Alert the Authorities
I’m spending the weekend at yet another home, but this time I’m not just house-sitting; I’m also Rachel-sitting. Our neighbors who are moving to Albuquerque are spending this weekend house-hunting, and they thought things might go a little smoother without a 17-month-old child in tow. So I get to be Mama for the weekend. I mean a true diaper-bag-toting, car-seat-driving, stroller-pushing, wake-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-to-replace-the-binky Mama. Talk about birth control. When they asked me to help them out, I’d had plans for Saturday night, so I’ve already hired my first babysitter. (Thanks, Mom.) Tomorrow I plan to rise at 6:30 when Rachel usually wakes up, and we have a grand list of things to do, which includes visiting the baristas at the neighborhood coffee shop, going to the mall to run around the indoor playground (apparently that’s where all the cool moms go) and a swimming play date with Viviane. And that, my fun-loving friends is how I find myself “home” on a Friday night reading The Devil Wears Prada, eating hummus and crackers, and drinking milk from a sippy cup (I couldn’t find the adult glasses). It’s one more way I’m trying to be more like Dooce.

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