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single parenting

There are no rules as to what makes up a loving family.

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Meet Bonnie Brown. She's a single mother who works at Wendy's to help support her teenaged daughter. She also has a disability.

Recently, Bonnie was interviewed by her 15-year-old daughter, Myra, for a StoryCorps video where she opened up about what it's like to be a single parent who is intellectually disabled.

Amazingly, this conversation manages to put that sometimes indescribable bond between a mother and her daughter into words. It also highlights the protective nature of their relationship.

"There were times when we would go out, and people would just blatantly stare, and I would say something," Myra says in the video.

Every mother-daughter relationship has its ups and down, of course, just like any other relationship. But for this pair, Bonnie's disability is just one of the things that makes up who they are. We all have stuff to carry, and this is something they both carry, together.

Watch the moving conversation between this mother and her daughter in the video below:

A Facebook post from Sheryl Sandberg has gone viral.

Last spring, Sheryl Sandberg's life changed in the blink of an eye.

Her husband, Dave Goldberg, died unexpectedly while the pair were on vacation. The tragedy placed Sandberg, the COO of Facebook and a mother of two, in a role she'd never been in before: single parent.

"For me, this is still a new and unfamiliar world," she wrote in a Facebook post in honor of Mother's Day on May 6, 2016. "Before, I did not quite get it. I did not really get how hard it is to succeed at work when you are overwhelmed at home. I did not understand how often I would look at my son’s or daughter’s crying face and not know how to stop the tears."

Goldberg’s death didn't just change Sandberg personally — it forced her to reflect on the messages she's promoted as a successful author and businesswoman.

And some of those messages, she noted, should have been crafted differently.

"Some people felt that I did not spend enough time writing about the difficulties women face when they have an unsupportive partner or no partner at all," Sandberg wrote of her best-selling book, "Lean In."

"They were right."

"Lean In," a best-seller that coaches women (and men) on how to counter gender bias at work, was no stranger to criticism. Many felt Sandberg downplayed the effects of systemic sexism in the work place, as well as overlooked the unique challenges faced by disadvantaged women and women of color.

Judging from her post, however, it seems being a single parent is giving Sandberg some new perspective:

"I will never experience and understand all of the challenges most single moms face, but I understand a lot more than I did a year ago."

Sandberg explained many single moms face uphill battles every single day, and our policies do little to help them make ends meet.

Noting she's "extremely fortunate" to have the financial means to support her family, Sandberg said she's in the minority — "the odds are stacked against" most moms doing it alone. And even though the number of single-parent households has been on the rise, our workplace policies don't reflect this modern reality.

The U.S. remains the only advanced economy in the world that doesn't require employers to guarantee paid maternity leave, as Sandberg pointed out. Far too many single moms also work in jobs that don't provide paid time off if they or their children are sick.

How are working single moms — a group that is already disproportionately poor — supposed to get ahead when they're living in these circumstances?

The best way we can celebrate Mother's Day? "Vow to do more to support" the moms who need us most, Sandberg wrote.

"Single moms have been leaning in for a long time — out of necessity and a desire to provide the best possible opportunities for their children," she said in her post.

"Being a mother is the most important — and most humbling — job I’ve ever had. As we rightly celebrate motherhood, we should give special thanks to the women who are raising children on their own. And let’s vow to do more to support them, every day."

From Your Site Articles

A Mother's Day celebration of brave, badass single moms everywhere.

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When I was a child, I didn’t get to spend a lot of time with my mother.

Sometimes, the sound of her keys unlocking the door late at night was all I heard from her. When my parents’ marriage ended, my mother worked day and night to support us. I remember her handwriting — from all the little notes she left us about dinner and chores — better than I remember her beauty regimens or her favorite meals.

I used to wish that things were different. If she hadn’t worked so much, she could have been home to teach me the things that moms usually make sure to teach their daughters. I used to feel like I missed out.

Image via iStock.

But now I realize that even though my mother didn’t have a lot of time to spend with me, she was always teaching me something important.

1. My mother didn’t teach me secret recipes.

There’s no secret to rice or ramen or spaghetti. She showed me how to cook ground beef and pour a jar of sauce on top of it. My sister and I would take turns picking out a box of cereal every week, and we were never allowed to have more than one bowl for breakfast. We rarely got to pick what we wanted for dinner. Sometimes she left a box of macaroni and cheese on the table for us to cook for dinner while she was at work.

I don’t have family recipes to pass down to my children, but I teach them my mother’s sense of duty and responsibility. My exhausted mother rarely indulged us with a comforting home-cooked meal, but she worked tirelessly to make sure that we were never hungry.

2. My mother didn’t often have time to play with me.

In my fondest playtime memories, she is absent. I remember when she’d emerge from her bedroom, tired and groggy, preparing to leave us for the entire day again. She never sat and played with dolls or pretended to have tea parties. If I asked her to play, she would say, “Where is your sister? I have to get ready.”

And so my sister became my companion, an extension of myself, my other half.

Image via iStock.

Instead of waiting for time with my mother, my sister and I took care of each other. We woke, we cooked, we played, we cleaned, and we fell asleep always together. The love we built throughout our childhood made us inseparable. My mother made sure my sister and I took care of each other. She couldn’t entertain me, but I was never alone and she made sure that I always knew that.

3. We didn’t take family vacations.

My mother was too busy working. My summers were spent in our apartment or outside playing with neighborhood kids. Sometimes I spent the whole day at the restaurant where she worked.

We didn’t have many beach days or family trips, but when she had the time to take us to the park for a picnic, it was enchanting. My mother could make a frugal day seem like a lavish outing. When she would take us to McDonald's or let us get ice cream, I felt like royalty. My childhood memories aren’t filled with vacations or grand adventures, but my sweet mother showed me how to find joy in the simplest things.

4. My mother didn’t make sure life was easy for me.

She worked and slept and worked and slept for most of my childhood. She didn’t have time to shield me from many things kids shouldn’t know or see. There were times when both of us were deeply hurt and broken. She couldn’t stop the world to soothe me, but she showed me how to find the will to carry on. When my mother’s heart was broken, when she grieved and when she was weary, she never let her sorrow overcome her. She faced each day with determination.

She showed me that through hard days, you can just go through the motions. On other days, your will can be strong and steady. And on really bad days, you can get through even if you barely make it. I never knew the feeling of a coddled, carefree childhood, but my unstoppable mother showed me how to dig deep and find my own strength.

5. My mother didn’t have time to teach me how to be a "lady."

When it came to navigating traditional aspects of femininity, I was pretty much on my own. She didn’t show me how to put on makeup. The pretty dresses she owned became dusty on hangers in her closet because there was rarely an occasion to wear them.

What I learned from my mother, though, was how to be a bold woman.

She fearlessly showed me her strong yet breakable heart, time after time. She taught me how to rise to an occasion: crisis, joy, terror, or celebration and look straight into it, ready and able.

Photo via Nuffer/Pixabay.

My mother danced in our living room. She wept in our kitchen. She raged when she was angry. She fought when she was attacked. Her laughter echoed through our home when she was joyful.

She wasn’t always right and she wasn’t always wrong. But my bold, authentic mother was always a woman, always herself.

Now, I have children of my own and I have precious time to spend with them.

The mornings when my tired mother would emerge from her bedroom are long gone too. Now my mother is retired, and she gets to sleep as late as she wants. But like every mother, she often wonders if she did enough for me. She worries that we missed so much and tells me she wishes she could go back in time.

When I look back, though, I see an unbreakable, courageous woman. I see the kind of strength that builds a legacy. I see a mother who didn't have a lot and gave everything she had. I see love poured out through hard work and small joys.

I hope my children say the same about me.