Months after leaving my daughter’s father, I confessed to him that I was having a hard time adjusting to being a single mom. I was having a hard time with my four-hour daily commute — an hour on the bus across the Bronx to upper Manhattan to drop her off with my grandmother, then an hour on the train to get to work, then the reverse in the evenings — five, sometimes six days a week. Then I had to feed my little girl, bathe her, read to her, and coddle her. By the time I put her down for the ni…
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Tell a man there are 300 Billion stars in the universe and he’ll believe you. Tell him a bench has wet paint on it and he’ll have to touch to be sure. – Unknown Author
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