Solo Parenting Through the Chaos: What I Wish I'd Known

Nobody prepares you for solo parenting.

At least, I wasn't prepared.

I don't recall any mention in parenting books, sandwiched between "Introducing Solids" and "The Pre-Teen Years". There are 'What to Expect' books for every stage, it seems, except "What to Expect when Two become One: How to Fly Solo and Keep a Loose Grip on Your Sanity".

I divorced their father when they were gearing up for high school. After the divorce, he chose not to remain involved in their lives—so I ended up solo parenting two teenage girls. Arguably the hardest possible time to suddenly be doing it alone.

My kids are grown now. We made it: they're alive, thriving, and I'm grateful they still want to spend time with me.

Why the gratitude? Because I made So. Many. Mistakes. And I beat myself up for each and every one. Like the time I completely forgot about the school play until an hour before curtain call. Or the day I melted down over missing mittens. Not the kids' mittens—my mittens. I stood there crying in the hallway because I couldn't find my own mittens, and somehow that became every overwhelming thing I couldn't control.

But now, when I look back?

I see a woman who kept showing up. Solo parenting is not for the weak, and neither are the kids who navigate it alongside you.

So if you are currently in the middle of this journey—then please, allow me to share what I learned the hard way, so maybe you don't have to.

Lesson One: You Don't Have to Be Everything to Everyone

I used to think I needed to be mom, dad, cheerleader, disciplinarian, homework helper, and weekend entertainment committee all rolled into one exhausted human. Turns out, kids don't need you to be perfect at seventeen different roles. They need you to be really good at one: being their person.

The day I stopped trying to be Super Mom and started being Honest Mom changed everything. "I don't know, let's figure it out" became my most-used phrase.

My kids learned problem-solving.

I learned to breathe.

Lesson Two: Your Kids See Your Resilience, Not Your Failures

While I was cataloging every moment I lost my patience or served popcorn for dinner (again), my kids were watching me get back up every single day. They saw me rebuild, navigate disappointments, and keep going when everything felt impossible.

Now that they're adults, guess what they remember? They remember the times I lost my cool, but they also remember that I did my best. They remember that there were days where I didn't have time for them, but they also remember that I never gave up.

And here's the kicker: they remember popcorn for dinner too. And from that, they learned that when they're exhausted after a long day of work?

Popcorn is a solid choice.

Lesson Three: Community Matters

My kids were involved in everything - sports, music, volunteering, clubs, you name it. And I couldn't have done it without the other parents who became our lifeline.

Community matters. 

The mom who picked up my daughter from swim practice when I was driving the other to violin? She didn't just save me an hour—she showed my kids that asking for help isn't failure, it's community.

The parents I traded rides with became the people I could text at 10pm with "Is this normal teenage behavior or should I be worried?" They got it in ways my child-free friends, as wonderful as they were, simply couldn't.

Trading rides to and from activities? Blessings in disguise. Ears to bounce off of? Priceless. Commiserating and celebrating? Essential.

Here's what I learned: Community doesn't happen when you pretend you have it all together. It happens when you show up messy and honest and ask for what you need.

Stop trying to look perfect and start asking for help. Real connection lives in the admission that you can't do this alone.

Lesson Four: Self-Care Isn't Selfish—It's Modeling

I quickly learned that when I took time for myself, I showed up better for them. I made it clear that I needed my time for my friendships and my activities. I told my girls that not having me available to them 24/7 actually made me a better parent.

And turns out, it taught them independence and resilience.

Even if "self-care" looked like hiding in the bathroom for five minutes of peace or putting on real pants instead of yoga pants, it counted. The point wasn't perfection—it was demonstrating that taking care of yourself matters.

Lesson Five: Solid Boundaries are Key

Boundaries weren't about being mean—they were about staying sane and teaching life skills at the same time.

"If you want a ride somewhere, I need 24 hours notice" wasn't me being difficult. It was me teaching that other people's time and schedules matter.

"I will not tolerate this level of mess—you need to pitch in" wasn't about cleanliness. It was about teaching that households run on respect and teamwork, not chaos and magic.

The beautiful irony? The clearer my boundaries became, the less I had to enforce them. Kids actually crave structure, even when they push against it.

And now as adults? They have healthy boundaries in their own relationships. They know how to say no. They know how to ask for what they need. They don't let people take advantage of their time or energy.

Watching them navigate the world with that kind of clarity? That inspires me.

Here's What Actually Saved My Sanity

When I was in the thick of it, these became my mantras:

Lower your standards. Clean clothes and fed kids? You're winning. The house doesn't need to be Instagram-ready.

Find your village. Other solo parents get it in ways nobody else will. Find them. Text them. Let them see you struggle.

Celebrate small wins. Everyone still in one piece? That's a victory. Made it through the week without a major crisis? That counts.

Remember: This phase won't last forever. Even when it feels like it will. Even when you're so tired you can't see straight. It will shift.

The Truth About Solo Parenting

Looking back, I see how much I got wrong. I see the moments I wish I could do over. I see the times my exhaustion meant I wasn't fully present.

But I also see two women who learned to be resilient, independent, and capable because they watched me keep going when things were hard. They didn't need a perfect parent. They needed a real one who showed up, even on the days when showing up was all I had to give.

If you're in the thick of it right now, feeling overwhelmed and wondering if you're enough—you are. You're more than enough.

And you're definitely not alone.