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Holed Up

mssinglemama — Sat, 27 Feb 2010 01:21:37 +0000

Benjamin came home with a headache on Tuesday.

Which turned into a fever on Tuesday night.

Which turned into puking on Wednesday night.

Which turned into… ahhh, never mind.

The sick fairies spared John Bear and I the vomiting but left us with severe headaches and congestion.

Benjamin pukes like a champ by the way. It frightens me. It’s like the kid is built or designed for college parties. As soon as he feels a squirm in his stomach he runs to the bathroom, puts both hands on the toilet seat, braces himself and then…

Like a pro.

I can hear his future friends cheering him on now as he emerges from the bathroom and declares, “Give me another one!”

I can sit here and hope that’s just a vision, but I’m bracing myself for a time in Benjamin’s life when he’s working hard and playing hard, like his mother used to be. Used to be. Now I can’t have more than two beers without wanting to call it a night and head home.

One shot of tequila is all it takes to make me forget my limits. And then boom – I wake up with a hang over that lasts 48 hours. I’m a light-weight now, what can I say? Drinking and I just don’t get along anymore.

At some point this week, being stuck in the house with my little sick, puking goblin I tested out a new camera lens on my fridge. In this winter darkness of never ending snow and flu, my refrigerator is the brightest thing in the house. An impromptu scrap book, my fridge is where I stick memories I unearth while cleaning or dusting in odd places.

There’s the photo of my sister and I. Our faces warm from spending days by the pool at our apartment in Texas. We were in the back seat of a friend’s car when I took that, moments away from hitting a bar in Austin.

My Athens block is holding us up, near some notes Anna sent me just a few weeks ago. Love my sister. So much.

To the right there’s the picture of John Bear and I, the one I tore it out of a scratch copy of Ms. Single Mama Uncensored. I look like I’m going to maul him or something but I still like that picture. Taken on such a good weekend.

On the bottom right is a picture of my father’s family – my dad is one of the little guys in the front. My grandmother, a single mother to four boys during the 50′s and 60′s is on the top right. I never met her. Like my father, she died of cancer when she was 50. Damn the cancer.

And on the front is Mr. Germ Doctor, always packing a new illness to infect Mommy with.

He hides them so well. The germs. But they’re in there…

[BTW: Those cute Lois Lane magnets are on Amazon.]

Sunday Divine

mssinglemama — Sun, 03 May 2009 13:41:19 +0000

I am not a church goer and may never be.

But on every Sunday there is a moment of divine intervention in our apartment when this cottage cheese pancake makes it to my lips. Crispy, fluffy, and perfectly light they have actually brought tears to my eyes before.

My parents made them for us when we were little and I’ve been making them for Benjamin for as long as he’s been old enough to eat them. I don’t even put syrup on them, just powdered sugar. And when they hit our plates they look like this…

I wanted to share the recipe because making these pancakes is a little secret to my happiness. When the world is constantly spinning around you, when you’re not sure what will happen next or how you’ll make it – the little things save you.

So here you have it, one of the things on Earth that always makes the rest of the world disappear.

[Don't let the cottage cheese part scare you, once cooked you can't even tell it's in there, so don't even bother telling the kids if they're older and hate the cottage cheese].

SIDE NOTES: if you think by posting a recipe I am avoiding telling you about some other things, you’d be absolutely right. I just don’t want to jinx them. Also, if you live in Ohio or nearby, check out my two upcoming events. You’re all invited.

Keep voting on your favorite necklace, I’ll be announcing the winner and unveiling the final necklace this Friday.

Click over for the recipe.

Cottage Cheese Pancakes

from The Joy of Cooking

Cottage cheese gives these thick pancakes a tender sponge, which, when just off the griddle, is soft and almost puddinglike. Although the pancakes will lose their puff and puddingness as they cool, their sweet wholesome flavor will remain. Lightly butter, oil or spray your griddle if needed and preheat it over medium heat.

Whisk together in a larger bowl:

1 1/3 cup all-purpose flour
1/3 cup sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon or pinch of ground nutmeg (optional)
1/4 teaspoon of salt

Whisk together in another bowl:

1 cup milk
1 cup full-fat or low-fat cottage cheese
3 tablespoons butter, melted
2 larger egg yolks
1 teaspoon vanilla

Pour the wet ingredients over the dry ingredients and gently whisk them together, mixing just until combined. Beat until peaks are stiff but not dry then fold into the batter:

2 large egg whites

The batter will be thick and bubbly – similar to cake batter. Spoon 1/3 cup batter onto the griddle for each pancake, nudging the batter into rounds. These are thick and might take a little longer to cook than most other pancakes. Cook until the top of each pancake is starting to dry around the edges.

NOTE: use syrup with care because these pancakes are better without, the taste carries itself. I always top mine with butter and then powdered sugar.

His first and his last.

mssinglemama — Thu, 19 Mar 2009 05:25:33 +0000

Because today was Benjamin’s first and his last third birthday and because I didn’t buy him a single present in Austin I spent my lunch break on a mission.

My mission was to buy everything I would need to transform his room from a nursery/toddler room…

[Click to continue, although, be warned - there are TONS of photos in this post and a video - although I think you won't believe what you see. I still can't believe I pulled it off]

to a big boy’s room.

I only had 45 minutes to do it because the birthday boy himself was patiently waiting for me at his day care. Where he looked a little confused when I arrived shouting something about this thing called a “birthday”.

When we got home I told him there was a big surprise up in his room and so up we marched… and I, of course, turned on the camera. I’m so glad I did.

While he played in his new room I ran downstairs to wrap presents, order pizza and put the cake in the oven.

Then two of our favorite friends, Justin and his son, came over. While Benjamin hung out with his buddy in his cool new pad, Justin helped me move all of the furniture wedged in the hallway and at the bottom of the stairs down to the basement.

Benjamin didn’t seem to notice.

Then I attempted to cover the cake with whipped cream. (This picture is blurry because I was laughing so hard.)

But some sprinkles and candles turned the cake into the perfect Ugly Cake.

And then it happened.

Benjamin turned three.

For the first and the last time.

Hard to believe how much he’s grown. We don’t stop growing when we’re adults either… at least I hope you haven’t.

That would be boring as hell.

Happy Birthday Mr. Benjamin, may you always be as free as you are now.

Oh snap. This is hard.

mssinglemama — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 23:58:47 +0000

I haven’t had a cigarette in 48 hours.

Feel free to cheer me on. I need it. Because on the inside this is how I feel:

Also on my list of shit that’s really messing with me:

Benjamin is sick as hell. He’s had a fever for three days. Now I’m feeling sick.
I had to work from home today. Huge projects due. I’m frustrated. Wishing I could do it all and knowing I can’t.
I just opened iPhoto and realized that I lost over one month of photos including tons of pictures of Benjamin. At least my favorites are on Flickr, but still, this is not cool.

I apologize for my griping.

But I really am completely pre-occupied right now. Can’t lie. If you’re looking for an awesome question to ponder check out my latest post for WeTV on the things I would never do. I’m really curious to hear yours.

I hope smoking is on your list. And I promise to be back at it and in better spirits within the next 48 hours.

Speaking of smoking – what are your vices? We all have them don’t we?

To lift your spirits:

mssinglemama — Thu, 11 Dec 2008 02:24:24 +0000

Slightly random but cheerful stuff to make you smile…

Here’s an article I wrote for Single Minded Women.com on being a single mom over the holidays. I wrote this weeks ago – hadn’t read it again until now. And, it actually just cheered me up. Odd. Me cheering myself up. Any hoo… I’m completely insane – just ignore that part – and hopefully you’ll find some great tips on how to get through the holidays while being solo and childfull.

And this, my lovelies, is an absolutely fantastic piece writen by Kristin on Work It Mom. She found a study actually proving that single moms spend just as much time, if not more time with their kids, than married moms. Reading this just gave me some kind of closure I didn’t even know I needed.

A picture of our Christmas tree, which I managed to actually get up early this year. Yes, now, is early. I caught Benjamin gazing into the lights the other night – mesmerized. A few hours later he was smacking it with a pillow though, so I’m not quite sure how he feels about our new friend.

On a completely unrelated note (did I already tell you I’m crazy), there’s a production company out in fancy schmancy Los Angeles looking for an instant family. If you know a childless man or woman who is marrying a single parent with kids (the more the merrier) who would like to be on national TV e-mail ally_weinberg@pietown.tv. You can live anywhere in the U.S.

And last but not least…

a Merry Christmas to you all from my adorable and very practical toddler (sorry I held the camera sideways and I can’t rotate it back around in iMovie without losing half of the picture).

Still priceless though and proof positive that two stockings are better than three!

UPDATE: He’s dressed like a girl (tights and a sparkle shirt) because he had just gotten home from his best friend Sydney’s house where he plays dress up. Can’t believe I left that out before. Um, yeah, crazy.

O’ the stores outside are frightful…

mssinglemama — Fri, 05 Dec 2008 04:17:10 +0000

Shopping with Benjamin is like pulling teeth.

Shopping without Benjamin, as a nearly full-time single mom, is nearly impossible.

Stores in general just scare the living shit out of me. If you don’t believe me, read this.

So I’m doing 100% of my Christmas shopping online this year (I’m at least going to try my hardest).

Besides, now that he’s 2.9, sneaking things into the cart past Benjamin’s watchful little eyes is a lot tougher. On Monday night I hopped online to dive right into my Christmas shopping and check out what I found for Benjamin – a Melissa and Doug easel for $34.99 on Amazon, normally priced at $59.99.

I also bought the paper and paint kit for $20.58. The shipping was free and all of it landed on my doorstep on Wednesday afternoon!

Have I told you how much I love the internet lately?

Well, I do. Can’t imagine living without it. And have you discovered Etsy.com yet? All hand-made stuff, largely from mothers who stay at home. Unbelievable. I can not stop surfing that site.

Here’s a set of four mini tins for $10.00 from Magenta Designs. Aren’t these adorable? You could put cute, heartfelt notes inside and give them to your best friends. She also has the sweetest little magnets.

Have you found anything awesome online yet this season? Share the sites you love and the treasures you’ve found, it will save me some browsing.

A cramp in my style…

mssinglemama — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 17:35:01 +0000

Stress or maybe just too much to do – constantly running myself in a million directions – has weakened my immune system. Now I have some kind of nasty, nasty virus.

So here I am, flat on my back, unable to walk across a room without severe pain from this nasty whatever it is. My mother is here, along with her boyfriend, Larry, and Mr. Man. They all came up last night for our big election night out, long planned ahead of time – me knowing it would be the greatest night of our lives, one we would never forget.

We went – I sat – barely moving, watching them all enjoying themselves through a foggy haze and watching our now President-Elect Obama sweep state after state. We came home early and I curled up in bed with Mr. Man to watch his victory speech on my tiny laptop.

Now I’m still here in bed, still barely moving, while all three of them buzz around me. Mom cleaning, Mr. Man fixing my dryer and Larry doing who knows what to my yard. Benjamin is on his way back from his father’s this afternoon. Mr. Man will be gone by then but Mom will stay, she’ll stay she says – until I get back on my feet.

Usually I resist help, refuse it all together or deny that I need it – but today, unable to muster the energy to get out of my bed – I can’t stop them. It’s just so hard to believe my quiet house is filled with voices – adult voices – help.

The Dirty Laundry.

mssinglemama — Thu, 23 Oct 2008 12:05:37 +0000

He shows up every Tuesday morning to pick up Benjamin.

I gave up asking him about the massive credit card debt of his I had to assume or asking him to help out with Benjamin’s medical bills long ago. Instead I just brief him on Benjamin’s little happenings of the week – he doesn’t know because he never calls. Then I leave for work… a few hours later they take off for my ex’s town, my hometown, about an hour and a half from here. Less than 24 hours later, when I’m at work on Wednesday he brings him back and they spend the afternoon here in my (Benjamin and I’s) house.

Every Wednesday night I take stock of the damage.

Kitchen. Trashed. Living room. Even worse. I don’t even walk up to Benjamin’s room, I always save this for later so as not to send my body and mind into complete convulsions. But it’s just as bad. I’m not completely innocent here – much of the mess in my place is definitely mine. But every Wednesday night instead of coming home to a few dishes put away or maybe a swept floor, I come home with my mess on top of his.

There’s something you should know about me… I’m not a paranoid person. I don’t care that he’s here. I have nothing to hide. In fact, I like it, because I know my son is safe and sound in his home where he belongs. I don’t even mind that my ex helps himself to my coffee and my food.

But today I found evidence that he’s been doing his laundry here… he’s also been using the diapers I buy for Benjamin. Every little bit adds up and I’m not rolling in money. His child support his four percent of my income, it’s enough to cover Benjamin’s health insurance every month and a few groceries.

He can’t give me more because he his broke. But he could at least help me out.

So why am I sitting here feeling bad for this man because he can’t afford to do his own laundry or buy his own groceries? And why is part of me still so petrified of what will happen if I do say something? A fight. A blow out. In front of Benjamin. Something he never has to witness.

And people wonder why I’m so scared of falling in love again. My heart blinded my mind so severely in the past… and I’m still picking up the mess.

On a related note: Will you ever get married again? Take my latest poll.

More posts about my ex:

When is Daddy Going to Bail?
The Man in the Kitchen

P.S.

I’m sorry if yesterday’s post pissed some of you off… I can see why it makes me appear a tad arrogant (I wrote it with a few beers in my system). But I do think single moms are awesome and that I won’t ever apologize for…

“Is your blog your boyfriend?”, etc.

mssinglemama — Sat, 11 Oct 2008 18:37:34 +0000

Check out the Single Mom 10 Commandment’s, Part 2

…for my column at SingleMindedWomen.com.

And if you missed the Single Mom 10 Commandment’s, Part 1 here they are. Thanks again for helping me put these together with all of your comments to my post the Single Mom Rules to Live By.

—–

Benjamin and I are going to have our first photo shoot tomorrow!

A fantastic photographer I met a few weeks ago offered to snap some pictures of the two of us together. Can you believe that? I can’t. I’ve been scrambling to pick out a few outfits all day. Conservative, sexy or in between? I can’t decide. There’s a good chance the results will be plastered all over this website so… nerve wracking and incredibly exciting at the same time.

—–

Someone asked me if my blog was my boyfriend yesterday.

I said – “Yes!” without hesitation. This blog is my boyfriend. Not literally. I don’t make out with my blog. My blog doesn’t keep me warm at night and whisper sweet nothings into my ear. But my blog keeps me happy, occupied, makes me laugh and sometimes talks back. And the time I spend on this blog is equatable to the time one would spend on a relationship. So, yes, in that sense, this blog is my relationship. And I am completely fine with that. For the first time in a long time my life has been completely focused on the right things and this is one of them.

Is that nuts? I’m not sure… I’ve always been an extremely driven workaholic and writing has always been my passion. So it makes sense that blogging would naturally be such a fit for me. I think every single mom should have a hobby like this by the way – something that fills that void where a man could be… not that they should be there. More on this later, I’m sure…

Apocalypse Now?

mssinglemama — Thu, 09 Oct 2008 04:26:02 +0000

Or will it be next month?

Feels like it’s only a matter of time.

My little sister called me from the bar she works at in Virginia. Dave Matthews pops up every once in a while, it’s a hot spot.

“No one is here. It’s weird.” She says, her voice echoing amidst the empty tables and chairs. She and her husband are going to Iceland for a vacation next week. A country that is on the brink of filing for bankruptcy.

“I know.” I’ve got nothing to say that will make her feel better, “It’s happening isn’t it?” We can’t make it here anymore.

People aren’t shopping, aren’t eating out – freezing all spending. The government and us.

I went to a concert tonight. Death Cab for Cutie. Amazing.The band and the crowd. Everyone happy and satisfied. Places to sleep, jobs, food, beer. I’m hoping I’m wrong. That they’re wrong. But what if they’re not? No one really knows. And as a single mother, whose child support amounts to four percent of her income, I’m feeling very primal about dating right now.

Do I need a man?

Maybe.

Do I want a man?

Maybe.

I may need a man to punch some son-of-the-bitch in his face if he tries to steal my son’s food but I may want a man to tell me everything is going to be okay.

Anyone else feeling this way?

P.S.

This does not mean I’m going to hunt a man down just to serve up these requests – believe me – I’m not sold on the whole husband or man idea by any means. We’ll just have to make a commune of single parents. Anyone own an island? Let’s start plotting.

In the meantime, I’m going to take a karate class or something.

Back up reading (to keep you up at night) Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood.

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