All the single ladies

Why is it that for the two days that daddy is off with friends pretending he's back in college, Mr. Monk decides that he wants to start the party an hour earlier than normal? When we normally don't see each other until 7:30, a 6 am wake up cry seems downright uncivilized (as does my decision to stay up till nearly 1 am last night. Stupid kindle and your easy-in-bed-reading ways). Yes, yes, I realize I am a lucky duck that the baby is normally a champion sleeper. Of course, because he woke up too early, he's been acting like he's getting his period all day. Just whiny, bratty and maybe a little bloated.

I am not cut out for single motherhood.

Speaking of single motherhood, I am currently reading a very witty, touching and thoroughly engaging (see idiotic sleep time above) book on the subject called "Operating Instructions," by Anne Lamott. It's a memoir capturing her son's first year and the most honest book on motherhood I've ever read. So honest that the author admits to wanting to leave her screaming baby out on the front porch all night to test his survival instincts. I too have wondered how Mr. Monk would fare on his own in those wee hours of the first few months. The book conjures up moments that are in turn hilarious, frustrating and incredibly beautiful--pretty much exactly like raising a child.