook and love to eat. I am single and childless, but I have lots of friends and I am an aunt to three lovely children (Luke, Roxanne, and Max) and one not so lovely dog (Henry). I think of myself as an enormously lucky person: I get to tell stories for a living.

Today's Inspiration

Whatever You Do Will Prosper

Today’s Scripture:

“He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers”
(Psalm 1:3, NIV)

Today’s Word:

God’s plan is for you to prosper and be successful in every area of your life. Some people might say, “I don’t see how you can say that with the economy like it is. All the experts are saying it’s going to get worse before it gets better.” That may be true in general, but it doesn’t have to be true for believers in Jesus. We are connected to a supply line that will never run dry. Don’t be talked in to having a bad year. The economy is not your source. God is your source. And God wants to bless you beyond your salary. He wants to bless you beyond your normal income. He likes to do unusual things. He can bless you with what I call an explosive blessing! That means, all of the sudden, unexpectedly, something happens that takes you to a new level. Old limitations are broken, and suddenly, you find yourself further than you ever dreamed!

The key is found in Psalm 1:1-2. We have to separate ourselves from the system of the world and set our heart and mind on the Word of God. When you meditate on His promises and follow His commands, you will experience these explosive blessings. When you put Him first, you will be strong and stable, and whatever you do will prosper!

Prayer for Today:

Father God, thank You for Your Word which lights my path and directs my heart. I submit every area of my life to You and put You first in everything I do. Teach me Your ways so I can walk with You and experience everything You have in store for me. In Jesus’ Name. Amen.

Joel and Victoria Osteen