OP, he sounds like he's perpetuating the things from your marriage that continue to be triggers for you.....But the reality is, single parenting life is very different!
If we're into confessions here, then here goes--
Dd never has her hair brushed. It's washed a couple times a week and combed out then, but she's not digging the hairbrush at present. Do the teachers judge her at school? Maybe. Do I care? Not really. What was for dinner tonight? Cookies, lunch meat, avocados, leftover soup, lettuce and rice cakes. Well-balanced, home-made graze food. It took about 5 minutes to get in the graze bowls. My idea of ideal? Nope. Everyone happy and nutritioned? Yep. Clean house? Nope. Do I care? Nope. It's 9:30 and dd is still in her fairy princess fort and happy. Good bedtime? Nope. Everyone happy? Yep. Will tomorrow a.m. suck? nope. Why? Banana in the car, no hairbrush. Kid up and gone in 10 minutes. Ideal? no. Passable? yep. Happy? yep. As soon as I was able to make my own standards (I CAN do it, I CHOOSE not to sometimes) and could use my middle finger to my own hard-wired perfectionism, I found happy. You can too. When others judge me (and I know they do) I think, hmmmm, do I want to have a hard life? That's what they offer with their perfect ways. No way, Jose. We get er done and have fun. Way better.
If your dd wants to be in sports, it's cool to let her off the hook now and again for the morning events. She's a great help to you getting the others ready the rest of the days, but she probably needs to feel like a kid sometimes too. You might owe her a morning off, no? If she's talking about quitting, it might be to save the family the hassle of the loss of her care--that's pretty heavy for a teen. (coming from someone who gave up a lot to be the second-mom at home ---and resented her own mom for it)
This is exactly how things are run here too. DS doesn't wants to wear PJs to daycare? ok. will i be judged? probably. Why don't I care? because I don't want a morning fight, especially on days that his dad picks him up for the night. His last thoughts of me shouldn't be screaming panicky mom...it should be happy loving mommy.
Once I found my middle finger (figuratively of course), things started clicking into place.