Flying Solo

Last week, I had the girls to myself while 1977 attended a conference in Minneapolis.

Single mothers, I don’t know how you do it. I am in awe of you.

Every night, I was in bed as soon as 2008 stopped peeping, and every morning, I grumbled when 2010 woke me at sometime around 5 a.m. 

There were no blog posts. I may have seen my browser every day, but there was no Facebook and no Twitter. I did not pick up a book.

Who the hell was that?  Morning to night, these children devoured my creative energy.

Now that 1977 is back and I’m deep into Sandel’s newest book, I wonder how I shut down my entire being for an entire week. And, I confess, I am dreading a repeat performance in two weeks, when 1977 heads to Utah. Following his return, we will be chaining him to a wall in the basement and offering three meals a day a la the three ladies in 9-to-5.

And, single moms, I know how you do it. It’s like any other aspect of parenting: you just DO, because you have no choice. But my hat’s off to you.