No little girl looks in the mirror while playing dress-up, professing it will be the happiest day of her life when she becomes a single parent. It’s just not done. There’s a certain appeal to doing it the ‘right way’ and a lot of little girls seem to be born with the gene memory of marriage + babies=happiness.

I don’t believe in it. For me.

That’s not to say that I’m not for that kind of happily ever after – I smile every time I hear a story or see the perfect picture advertising it. Love is all I think it takes to make the world go ’round. But that’s not my reality, and you know what? My happily ever after, right now, is pretty awesome.

Sure, I don’t get to sleep in on some weekends, having a partner willing to drag the kids out for breakfast after he cleans up the kitchen. I am always the kitchen cleaner and I’m always the one that wakes up early in the morning and in the middle of the night. But, I also don’t have to deal with sharing a bed with someone who steals all of the covers and has sharp toenails.

I don’t have someone pitching in to mow the lawn, do the laundry or bathe my daughter, Isobel. But it’s really okay, because playing in the tub is her favorite thing to do and gives me the chance to clean the bathroom, give myself a facial or read a magazine. She loves helping me sort laundry, and putting away her socks and undies when it’s done. And I don’t have a lawn to mow, anyway – I live in an apartment in Downtown Vancouver.

No one’s cooking me gourmet meals or speed-dialling for pizza delivery, it’s true. But this means I have a lower grocery bill, in theory, with one less picky eater to feed. I also never ever have to buy chips, pork rinds or beef jerky, if I don’t want to. And dinner can be pancakes and crackers, eaten while watching a movie. In pajamas.

I live on a small budget, in a small apartment, in a fabulous neighborhood. I’ve sacrificed material things that quickly I realized I didn’t want or need anyway, and because of this, my daughter and I live comfortably and healthily. But we live alone.

Do I want the happy marriage? Yes, sometimes. But it is also so satisfying being charged with only our two needs, wishes and dreams, without boxer shorts hanging on door knobs and inside-out socks six inches from the laundry hamper.

I know I’m being glib. I know the life of a single mom is hard, grueling and seemingly the unending work of two or more people (two parents, a chef, a maid and a financial planner – at least!). But I’m pretty thankful that no one’s burped the alphabet in my house for a while.

When she’s not rocking a one-woman, one-toddler mosh pit in her living room, Zoeyjane lets her angst out at Mommy is Moody, blogs at The Baby Banter and Tweets like it’s going out of style.