Here's my confession: I feel guilty because I rarely have time to contribute to the wonderful community here, to follow posts and conversations the day they are posted and occur. I try to post book reviews to Mothertalkers as often as I can, but that's about once a month, maybe less.  It's the one place I really feel comfortable with other mothers, so I miss it!

Of course I'm not the only single mom around here, so I'm not really complaining about not having any time because of kids and/or work.

I am still in the midst of a divorce process that has taken longer than both Madonna/Guy Ritchie and Usher/Tameka's divorces. Both families have far more financial resources to squabble about. And that takes a lot of time and mental energy. Gathering documents, attending meetings. Which means that so much of what I have on my mind, what I want to write about, is about the divorce, how it affects my kids and me, how it changes my parenting. Stuff that could be used against me in the divorce process.  And as I watch social networks grow, I'm not so sure I will ever be able to talk about this stuff online. Yeah, I know, I already use a pseudonym.  It's not much privacy in this digital day and age.

Aside from all that, what are we up to?

On Saturday, while we were standing in line (well, I was; the kids were running up and down the ramp) at the post office, I remembered that I forgot to put money in the parking meter. I sent my son, who turned 8 in September, with a quarter to feed the meter. The first time I let him go by himself. My worry took my mind off the slow line.....and he came back safe, sound, and quite proud of himself.

Yesterday, after breakfast, I sent the kids out back to play. Alone. The yard is fenced in and there are bunch of balls, leaves, etc. I was going to go out and play with them, but I have a ton of chores to do to catch up from last week. And, they don't get much time to play together. As I did my kitchen chores I looked out the kitchen window watched my son as he pulled out the hose and unwrapped it (the water is turned off; the hose is not connected to the faucet). I checked on them later and they were running in the leaves. Later he will tell me he was using the hose to set a trap for a raccoon.

Baby R is not a baby anymore. She tells me several times a day that she is a big girl. Though one that refuses to use the potty. A year ago, she wasn't talking. Nowadays she talks right through her bedtime stories. Soon enough she too will be running off to put money in the meter.