Blah, Blah, Blog

If you met me, you'd think I have it all together. Really.

My son, B, just turned five and he's in a great kindergarten in the neighborhood. He is a funny, bright and articulate kid. We'll talk about what a handful he can be in another post. This is just about the good stuff.

I have a home-based fitness business and I take a lot of pride in helping people to be healthier with pilates and yoga. I can talk the talk quite well. My "OM" is even pretty good.

I get to make my own hours and be in my sweet home quite a bit. B has never been to day care because of my wonderful support system and job flexibility.

My son's dad, whom I'll call "K" for now is a very involved and dedicated parent. We have a 50/50 custody arrangement which some people think is very cool because it allows me to have half of my life without "mom duties" (which, for the record, I think is not so cool as I truly miss B when he's not with me but again, this post is about the "good" stuff!).

We have a large circle of friends, a great church, and a hands-on grandma who practically lives with us (this can be good and bad, depending on the day!).

So it seems to be pretty polished. On the surface, at least. Yet there are daily moments where the cracks in the fascade (as my beloved friend, Kathie would say) are definitely a little too apparent for my liking.

Two years ago, I became a single mom. Twelve years ago, I became an insomniac. These two things do not pair well together. The situation has become so, um, "dire" is the best word that comes to mind here, I need to find some humor in it. Quickly. For everyone's sake. If humor is the anecdote to stress, sign me up. Now.

I decided to write this for my son and for myself as a reminder, of sorts, of how precious the early childhood years are, even in the midst of those crazy and insane times when I feel like I am the only single mom on the earth.

I hope that B can look back on his childhood and perhaps through this blog, knowing that his mom did the absolute best that she could at being a good, and maybe even, at times, a fun parent.