Somewhere in the midst of this past week, filled with exciting client meetings, pitches, crash-course accounting, and just about no sleep I saw this picture

and gasped out loud.

“What?” Brad asked.

“Oh, nothing – just a picture of Benjamin. I miss him.”

It’s not like I haven’t seen him. Our routine is the same but there is an excitement he can sense and things have been a hair on the wild side over the past seven days.

So then I took a moment and scrolled through the rest of the pictures of my defiantly, spirited son – who never fails to impress me.

With his fierce strength

soft heart

and his sense of humor

A few minutes after we took these, Benjamin gulped down the rest of his hot chocolate and we went to his big boy hair appointment. At some point, I hope I washed his face.

I don’t remember.

What I do remember about that day – just days before I took on what feels like having a second child (my own business) – is having all of the time in the world to just be with him. And although this week has been a crazy one, things will settle down soon and I will have the freedom to be at that little man’s disposal. If I am sick. I am sick. If he is sick. I stay home. If his school is closed, he comes to work with me. Family first. Always. And without guilt.

If you have daydreams about your own escape from cubicle nation leave a comment and you’ll be entered to win a copy of Escape from Cubicle Nation by Pamela Slim.

Escape from Cubicle Nation is one of the only books I’ve found that absolutely inspires and rings true about what you should or should not do before quitting your day job. I’ll give you one hint – it’s not for the faint of heart and you need a plan. Don’t just jump out there without a safety net. Read her book. Plenty of answers and guidance.

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1. How to escape a bad date.
2. Do day care bugs ever end?
3. Am I Single Mother By Choice?

***Crisis Management Update***

Two words – Thomas sheets.

Original Post

For the past three nights Benjamin has insisted upon sleeping in my bed.

Suddenly, after two years of sleeping in his own room, he wants to sleep in mommy’s bed. Last night, I went up and soothed him back down – four times – four times! Finally, I gave up and brought him downstairs.

Could this be a blessing in disguise? With Benjamin in my bed every night it would keep me from letting a man into my bed – prevent any flings with unworthy bedmates.

Or is it a minor crisis? What’s with this sudden need to sleep with me? How do I break the cycle? And what if I do meet someone, a potential boyfriend or even a fling? Future Alaina definitely won’t want Benjamin in my bed.

My co-sleeping pro and con list

The Pros:

• He doesn’t wake up in the middle of the night, which means solid sleep for moi.
• We get that physical bonding time, I’ve heard it’s especially important for working moms.
• I get to hear him breathing and snuggle up to his little cheek – pure bliss.
• If he sleeps in my bed every night there’s no way a man will ever get in there (could be a pro).

The Cons:

• I can’t clean my room, usually I clean after his bed time. My room is TRASHED.
• What if he has some weird mommy neediness issues later on.
• If he sleeps in my bed every night there’s no way a man will ever get in there (could be a con).

What should I do? I have to turn to all of you on this one … I mean, without a husband around why not just sleep with my kid?

Related posts:

1. Sleep deprivation is a cruel, cruel thing.
2. He’s back.
3. Boyfriend + toddler + work = tired single mama

I picked up Benjamin Friday night.

He saw the car pull up my Mom’s driveway and stood there in disbelief. Could it be, could it be Mommy’s car? When he spotted me behind the wheel, his little mouth dropped open and just stayed open … hanging there as he ran to me in a stoic force of energy that only a two-year-old can harness.

“Mama!!! Maaaammmmmaa!!”

Big, deep hugs and lots of laughing and kisses ever since. It’s been a phenomenol weekend. And he hasn’t thrown a tantrum once. Not once. Oh, and that talking thing – you know when they say the babbles suddenly turn into sentences? It’s happening. Awesome by the way – when your little human starts spouting thoughts. Can’t wait to find out what’s in his little head …

And I’m thinking visits to Grandma’s more often might not be such a bad idea.

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Mankind’s media landscape has been controlled by men since the first printing press spit out a bible. Oh, and if you haven’t heard – you’re a rib.

Now it’s our turn

We are lifting the black curtains, inviting other families into our lives and are finding, above all, that we’re not alone. Stereotypes, perhaps you had one about single moms before reading my blog, are vanishing, walls are coming down and we’re finally speaking to each other about our fears, our joys, our losses and our victories – or about what our kid wiped on the wall last night. Regardless of what the topic, Mom blogs are a strong voice for women every where.

And now we have a matriarch – Heather B. Armstrong, or Dooce, as millions now know her.

The first mom blogger propelled into the national spotlight, Armstrong bears the brunt of mommy blog criticism. Now that her blog is rumored to earn her family $40,000 a month in advertising, the critics are even harsher – some say she is exploiting her daughter for fame and fortune. Keep in mind Armstrong has written candidly about everything in her life since 2001, before she even had a family.

She answered her critics this weekend in a profound letter to, Leta, her four-year-old.

“I have every reason to believe that one day you will look at the thousands of pages I have written about my love for you, the thousands of pages other women have written about their own children, and you’re going to be so proud that we were brave enough to do this. We are an army of educated mothers who have finally stood up and said pay attention, this is important work, this is hard, frustrating work and we’re not going to sit around on our hands waiting for permission to do so. We have declared that our voices matter.

You are a part of this movement, you and all of the other kids whose mothers are sitting at home right now writing tirelessly about their experiences as mothers, the love and frustration and madness of it all. And I think one day you will look at all of this and pump your fist in the air.“

Thanks Dooce. Your blog makes me laugh and cry … thank you a million times over for paving the way for the rest of us. And thanks to my readers for bearing with me as I find my voice in this little thing we call the blogosphere. I’m fairly certain this is just the beginning.

My blog is about to get quite a little makeover. I hope you like it! And yes, there will be room for advertising (I’ve had requests already) and no, they won’t be ugly or tasteless. And if anyone ever accuses me of exploiting my son I’ll just breath, sigh and then e-mail them a link to their daughter’s Facebook page.

For all of you who are also mommy bloggers, here’s an article you might enjoy, “Top 5 Reasons Why Mom Blogs are the Blogs to Watch.”

[Thanks to Random and Rachel for sending me the stories for this entry...and the pic is from the Wall Street Journal]

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1. Destructivo Strikes Again! Super Mommy Limps Away for Nap.
2. Hey, mommy…is that a man?

After Benjamin spends 36 hours with daddy I usually spend 48 hours repairing the damage. He’s extra needy and extra disobedient.

For example, I got home from work last night. Benjamin sees me – freaks out – and won’t let go. I seriously have to pee holding him in my arms while his dad fumbles around gathering up his stuff to head back to his girlfriend’s. Same scene every single week.

“It’s okay baby, I’m here, I’m here. Let daddy hold you for a second so mommy can change.” Nope. He proceeds to hold me in a death grip until his dad leaves. Sad for daddy, but what can I do? My kid and I are inseparable…

And then it’s time for damage control. Instead of hanging around the house (that he’s been stuck in all day with dad) we hop in the car for a super fun outing … last night it was house hunting and mountain climbing.

Tonight I picked him up from day care. Happy kid for approximately 45 minutes and then it begins. Hell. Toddler – Mommy hell. He’s been with dad for two days hell.

I was having a crappy day anyway. Tired, worn out. One word – progesterone. I’m usually much more up beat during the first two weeks of my cycle. TMI guys but hey – it’s the progesterone talking – so if you don’t like it … well, piss off! And, ladies, if you don’t know the difference between progesterone and estrogen look it up. You’ll freak out and say – “Oh, that’s why I wanted to kill someone yesterday.”

Anyway, I digress. Back to Benjamin and then I’ll get to the Barnes & Noble lady.

He doesn’t want to eat dinner so we head outside. And then…he takes off in a full sprint. He doesn’t just run down the driveway. No, he runs all the way down the sidewalk, up into the neighbors yard and then up the iron steps leading to the second story apartment. Yes, all the way up. His little fingers were just about to dip into mystery neighbor’s teeny tiny flower pots when I grabbed him.

I had to keep a very straight face because I wanted to laugh. I did. It was funny. These kinds of things make me laugh. I couldn’t care less what my neighbors think. I don’t have time to care. But I kept my straight, firm and mean mommy face as I carried him all the way back to the car and strapped him down. He’s screaming his brains out at this point and I’m ready to burst into tears.

Then we head to Barnes and Noble. Guaranteed fun and it’s right around the corner. Plus there was a new book I really, really wanted to buy – Rockabye: From Wild to Child.

I walk straight up to the customer service desk because I couldn’t find it on the shelf. There was a man behind the counter. Long hair, sexy all around, but he was helping someone else. I took my spot and waited. And then, she appeared, “Can I help you with anything?”

Sigh. She looks miserable. You know, those miserable people? The people you just want to punch because they’re just wasting space. (Progesterone). Anyway, she is one of those – clearly – because here I am holding an adorable two-year-old and she doesn’t even acknowledge that he’s there or that I am there for that matter.

Why can’t cute guy help me? Cute guy! Cute guy! Save me. But no.

“So what’s the title?” she asks.

“Rockabye.”

“How do you spell it?” Great. She’s also an idiot.

“R-o-c-k-a-b-y-e. It’s by Rebecca Woolf.”

“Here it is. From wild to child,” she’s reading this loudly as I’m holding my now fussing two-year-old, my hair disheveled, we’re both a dirty, gooey mess. She goes on to read the description, “A young woman discovers she is pregnant and gives up her wild ways for a child.” I imagine she does this every day. Just reads embarrassing descriptions out loud to mortify people who never buy books.

“Yes! That’s it.” I’m just pissed and then…

“Well we don’t have it. I can order it for you.” Bitch. (Progesterone).

“No, thanks, I’ll just try Amazon.” We immediately vere right to the kids section leaving her and cute guy behind.

P.S.

Benjamin and I had quite a wild time in the little kids section. SO much fun. They had a Thomas track set up. Hours of free entertainment…fyi. Do you have any great free outing ideas?

And check out the book and Rebecca’s blogs: Girls Gone Child and Straight from the Bottle.

P.P.S.

Sorry if this post is a bit “bitchy” on my part. Hopefully I’ll feel better tomorrow.

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I have decided that I absolutely hate play dates. Each one I’ve hosted or been too has been with women who aren’t really my friends, just acquaintances and now that I have three under my belt I’ve concluded to never attend one again. Okay, maybe I shouldn’t say never, but I just don’t think I’m the play date kind of mommy. When I get together with my mommy friends we have a blast, what I’m referring to are legitimate “play dates” and oh, are they awful.

Why do moms set these up? Enlighten me. I actually tried to host a single mom playdate but the two moms were no shows. One wrote me an e-mail, this had all been arranged on Craigslist, saying she was too nervous to actually spend time with a stranger. At least she was honest. I was nervous too. At the two “play dates” I’ve hosted I felt like it was just a who’s the better mommy contest? And felt like it was kind of a test – is it about the mom’s getting along or the kids getting along? What is more important? So much pressure for one little date. I actually think it would be easier to go out on a blind date with a man than have a date with a mother who I’m not super close with.

What are good play dates like? I do enjoy these women’s company but it just felt awkward. Please give me some tips.

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