How to Survive Day Nine of My Eleven Day Stint as a Single Parent

Have Rosa and Dave bring Jack's Prime over for dinner. I get to spend all day looking forward to burgers and sweet potato fries, and Samson gets to fall all over himself showing off for company. Dave is no longer a person, he is now a Samson-flipping-over machine.

It helped IMMENSELY that today was a nanny-share day (one of the last--sob!). And this amazing weather has given us lots of time to spend at the park, taking toys from unsuspecting kids and insisting on going down the big boy slide. Adorable as always, Samson has taken to running around the park yelling "Nooooooooo!" at the top of his lungs. For no reason. Hilarious. Also, it turns out he's a close talker.

Where the Wild Things Are (My House)

Day eight of my eleven-day stint as a single mom is finally coming to a close. We knew when we had Samson that Max would have to travel some of the time for work, but this trip is really getting tough to handle. I don't mean to hit below the belt--Max really doesn't travel all that much, and he works so hard for our family, and it's important that I remember this when Samson is chasing the cat, wielding an ice cream scoop, he only napped for 45 minutes, and the cavalry's not coming for three more days.

Sigh.

As with every other stage of his development that come and gone int he last 17 months, I will miss this curly-haired demon, this emptier or kitchen drawers and chaser of house pets. He's discovering how fast and far his feet can take him, and his most urgent business is to find out what is inside of each and every drawer/box/closet/cupboard. It is imperative that he taste every kitchen utensil, and find out how each toy sounds as he drops it down the stairs. Being 17 months old is serious business.

That said, SWEET LORD I need a break. Lucky for me, I have a group of super awesome girlfriends and we've scheduled a trip to Palm Springs in May. A swimming pool, a fridge full of booze and BBQ. trust me, I'm counting the days. Hell, I'm counting the minutes.

Doggie update: Nanna had a down day, but she's still doing OK. But the real news is my new found doggie freedom. Ozzy, AKA the dog who can't be alone, has finally learned to be alone. I've been leaving him the backyard while I run errands and what not for the last week or so, and it's been working out really well. It's strange, but it almost feels as though I have a normal dog. Huh.

I'm Simultaneously Horrified and Fascinated

Good lord, that child is exhausting.

EX. AUST. ING.

In other news, Hamlet 2 is the best movie ever. Don't believe me? Go on, have a taste.

Yes, that's Elizabeth Shue in the audience. COMIC GOLD.

Correction

Before I start getting emails from hostile grandparents about my previous post, let me add the following words:

-buh bye (he's destined to be a stewardess)
-da da (diaper)

And there are probably a dozen more that I am blanking on. Plus, he woke up this morning asking for an apple. And I know matos (hebrew for airplane) is right around the corner.

For shame

What a sad sack lack of blogging. I have no excuse.

Updates:

Nanna is doing so well! For a few days last week, she was getting worse and worse. After lots and lots of soul searching and some talks with a few close friends, we decided to put her down this week. She must have over heard me, because almost over night she began eating more, playing more, and just felling better in general. The lungs are definitely suffering, but she's still loving life so we're just taking it one week at a time. BIG THAKS to everyone for your emails, thoughts, and support. This whole thing still sucks, but it's a little better than it was a week ago.

Samson is some kind of jibber jabber machine. He's not speaking any language that I know, well, not much anyway. It rare for him to not be going on and on about something, and he seems very knowledgeable and full of conviction about whatever it is he's saying. Hmmm.

Current verified word list in real languages spoken by other people besides him:

-feesh (fish)
-shoosh (shoes and/or socks)
-jeesh (cheese)
-yo yah (yogurt)
-wuff (dog)
-at (cat)
-nook (book)
-milk (milk)
-agua (water in spanish)
-ba ba (dad, or aba in hebrew)
-ma ma (snack, and/or possibly mom)
-blehleb (banana--real language factor is questionable, but it's a very consistent blehleb)
-bup (up)
-alp (help)

Also, he has started picking my nose. So proud.

In other news, a friend got me to go to Jazzercise with her last night. I hurt all over, and I've got a aural Rhianna floaters. Imagine my embarrassment when I learned that you don't have to wear a leotard. Ahem.

Weekend Warriors

Another single mom weekend for me; it's boys' weekend in Tahoe. I learned from the last one (the rain, teething, and a crummy mood made for not so much fun), and have made all sorts of plans to keep both Samson and myself busy as freaking BEES.

Today we met a gaggle of lady friends and babies at Golden Gate Park for some tea and pastries and incredibly brazen squirrels. Then we had lunch at Park Chalet. The weather laughed in our faces, but we persevered. And Samson--holy crap, what a well behaved child. No nap, more confinement than he prefers, his first taste of crab salad, and still he had a smile on his face the whole time. Big ups to Ash for playing entertainer, and to all the gals for spending a Saturday with a ticking toddler time bomb.

Tomorrow, we host playgroup here at home. I hope the other mommies like Nilla Wafers and raisins.

I used to have a blog...

A beautiful week of sunshine means more outside time and preventing Samson from eating eucalyptus pods and less time blogging. Hooray!

DST is RAD

So even though it's still pretty light out, Samson goes to bed in his normal 6:30-7 ish time frame with no problems thanks to my genius weekend project and skillful installation techniques. He wakes up a few times between 8 and midnight, thanks to a couple of new teeth that are trying to free themselves from their gummy prison. And then, my awesome little boy who is still awesome even when he wakes up at his normal time of 6:30 am, was extra awesome and slept. until. 8:15.

I love room darkening roller blinds, I love daylight savings time, and I love getting to sleep and extra hour and 45 minutes on Monday morning.

Oh, hey, I forgot to ask...

Hey, hormones? It's been 16 months now since I gave birth. Do you you think you could let me get through one hospital drama, sex crime drama, or dog food commercial without crying? That would be awesome. Thanks. A lot.

Walkin' the dogs

Shhh. Don't tell anyone, but it's been dry for a couple of days now. And it's supposed to stay dry for a few more days. Let's not talk about it anymore so we don't jinx it.

When I'm out walking the dogs, I'm used to being stopped by people who want to know about Ozzy; what sort of dog he is, why does he make that funny moo-ing noise, etc. But people must be able to sense that Nanna is sick--I was stopped three times this morning by people asking about her, saying how pretty and sweet she is, so shocked to learn that she's 13 this year. And I think she really liked the attention. Poor, skinny, sleepy girl.

Fasten Your Seatbelts

So. That whole "back to more regular posting next week" didn't seem to go too well. Man, you guys are really bad at finger crossing.

Anxiety countdown: 51 days until we fly to New York for my brother's wedding. That's 51 days to accomplish the following tasks:

1. Find a really cute dress to wear to the wedding.

2. Loose weight so I can fit in the really cute dress.

3. Find an adorable outfit for Samson, preferably one that involves and argyle sweater vest.

4. Figure out HOW THE HELL we're going to survive a flight to New York with my demon child. WHAT WERE WE THINKING? If anyone here is planning to fly to New York in April, avoid row 12. Like the freaking plague.

5. Learn how to stop referring to the boy as "Doofus." I may think it's endearing, but the outsiders no likey.

Hello Again

Everything is fine here. My lack of posting is due to a combination of busy, lazy, more lazy, and unmotivated. And lazy.

Can't even blame it on the rain. It's been pretty nice this week, plenty of dog walking and ball-throwing in the back yard. We even hit a few parks, aren't we special. And believe it or not, I actually did a couple of social things this week, and one one of them was without the baby. Shocking!

I hope to get my ass in gear and be back to more regular posting next week. Fingers crossed!

It's like WWE but with blueberries and goldfish crackers

A friend hosted a play date today for a couple of us gals and our unruly children. Four boys, from 16 months to 4 years... Note to self: have a girl next time. You should have seen those kids vying for this one toy hammer. It was like throwing a bag of Wonder Bread into a duck pond. But with whining.

Samson was the youngest of the group, so it was one of those opportunities for me to see my future with him in tidy little stages. Observe:

Little Friend #1 is about six months older than Samson. He was doing amazing things like putting the correct shapes in the shape sorter.

Little friend #2 is ten months older than Samson. He's learning about sharing, asks for help, and has interesting ways of greeting other toddlers. Like chest bumps.

Little friend #3 is about three years older than Samson, and I've always been weirded out by him him simply because he does things that Samson will surely never do, like speak in complete sentences and build entire systems of wooden railroad tracks. Hanging out with kids his age reminds me that I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT KIDS and HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO RAISE ONE.

Every time I stop to catch my breath, I look back and see that 3, 6, 15 months have passed and the baby is still intact. Sometimes, he's even smiling. And usually he's doing something new and amazing that I never thought I'd see, like GIVING BEAR HUGS and GOING DOWN THE SLIDE BY HIMSELF.

I am in a perpetual state of shock.

Pass the syrup

Apparently, Mardis Gras is called Pancake Day in the UK. Or at least, that's what NPR told me, and NPR don't lie.

Let's learn more about this day of flapjacks, shall we?

Shrove Tuesday, also known as pancake day, is the last day before lent, so everyone eats pancakes.

OK, if I were silly enough to actively practice a religion that made me give stuff up for 47 days, I might gorge myself on red meat and alcohol on Shrove Tuesday, or maybe laziness and porn. But pancakes? I can take 'em or leave 'em.

French toast, however, is a totally different story.

I hate the rain

I'm pretty sure it's never going to stop raining. Samson and I will never leave the house again, and we will both eventually go crazy and do something awful like shave the cat.

It's been a hell of the weekend. I totally jumped the gun and put Samson to bed at 6 tonight, about an hour before his regular bedtime, but I just COULDN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE. I needed him to be doing something that didn't require my involvement, and sleeping is about the only thing on that list right now. So he's been down there, talking to himself in protest, and I know the talking will escalate to a complaint, then to a yell, then to a scream...any. minute. now.

I can just picture him running his pacifier along the crib bars like in some old prison movie. Rat-a-tat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat.

Oh, all right. It's not all bad. During one of the few five minute breaks in the rain, we went out to the backyard to blow bubbles (bub-oh, so damn cute he is), and Samson totally discovered puddles and how jumping and splashing in them is totally the most fun thing ever. That was awesome.

But the rest of it sucked.

This would be heaven except for the dog farts

Max and his party animal friends are on their way to Amsterdam for a wedding at the Norwegian consulate. Samson is asleep. I've got Chinese food delivery on the way and there's a Sharks game on in HD tonight.

Awesome awesome awesome!

Also, it's not raining. Not even a little bit.

Of course I will miss Max. He will be very far away. Too far away to, say, hog the TV with his Call of Duty ridiculousness. Or to, say, hog the entire bed with arms and legs and what not. I'm just saying.

No Gnus is Good Gnus

Nothing to report. Hooray for You Tube!

Sickly Samson

Samson had his first fever over the long weekend. It wasn't nearly as bad as I had anticipated; basically he was just hot to the touch. And really really cuddly. Actually, Saturday night was pretty rad.

The fever went down by Sunday afternoon, but so did his cuteness levels. He had become cranky, clingy, and whiny, and refused to eat or drink. He wobble when he walked and he had developed a lovely rash on his chest and back.

At the doctor's office on Monday, he was diagnosed with a cold. Nothing special, just a cold with some fluid in his head causing the balance problems. I've never heard of a cold with a fever and a rash, but I didn't attend 4 years of medical school either.

It was so great having Max around to help care for Samson, and it was hard to send him off to work today knowing what kind of day we were in for: more torrential rains (have you heard? it's the end of days over here) and a sick toddler. Now that the day is over and he's gone to bed, I can look back and say that it really wasn't that bad. Two naps, he ate and drank very well, and played outside when it wasn't raining. Not that I'm not counting the minutes until he can return to the nanny share on Thursday...

Wow, all this rain is totally spooky

I've had plenty of things to complain about in the last handful of months. Plenty of things. The weather has not been one of them. This has been among the driest, warmest, most enjoyable winters that I can remember. Very little rain, very few crappy days. It's been awesome.

And then it started raining. Intermittently at first--a couple days here, a day or two there. Not enough to get all hung up about it. And every time it sprinkled, somebody would comment about oh, we really need the rain. This is great. And to that I say, it's far too late for that. We're already going to have a drought, so why pretend? Why rain at all? Let's enjoy global warming and all of its sunny warm winterful glory.

It's been raining since about Tuesday night, and damn cold to boot. Tough to stomach when your toddler repeatedly runs up to back door, bangs on it as he turns to look at you, then bursts into tears before you can even say no or explain that it's too cold or too wet to go outside right now. On the plus side, he's learned a new manipulation skill. He knows that we all need coats and shoes in order to go outside, so he's stated bring my my sweatshirt or maybe a tiny converse from time to time, looking at me expectantly. Who can say no to that?

That Other Thing I've Been Doing

I've been keeping a secret from you. I feel just awful about it. And I think it's time to come clean.

I've been cheating on Extra Super Fantastic with my new blog, Etsy Cool. There, I said it.

Wo ho! What's that, you say? You're sharing your intimate thoughts and feelings, the details of your family life and the absurdities that come along with being you at SOME OTHER BLOG?

Not exactly. Etsy Cool is a shopping blog that finds the coolest items for sale on Etsy.com and brings them all to one place, sort of a best-of-the-best list. You won't find ramblings about Samson's love of bluetooth ear pieces or sad stories about sick dogs. You won't even find a link to one of the most hilarious videos ever. (Don't worry, you'll still totally find all that crap here.)

But you will find Valentine's Day cards, pompom hats, and cat toys.

You're welcome!