Maid - Stephanie Land Page 0,18
to prove it, was the simplest way to show I supported a child with my minimal (nonexistent) wages.
The Pell Grant, a federal program that offers financial aid to low-income students, paid more than my full-time tuition for the quarter, leaving me with $1,300 extra. With $275 a month in child support, and $45 a week from cleaning the preschool, that meant we had about $700 a month to float us through. Food stamp money was a little less than $300, and we still had the WIC checks. Thanks to TBRA and LIHEAP, housing expenses hovered around $150, which left my expenses for car insurance, phone, and Internet. With the winter season, I wasn’t working anymore, so the grant for Mia’s day care ended. Getting an education, going to class, didn’t qualify me for childcare assistance, so I had to find people to watch Mia for a couple of hours twice a week during my French class, which was not only required but met in person. Even though I kind of hated everything about it, most weeks it was the only time I sat in a room with other people.
Many nights I’d make a large cup of coffee after Mia went to sleep and stay up until one or two in the morning to finish homework. Mia didn’t take naps, and she hardly stopped talking or moving. She needed my constant attention and care. I couldn’t find work to fill the gaps in my schedule, so we went for long walks through the woods and by the ocean shore, like I’d longed to do when I was working, only now I walked with the heaviness of only four hours of sleep and a lot less money. It had been easier when Mia was younger, before she started walking and her protests lasted only as long as it took to bounce her to sleep. Now, her strong-willed nature started to really come through. Mia definitely had an independence to her spirit; so much that she wore me out in a single morning.
But after she’d gone to bed, I stared at my textbooks in the stillness of our kitchen. The tedious task of reading assignments and end-of-chapter discussion questions in front of me only magnified my loneliness. That summer had been a period of constant movement as I focused on getting secure housing. Now that everything was in place, my mind could settle a bit, and the realization that I was taking care of a child all alone creeped into my mind like a thick fog. With so much drama revolving around Mia’s time with her dad, and because his visits were only two or three hours at a time, I never felt like I got a break. Mia’s energy knew no end. On walks, she insisted on pushing the stroller herself at a snail’s pace. At parks, she insisted on me pushing her for what felt like forever on a swing, or me watching her as she went down a slide, over and over and over again. I was almost thirty, and many of my friends were getting married, buying houses, and starting families. They were doing everything the right way. I stopped calling them completely, too embarrassed to admit how bad things had gotten. If I had stopped to add it up, the Pell Grant, SNAP, TBRA, LIHEAP, WIC, Medicaid, and childcare would total seven different programs I’d applied for. I needed seven different kinds of government assistance to survive. My world was quiet amid the constant chaos of a toddler, of shuffling, of stress.
For the first time, my birthday came that month without anyone in my family noticing. Jamie must have felt sorry for me and agreed to take Mia and me out to paint our own ceramic mugs. Over dinner at the Olive Garden, I watched him hold Mia in his lap while she shoved handfuls of pasta in her mouth.
When we pulled up to my apartment, I sat there for a few moments before opening the door.
“Will you come in?” I asked.
“Why?” he asked, tapping the steering wheel.
I fought back tears for wanting, needing his company. “Maybe you could put Mia to bed?”
He pursed his lips in frustration but reached for the keys to turn off the car. I watched him, then looked back at Mia with a smile. Jamie and Mia were the only family I had.
I wanted Jamie to stay the night, even if it was to sleep on the couch.
On a normal day, every time