All the Single (Mama) Ladies!

The last few weeks have shown me how my life would play out should I ever act on my impulse to pack my bags, grab my kid and run off to Hollywood in search of Benicio Del Toro. (Circa 1999 Benicio, not the bedraggled, greying, desperately-in-need-of-a-haircut Benicio of late.)

Since I'm quite certain my idol wouldn't fall all over himself at the sight of some crazy stalker lady and her kidnapped child at his door, I'd likely end up exactly how I've been living for the last little while; husband-less, tired, sick and even more overwhelmed than usual!

No, Tony hasn't left me, nor have I thrown him out (just say the word, Benny!). But he has been super busy with work projects and was away on business all last week. So, on top of all the usual working, cooking, cleaning, laundry, dropping Ciaran off at daycare and picking him up, playing, bathing, reading stories, etc. etc. - all stuff that I do during a regular week, I also dealt with the following crap:

The Fridge Breaking Down.

It had been working on and off for a while and fortunately(?) we live in a tacky 1970's house with a full kitchen in the basement that we never use. So, I spent the week running up and down stairs, transferring food from one modern but malfunctioning fridge to a puke-green colored 1973 model.

The Dishwasher Stopped Working.

Oh, dear god, my worst nightmare came true. Ciaran actually pointed this out one night after dinner, when he opened the dishwasher door and saw his reflection staring back at him from a pool of smelly water. After scooping out the water with a measuring cup, Project Hand Washing went into effect. Tears were fought back (mine) for the first of many subsequent occasions that week. Everything seemed to be quickly unraveling.

The Kitchen Sink Backed Up.

Hence the non-working dishwasher. I'm pretty sure Ciaran was to blame, as I could have sworn I saw him cramming plastic straws down the drain just the other day. I tried to catch him in the act, but he was, as usual too quick for me. When I asked what he was up to he answered, "Noth-ing" in that annoyingly mischievous way kids often respond when they are, in fact, guilty of Some-thing.

Ma! Ma! The TV Done Broke!

It was an ugly scene on a rainy Saturday morning when nothing I tried could bring Ciaran's beloved Treehouse shows to life. I remembered with humiliating terror that I hadn't paid last month's cable bill. I swear on my pinky finger that's never happened before!

Tearing the house apart, I searched for the latest bill, but it, like so many other things around here, had disappeared. Again, I'm blaming Ciaran - lately he's taken to "hiding" things in the recycling bin. I called our service provider and after sorting it out with a rather snarky customer service person, tried the TV again, to no avail. With a screaming child in the background, I called the tech help line, who kept insisting I must have it on the wrong channel - no, I did not. After going through a lengthy trouble-shooting check-list, it was discovered that it was a loose connection.

More tears were fought back - was I really one of those women who couldn't survive on their own? I mean, it's nice to have my husband around (I obviously prefer it), but I shuddered to think of myself as becoming one of those helpless broads always in need of a man's help.

Overwhelmed and Run Down

The rest of the week started improving slightly, other than me almost forgetting about my close friend's baby shower and of course, not being able to find the invitation (I am so doing a post about things that have wound up in our recycling bin). Also, my brother's wife had just given birth and I hadn't even gotten around to sending them a baby gift! (Sorry Jeff & Jenna, it's on its way, I promise!)

So, I had the joy of dragging a cranky, demanding child to Babies R Us to pick up some presents while being subjected to him yelling "Mom! I want a red lawn mower! Mom! Mom! a RED lawn mower!" My nerves were so shot, I actually bought him the damn toy mower just for a couple minutes of peace. Bad idea, I know, but sometimes, I do cave in. 

Then, just as we were winding down one hectic, crazy week, on Sunday night Ciaran woke up sick and screaming at the top of his lungs, scaring the bejesus out of me right as I was finally drifting off to sleep.

Poor little guy was burning up and (surprise, surprise) my digital thermometer was not working. Also, when the upstairs refrigerator broke down, I ended up throwing out a bunch of stuff in there, including the children's Tylenol. So, there I was at 12:30 a.m. on Sunday evening, alone with a sick child burning up with a fever (I think). That, my friends was my final breaking point. Could anything more go wrong? Muffled by his crying, I held him and hid my face in his little shoulder letting my tears flow freely now.

A couple of hours later, I got him settled down and we both lay exhausted in his race-car bed. As I watched him sleep, I thought about all the single moms out there who have to deal with the week I just had on a regular basis. Being a Mom is a hard enough as it is, but to do it on your own is beyond stressful. I truly have the utmost respect for single mothers; I could not do this child rearing thing solo.

That's why, even after listening to Ciaran beg and scream for me to come with them, I don't feel all that bad about leaving him and his Dad to spend Mother's Day with Nona today. Cause I SO need the break!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some old Benicio Del Toro DVD's waiting to be popped into the player. If I can find them, that is. Sigh. Guess I'll start with the recycling bin.

Happy Mother's Day everyone!

Sorry, Benicio - guess it just wasn't meant to be!