Single parents – I applaud you.

Seriously, how do you do it? What uppers are you taking to have enough energy? What deal did you make with the devil to have the ability to juggle it all? How can you keep it all together?

I’ve spent this past week as a temporary single mom, with several more weeks of part-time single mom-dom ahead of me. Tonight is opening night for the play that Aaron is directing as part of the Columbus Fringe Festival, so this past week has been spent in technical and dress rehearsals after he leaves work. As soon as this show is finished, he’ll be spending 3-4 nights a week in Cincinnati for stage combat classes.

This has left me both dropping Cordy off with family and picking her up after work. Aaron still gets up with her in the morning so they can have some time together, but instead of the daddy-daughter bedtime routine, she has to deal with only me.

The house is a wreck. Cordy is a wreck. I’m a wreck. At this moment I should be mopping the kitchen floor where there was a juice spill this morning. I don’t have the energy. Cordy has been acting strange the past few days, too: not eating much, sobbing uncontrollably when I leave her alone, and protesting bedtime. I think it’s partially because she misses her daddy.

I’m in no way blaming Aaron. Theatre is what he wants to do for his career, and he keeps the day job to keep us afloat financially. I encourage him to keep working in theatre, and I hope someday he’ll be able to drop the day job. But until then, we’re simply going to have to deal with some difficult situations, and times when we can’t do all we want to. It’s a small price to pay in order for him to find happiness in his career.

So for now the house will remain a mess, the checkbook unbalanced, and I will simply try to keep up with what needs to be done.

One more thing: tomorrow Aaron has a second interview for a job with the state. The job is a more interesting position, offers the chance to stretch his creative skills, and best of all, pays so much more than his current one. It would make life much easier for us. (Just so you know, I’m not talking about Lexus-driving, hired help, designer handbag easier. More like not living paycheck-to-paycheck, maybe buying a new used car, paying off the credit cards easier.)

Please send any positive thoughts you can spare our way in the hopes that the interview will lead to a job offer.

It’s been awhile since I had a mean comment on my blog. So I was a little surprised when I saw this one today:

I am always amazed by you proud mother types. You seem to have this mentality that by being a mother that you’re some kind of super hero or something. You squeezed out a kid and now you take care of it. Big deal, people and other forms of life have been doing that since higher forms of life have evolved on earth. The average American produces 1,500 pounds of waste a year. You created something that will add to that, wow…what a hero you are.

The comment was in reference to this post. So, to M. Anonymous, AKA 216.55.112 in Livonia, MI, I say this: read the site, man. If you did, you’d know that I didn’t squeeze out a kid – she was cut out of me, thank you very much.

And do you tell that little rant to your mother? Thanks for life, mom, but you really shouldn’t have. I’m just creating more waste on this here planet and should have never been born. Well, anonymous, I couldn’t agree with you more on that one. Oh, and I only have one child, so our family is still at a -1 on the population scale. Don’t argue waste until we’re at +1, OK?

Truth is, a mom is a superhero. Creating and nurturing life may seem like a common, animalistic occurrence to you, but without moms of this world giving a damn and taking an interest in their children, the human race wouldn’t exactly be a higher form of life. Anyone else with me on this?

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And now, to some lighter fare: contests! The contest over at Red Stapler is nearing the end. Five more days to get your name in the hat for a chance to win your admission to Blogher 06. It couldn’t be easier, either – all you have to do is leave her a comment! The two day admissions are sold out, so if you still want to go, you’d better get over there and leave Sue a witty comment soon!

Also, Her Bad Mother announced her own contest today. Consider it a feel-the-love type of contest. The rules are to write up a post about women in the blogosphere who have made some difference to your life. It can be sentimental, downright sappy, or funny and lighthearted. Just write it before Mother’s Day, post it to your blog, and let HBM know so she can give you some link love in return. Then on Mother’s Day, she’ll showcase all of the feel-good posts. Now’s your chance to let those you read every day know they’re not just writing to hear the keys typing.

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And finally, I was surfing over to the Crazy Hip Blog Mamas site yesterday to make my voting choice for the week, and I noticed A Mommy Story on the list. Wha? Me? *blink blink* Really? Someone nominated me, and I didn’t even have to ask them to? I’m floored. A big thank you to whoever it was. I don’t even care if I ever win, I’m just thrilled to have been nominated!

Dude, you made the lady’s day.

Dear Westerville McDonald’s,

Due to the proximity of your establishment to my place of work, and due to the lack of other fast food establishments, I order food from you at least once a week far too frequently. While I am a big fan of your french fries and double cheeseburger, I am now on a quest to improve my health. And so I decided today that I would skip the greasy food that you do so well for one of your premium salads.

I’ve had these salads before. They’re good. The salad is filling while not being too high in fat and calories, especially with the grilled chicken instead of the crispy chicken. The portion size is good, even if the cost is a little high. However, today is became clear that your location clearly doesn’t have a lot of people requesting salads.

My first tip that something might be amiss was the sticker you forgot to remove from the salad container. This informed me that the salad MUST be used by 12:30pm 5/9/06. You were lucky, and came in just under the wire on that one: it was 12:25pm. Nothing like getting a salad that was 5 minutes away from expiring.

When I arrived back to the office, I then discovered you forgot to put in the croutons. An easy miss, I understand. But when faced with little more than dry chicken, lettuce, and salad dressing, those butter and garlic croutons are a carb-lover’s dream come true in a sea of leafy greens, protein and oil.

Then I carefully opened the top of the salad container, and was greeted with half a salad. The bowl was only half-full of lettuce. OK, I’m used to getting skimped on fries at McDonald’s, but now you’re skimping on LETTUCE? Seriously? In case you forgot, this damn salad costs four times more than my fries, and I want all the lettuce I’m supposed to have!

Which brings me to some important questions: why must I pay $5 in order to eat chicken and lettuce in a bowl, when a McChicken sandwich costs $1? Why must your healthy menu be so expensive, while people can eat all the crap they want from your dollar menu? Is the labor involved in cutting the chicken into strips really that expensive? What kind of Ginsu chef are you hiding amongst the immigrants in the kitchen? I shouldn’t be forced to make the decision to save money and eat cheap or splurge and eat healthy. Healthy vs. cheap is just not fair.

Perhaps next time I want a chicken salad, I will order a chicken sandwich with extra lettuce (which is free to add to sandwiches, so why are you skimping me in the salad?), cut the chicken up myself, mix with the lettuce from the sandwich, tear the bun up into crouton-sized pieces, and enjoy my $1 “premium” chicken salad.

Sincerely,

A woman who no longer wants to be fat, but wants her lettuce and croutons!

I’m ready to dig, lady.

This morning was spent at the annual Columbus Parent Expo, gathering all the swag I could get my hands on. I’ll gladly grab all the pens, crayons, cheap frisbees, and other junk businesses throw my way. I don’t even care that it has their logo on it. Aaron was busy, so it was just Cordy and I. This year it was held at the Columbus Zoo, and we had a few new firsts for the small girl child:

– First experience with a harmonica. She couldn’t quite understand what to do with it. Blow into it, sweetie. No, don’t try to inhale it!

– First freak out over seeing a costumed character. They had a giant ‘Y’ there from the YMCA. Cordy took one look and screamed, as anyone would do with a giant ‘Y’ coming at them.

– First time I’ve been called a single parent. No joke. A church group was there, and a lady stopped me to hand me a packet, saying: We have a new support group for single parents starting soon! Uh, what? Just because my husband isn’t with me doesn’t mean I’m a single parent. I’m married, you twit.

– First time Cordy wasn’t mistaken for a boy in her red pirate coat. Someone actually had the presence of mind to notice she was wearing a girly outfit under her coat! Thinking before speaking – amazing! No worries, though, she was still thought to be a boy by many people.

– First truly confused moment. The expo had big speakers playing children’s music all day. When we arrived, “Hot Potato” by the Wiggles was blasting out of the speakers. Cordy was looking everywhere for the Wiggles! She didn’t understand that there was nowhere to watch them.

After the parent expo, I packed the kid back into the car for our next stop: the Ohio State University Medieval and Renaissance Festival. Aaron and his partner were performing there today, and I didn’t want to miss catching up with many of our friends that we only ever seem to see at these gatherings.

Once again, Cordy “enjoyed” more firsts:

– First refusal of french fries. She ate a few, but most of her lunch was cast aside for the sippy cup full of milk. This child never turns down french fries.

– First improvised leash. (Watch out, Kristen, I’m talking about leashes!) Cordelia was in fine form, trying to escape from us at every chance. So Aaron took his costume sash and turned it into an improvised harness for Cordy. (We were very close to the street, where cars driven by inattentive college students sped by.) It didn’t last long, though. Of course, after the leash was removed, she resumed her attempts to run into the street. At first, I thought: She’ll turn around before she gets to the street. This was followed by me sprinting for her, after she proved me wrong. (No need to call CPS – I caught her with 10 feet to go before she got to the curb.)

– First bloody nose. I missed seeing this one, but I saw the aftermath. Apparently Cordy fell on the sidewalk, and caught herself with her face. One nostril was a little bloody, and she scratched the outside of her nose and a small patch of her forehead. Leave it to Cordy to do her own stunts.

– First in-person proof that our kid is a moose compared to others her age. Exactly her age, to be precise. One of our friends was there with her daughter, who was born the same day as Cordy. At one point, the friend’s older son asked, So, they were born on the same day, but a year apart, right? Uh, no. Same day, same year. Oh, she’s just a LOT bigger! Yep, we’ve been feeding ours steroids with a side of growth hormone.

After a melt-down of epic proportion due to no significant nap, we went home, where I got to experience one more first before bed:

– First Eskimo kiss. Cordy was snuggling with me on the couch, and put her face very close to mine and rubbed noses with me. It was so. amazingly. cute.

Now she is in bed, and after such a long day, I had my own first. I had a glass of wine with dinner, followed by a big bowl of ice cream. I think this busy day deserved two indulgences instead of just one.