I've been schlepping through the past few days as Single Momma A while Papa A plays race car driver down at VIR. Needless to say, I've not had an amazing amount of energy for blogging or anything else besides the bare minimum to keep the house in order and watching La Vie En Rose (Yes, Marion Cotillard deserved her nekkid gold man.). It's actually not been too bad; Little A has kept his theatrics to a minimum as I am sure he sees the strained weariness behind my shark eyes.
Our first night alone was pretty uneventful; Little A, exhausted from the weekend, decided to buck his recent trend of waking up after a few hours sleep for comfort and then rousing the household at around 5:30 a.m. He slept soundly all night, waking a little before seven. Momma A was relieved to get uninterrupted sleep. Energy is highly coveted when in Single Momma mode.
Yesterday we spent a few hours at one of our favorite RVA haunts, Maymont Park, admiring the farm animals and the construction vehicles that were working on the new bird habitat. Momma A decided that it would be a fabulous idea to trek up the steep hill to Dooley Mansion whilst wearing thirty-one pounds of Little A on her back. Halfway up the steps, after background grunting courtesy of Little A who obviously sensed my struggles, I had to take a breather or we all would have come tumbling down. We followed our park exploits with lunch at Crossroads, though the shop's co-owner, my friend, and member of the Little A harem, Olivia was off for the day.
Last night, my parents had us over for dinner (and for catching up on Project Runway). Grandparent-induced activities always delay bedtime, but Little A took his bath and headed to sleep with little fanfare. However, I was roused from my bed a little before 4 a.m. this morning by his plaintive cries. We went through the comforting routine of new diaper and story, and I laid him back down. Forty-five minutes later, he was calling for me again, this time with complaints that the room was too dark. At this point, I was way too tired to fight his fears, so I scooped him up and headed for my bed to crash back out together. Scold me if you like, but Single Momma A mode is prone to making last minute compromises.
The hour or so of sleep we got before my alarm went off was some of the sweetest I've had in a long time, snuggled close together under the blankets with a chubby arm tossed around my neck. Only wish I could have indulged in more as I've been a narcoleptic all damn day.
While I look forward to Papa A's return tonight, I've enjoyed flying with only my nutty kid as co-pilot. He's good times . Mostly.
In an hour or so, I hope to be indoctrinating him in the art of baking by enlisting his assistance (to use the term loosely) in making The Best Damn Cornbread Ever.