2 days left

Sorry I’m late on my post today. I’m working on something  for Rocky Mountain Moms blog, so that should be up soon. Kori just posted her first one too! I spent an hour on the phone with my egg donation attorney, making sure I understand the legal issues surrounding this complicated process, and damn, I forgot how insane it is! A 16-page contract on an embryo that doesn’t even exist yet.

I went to check out an apartment in town during my lunch break. Did I mention its a second floor space above a preschool? Yeah, the landlord runs her own 2-4 year old center, and could most definitely slide LB into her class if I moved in. She’s rented to single moms before and she said they were her best tenants.

She says to me, “I’m getting a really good vibe about you.” Yeah. Total hippie.

She’s also $200 cheaper than the new daycare center at my new job. What’s better than having daycare at the worksite? Being able to come home and pick your daughter up at the same time. The backyard is a playground. The apartment has a wrap-around porch. All utilities are included in the rent, even cable and internet.

I pay $757.00 for “low income housing” and it doesn’t include utilities. How much is the rent on this new place? $800 a month. I feel like someone hit me in the head with a frying pan.

The only problem: I re-signed a year lease back in November. I have an appointment to schmooze my property manager tomorrow. Maybe she will give me a break because I haven’t trashed my place. Compared to my train wreck of a next door neighbor, the domestic violence couple, and the alcoholic squaters across the way, I’m a saint of a renter.

Two more days of public education and I’m moving on up. My new boss called me today to fill out some paperwork and said, “So are you as excited as we are?”

Aw shucks.

Other than that, its full blown chaos in my office. I think people are starting to realize that my job is a whole lot more complicated than it looks. I’m exhausted, explaining things to my poor co-workers and watching the exasperation overcome their faces.

“You’re responsible for THAT TOO?” One said to me, throwing her hands up.

Maybe I’ve been too nice in my last 20 months on the job, because all my “acquired” tasks are now being distributed to other people. They aren’t happy. I wouldn’t be either.

Buffet for the soul

My daughter really is amazing. Mostly I just think of her as a very adaptable, intelligent, out-going, observant little 2 and a half year old. Every compliment she receives, I usually brush off with a “oh, stop.” I’m the one who needs to stop, because she deserves every bit of praise.

Its hard to stop and appreciate how awesome your kid is. Especially when you’re sharing your free time with another parent and his girlfriend. As a single mom, most of your non-working time is spent bathing, dressing, cooking and driving your child around, without the aid of another adult. You need shark-like focus. Good thing motherhood rewires your brain to accomplish these tasks.

 I once read about a study on virgin rats and mother rats. When put through the little “cheese maze”, the mother rats found the cheese faster and made less mistakes than the virgin rats. After a series of other test, Scientists concluded that the survival instinct in mother rats was significantly higher than rats without babies to feed. They did studies on the rats’ brains and saw radical differences between them when it came to problem solving skills. In other words, mamas get the job done. 

After my whole Planet Earth kick, I became convinced that single motherhood was a thing of nature. That moms are instinctively engineered to make sure their offspring survive, and that the instinct to please a husband just isn’t part of our DNA. Having a partner in parenting is an obvious perk and highly desirable, but as a functioning member of the animal kingdom, single moms aren’t anything out of the ordinary. I guess this would be a natural explanation as to why there are so many deadbeats as well. Ms. Single Mama is right. The dads who stick around should be given medals.

Ok that was a tangent. I’m watching CNN Live while working and blogging. My mind is a little spastic right now. I really just wanted to express how spending an entire day with my daughter was the equivalent of going to an all-you-can-eat buffet for the soul. Being a single parent really is bittersweet.  Its horrible to be separated from your child, but at the same time, you value the time you have with them even more.

My daughter currently likes calling me, “LB” and herself “Mommy.” She then sends me to timeout, cooks food for me and asks if I want to take a bath. When I react too loudly, she is quick to furrow her brows and say “Don’t be angry at me.” She does puzzles at lightning speed and sings

I hope one day I have a job where I can spend more time with my daughter. I’m glad I took the opportunity to play hooky while I still could. Now its all craziness and chaos at my job. Panic is setting in. I’m attending an inaugural party tonight while LB is with her dad. I’m also going to see an apartment in town tomorrow. What are your plans this week? Are you going to keep your sanity?

P.S. Please send your thoughts to my friend North Dakota. She is a young single mom who’s daughter’s father was killed in a car accident this week. She is struggling already, and this is throwing her for a mental loop. Send her your single mom strength if you would.

Back to it

First day back to work was exhausting. I didn’t stop answering the phone or filling out paperwork all day long. After a few hours though, you kind of get into your groove, like a runner at mile 11 in a marathon. Maybe I can track thisenjoyment back to my days as a pizza delivery girl, or waiting tables, where you somehow find your rhythm in all the chaos. Or maybe I can chalk it up to a sick sense of pleasure in escaping my hellish Christmas break; compared to dealing with Rooferman’s guerrilla tactics, a never-ending conference call is a slice of cherry pie.

Tomorrow is my interview. I’ve spent a few hours minutes rehearsing my pitch, flaunting my administrative accomplishments and humbly professing my desire for customer satisfaction. In screenwriting class, they called this “fluff”, and the less you had in your script, the better. I hated my Tarintino-wannabe peers so much, I played hooky a couple times to crash my gay roommate’s Public Relations class.

Afterward, I said to him,”you know you are majoring in the art of complete and utter Bullsh**?”

He looked at me and said, “Breeder.”

pixar cars

Speaking of my brood, LB has started narrating stories that usually go something like this:

“Onceponatime der was a little gul named LB who loved Mommy berry much and ate chocolate dinner. I SCARED! GO AWAY MONSTER! I NO LIKE TO GO POTTY! And on that farm he had a dog…Kachow! Deeeee End.”

Friggin Geminis.

Erase your life

Since I’ve washed the blogging slate clean (September at least), I might as well get on the ball and start replacing my life with a new one.

In my new life, I am a C-Cup who still can wear size 8 shoes. I no longer attempt to force my post-pregnancy feet into my pre-pregnancy heels, and I can shop the entire lingerie section instead of hiding in the corner with the Godzilla bras.

In my new life I drive a sleek, silver Toyota Matrix, where snow mobile runners magically pop out from under the car in the event of a blizzard. LB has a dirt-proof carseat, and the floors are self-cleaning. I have a surround-sound XM radio, where the Disney channel never plays commercials or  Hannah Montana, just non-stop Lion King, Lilo and Stich, Little Mermaid and Nightmare Before Christmas songs.

In my new life I have passed the State of Colorado Administrative Test, and I have scored in the Top 3. I have interviewed for the position and passed with flying colors. I am now eligible for the awesome child care center they have on site at my new job. My PERA benefits have transferred seamlessly and I can continue adding cash to my retirement.

The male teacher in LB’s new daycare center is a creative, nurturing, empowering influence in our new life. LB runs to hug him every morning as she arrives at her class. She plays well with the other kids, and has no problem being outnumbered by the boys.

In my new life, I stare into Sushi Boy’s dreamy brown eyes whenever I feel like it.

In my new life I actually get up at 5:30 am and workout.

in my new life I have a lawyer who handles all my worries and I no longer feel nauseous when the phone rings.

In my new life my daughter has a father who doesn’t ditch his visitation, write bad checks, refuse to pay child support, get thrown in jail or return her in a filthy condition. He doesn’t respond to picture messages with “LB is getting fat.” He doesn’t hang up on the mother of his child or threaten her with legal action.

In my new life I have all the answers and I’m never afraid. I eat all organic vegetables and I don’t have the cops showing up at my apartment complex in the middle of the night. I don’t binge on cookies and wine. I don’t have an emergency pack of cigarettes stashed in the freezer. I don’t have acne scars or split ends. I don’t feel pain and there’s a match to all my earrings and LB’s socks.

Ok done with the fantasy.

In real life, I have this awesome astrology book that says “The more highly developed Pisces are able to fully embrace their imagination, yet remain grounded in reality.” I guess that’s why I blog. So I can express creativity while simultaneously grinding my soul away with a job in public service. They can have my body, but my soul lives here.

Thursday = Friday

On top of everything else that’s going on. I started my 4-tens this week. Maybe this was a good thing, because the amount of work that is on my plate right now is almost too much for me to swallow. I keep telling myself that I’m going to see the actual surface of my desk by the end of each day, but no. Not so much. Even working 8 am – 6:30 pm, I still leave the office with files, faxes and interoffice mail stacked high. If I could add my emails on top of that mess, the result would be the leaning tower of administrative debris, threatening to destroy the sanity of the single mom below it.

I have fallen asleep twice this week, while sitting at my desk. I was jerked out of my erotic office dreams by the vile sound of the phone ringing. Have you noticed that office phones don’t actually ring anymore? Just like cell phone don’t actually ring. They play the soundtrack to your own personal reality show. Even the Boomer generation has figured out how to make their cell phones play “Shake your Groove thing” and “Layla.” My mom’s ring tone is tune by the Beatles, but I can’t remember which.

My ringtone? “I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T…do you know what that means?” Word. 😀

I also have assigned “YAHHH TRICK” to certain peeps who…*ahem* shall remain nameless.

Today is the last 10-hour shift of my first week of summer hours. It has been rough on me, but surprisingly smooth in the pick-up department. I managed to coerce 4 different people into picking up Gemini Toddler from  daycare while I stare at the clock until 6:30. And its been great! Today my dad is picking her up, so who knows what mayhem may occur, but I’m pretty confident in his abilities.

LB also turns 2 this Sunday! And me, being the fabulous person I am (HA), WON A BIRTHDAY CAKE FROM BASKIN ROBBINS OFF OF THE RADIO TODAY! Yeah, that’s how we single moms roll, working 4-tens while simultaneously winning cakes for their kids. Don’t you wish you were like us? hehehe.

So I’m about to drink my 4th cup of coffee and dive into the 4th day of what is going to be another lonnnngg  10 hours. However, tomorrow is the beginning of my 3 day weekend, and MAN IS IT GONNA BE WORTH IT! So, here’s to Thursday being the new Friday! Cheer and I will see you this weekend!