Coffee, Courage, and a Cracked Phone Screen
There are days when I feel like I’m living five lives at once—full-time employee, unpaid Uber driver, homework enforcer, chef, maid, dog walker, and somewhere deep under the layers… artist.
I’m a single mom trying to do it all—keeping the lights on, showing up at work with something that resembles energy, managing after-school activities, and occasionally pretending I know what I’m doing when it comes to dating in 2025 (spoiler: I don’t). Sleep is a concept I used to understand. Time? Even more elusive.
And yet, the need to create never leaves me.
It taps on my shoulder during the quietest moments—when the house is finally still, and the dishes are done (or at least soaking… again). It whispers to me while I wait in the school parking lot or stand in line at the pharmacy. Creativity has become my form of self-preservation. It’s how I process the chaos and turn it into something beautiful, even if it’s just a sketch in the margins of my grocery list.
But I’ll be honest—it’s hard. Some weeks, I don’t touch my paintbrush. Some days, the poetry stays locked in my head because there’s simply no room left. And that hurts. It hurts to feel like you’re constantly choosing between survival and soul work.
Still, I keep carving out stolen moments—ten minutes here, a breath there. A candle lit while the house sleeps. A line of poetry scribbled between emails. It’s never perfect. It’s rarely uninterrupted. But it’s mine.
And I couldn’t do it without the people who step in to hold space for me.
To my friends and family who offer a meal, a break, or simply a kind word—you have no idea how much that means. Every moment you give me to create, breathe, or simply sit still is a gift. You don’t just give me rest—you help me chase the dream.
Because it’s not just about painting for peace of mind. It’s about something bigger. It’s about keeping that artistic dream alive: submitting my portfolio to galleries, entering the next art show, applying for the grants that could change everything. You know how much this dream means to me—and even when I lose sight of it, when the chaos of single motherhood swirls too loudly to hear my own thoughts—you’re there.
You keep me grounded. You remind me that I can do this. That my art matters. That the spark is still there, even when I can’t feel it.
So here’s to all the other single moms fighting to keep a piece of themselves alive while raising tiny humans and holding the world together with coffee and duct tape. You are seen. You are incredible. And your creativity still matters—even if it only shows up in scribbles on a napkin or a doodle on the edge of your to-do list.
Let’s keep stealing those moments. They matter.
-Christine Armstrong
Shaping the Crazy 