When is it ok to go?

I've been thinking about leaving Florida since I got here. This was never meant to be home, it was just a temporary break after 9/11. I never thought I would get pregnant and wind up a financially strapped single mother, living in Florida. Well, slap my ass and stick a plastic flamingo in front of the trailer, look what happened.

My parents have always been ok with me finding my own way. I moved to Denmark when I was in my very early 20's, and I think they were really too shocked to put up much of a fight. Or perhaps I just wasn't listening, because when you're 22, things should stay as they are for a while, and you should be able to leap without looking. They moved to Florida, I moved to Manhattan and never called regularly. One weekend I was sucking down cocktails in Stockholm, the next I was sipping Tropico in San Juan.

Eventually, I knew they would get older, but I figured my imaginary attorney/physician husband and I would fly down regularly and have nice visits. Someday, my mother would wind up living with us, and I would strap on my beer hat and take long walks when she chastised my fabric softener and scented candle overusage.

My perspective and my expectations shifted drastically when I plummeted into my new tax bracket, baby at the hip. The past two years have opened my eyes to the harsh reality of single motherhood in the United States.

I have a County job, and am earning my lowest wage in fifteen years, but had to take the job for the stability and benefits. I am $2,000 above what the State considers low income, but my rent is half my paycheck. County pay is nowhere near living wage for the area. I pay $600 per month for daycare so I can go to work so I can pay for daycare so I can go to work. I have a boss that berates me for the extra sick days I have to take when the Kid gets sick. (I just keep telling myself that in two years, I'll have to struggle to remember his name. It's "Asshole".) This Florida thing just isn't working out for me.

My parents have been great. They take the Kid when I'm sick, or when she gets sent home sick and I can't leave work. They've been taking her twice a week so I could get to the gym, and they help out when school is closed for yet another holiday (the school celebrates so many holidays, that I wonder how helpful to working parents they really are). They take her when I can't take it anymore and am ready to stick my head in the microwave and click "Start". They are ready to lend me hundreds at a minute's notice when I realize my rent check is about to bounce. When I went into labor at 2am and the Kid's dad could not be found, they were there. The Kid claps and screams with joy when she sees them.

I'm thinking about leaving south Florida and moving back to Europe. I really think we could be happy, but I worry about my own selfishness in wanting to be happy at my parents' expense. When my biological family gave me up, these people took me as their own, and gave me everything. Do I have the right to go?

My head is spinning, and I'm wondering if I ever really could win the Lotto.