19 Days Old

Two days and counting before Zach goes back to work as an IT
specialist at a local bank. “What are you so worried about?” My mom
holds Sam as I drag a pen along the seams of an envelope. Two half-
finished thank you notes jeer at me. “I raised you kids without your
dad around, and you turned out decent.”

“I’m not worried about Sam being decent. He barely has a sporting
chance, what with being your grandson.” I smirk. “I’m worried about
generally sucking as a mom,” I explain.

“Let me let you in on a little secret: all moms suck much of the
time. The beauty about being a stay-at-home mom is that there is no
one to watch you fail. It’s not like Sam is going to tell anyone.
You’ll be back at work before he learns to talk anyway.”

“Mom, you’re wigging me out a little. And yet, you are very wise.
You sure you don’t want to move in for a few months?”

“Oh, you’d love that. We couldn’t spend two days in Lake Geneva
without the battle of the air conditioner. No, I’ll just be around
for support when you need me. At least until I go to San Francisco
next month.”

“I can’t believe you’re still going. You have a grandchild now!” I’m
worried more about me not having her to help than my mom not seeing
Sam, but it sounds better when the baby is the one being the baby.

“He won’t remember. And you’ll make it without me. What if I were
dead? You’d have to do it without me anyway. In fact, pretend I’m
dead. It’ll be easier.”

“Ma! Why do you always have to go to the dark side?” I ask.

“It’s part of my charm, I guess.”

Doogan looks at me, and I swear I detect a shrug. “She’s your
mother,” he says.

I have managed to take care of Doogan for seventeen years. I’ll take
that as a good sign. Then Doogan bites me, and I shove him off the
couch.

I’m screwed.

20 Days Old

Zach goes back to work tomorrow. I am terrified, scared shitless,
and entrenched with fear. I have to be alone with this baby all day,
every day, and I don’t know if I can do it.“You’re going to be fine.
You’ve been doing it already for three weeks,” Zach tries to comfort
me as we watch “Supernatural” on the couch. Sam sleeps peacefully on
Zach’s chest. I give him the stinkeye, just in case he can sense I’m
not happy with him.

“I haven’t been doing it for three weeks by myself. At first I was
in the hospital, and you’ve been here the whole time, playing a
supporting role, as has my mom in her morbid kind of way. Plus--
fine? I don’t want to be fine. I want to be the best, most kick-ass
mother on the planet. And beyond. I want to nurse him lovingly
whilst I bake cakes and keep the house so clean you can hear little
chimes of sparkle ringing from the countertops. I want Sam to learn
sign language and ten other languages and to fit all the right
shapes into that ball with the shapes cut out that five different
people bought for him. Fine wasn’t good enough for me before I had
this baby, so it certainly should not be good enough when we’re
talking about the health and happiness of our first born son!” This
would be the start of many a sleep-deprived diatribe on the subject
of mama failure. But Zach will soon be lucky enough to get away from
it all for ten hours a day, five days a week. Son of a bitch.

Middle of the Night

Full-on panic that Zach goes back to work tomorrow. Thank god for
QVC. I don’t know what I’d do without the hypnotic beauty of twenty-
four hours of gemstones.

21 Days Old

First Day Without Zach Goals

-Feed, clothe, change, etc. Sam

-cut fingernails

-paint toenails

-bake chocolate chip cookies

-take nap

-master Moby Wrap

Zach is gone, and so far so good. Nothing out of the ordinary, and I
did manage to write three more thank you notes. Perhaps I will send
them before Sam’s first birthday.

I spent much of the day practicing intricate wrappings of the Moby
Wrap so I can wear Sam around when I go places. Working with at
least twenty feet of fabric to somehow transform it into a safe nest
in which Sam will lay seems semi-impossible, but I’ve made it my
quest for the day. Or maybe the week. Why rush these things.

First Day without Zach Accomplishments

-Blah blah blah Sam

-Managed to knot my Moby Wrap and watched it fall on the floor

-Fell asleep while on toilet (nap?)

-Ate half a roll of refrigerated cookie dough (baked in my stomach?)

When Zach arrives home, the house is the same mess it was before he
left. My face is still the same mess it was before he left. Zach
looks like he just returned from a three week trip to a spa. I pray
for a gigantic, dribbly poo to slither into Sam’s diaper so I can
hand it off to Zach, but for once Sam’s baby buns have clammed up.
Not that Zach would care. “I missed you so much!” he proclaims to
Sam as he swings him around the room. I should take my act on the
road. How much does an Invisible Woman make?