Author: Cynical Woman

Cartoonist, Artist, Geek, Evil Crafter, Girl Scout Troop Leader and Writer. Also, a zombie. I haven't slept in I don't know how long.
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Let’s Talk About Sex And Motherhood Part II – Does Mommy Need A Makeover?

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One of the things that makes me feel too much of a mom and not enough of sexy me these days is my wardrobe. I don’t know why, but somehow I ended up with a closet full of the Standard Mommy Uniforms – i.e. plain tee shirts and yoga pants (with the occasional pair of capris thrown in for good measure). I used to have all sorts of cool clothes – funky black tee shirts, velvet tops, slinky form fitting dresses, mini-skirts, black leather boots, etc. Anything that showed off my figure and my personality. Most of my wardrobe is still pretty form fitting (and miracle of miracles, I am back to my pre-pregnancy figure), but it’s all plain solid colors. It’s just so damned boring!

I guess I did it to myself. Maybe I didn’t want to wear all my nice stuff when it was only going to be covered in poop and spit up. Maybe I was too tired to get dressed up. Maybe I just wanted to make it easy to get dressed in the mornings by wearing mix and match clothing that didn’t require any thought. Maybe (and I can’t believe I’d admit this), maybe I just wanted my outfits to be appropriate for play dates with mundane moms. It’s hard to fit in with the other mommies when your favorite top screams “Anarchist!” and your jewelry is all little metal skulls and such. Yes, I used to be a punk/goth/sci-fi lovin’ amazon babe. Freak. Weirdo. Whatever. Look, you’re reading the blog of a woman who writes erotica and loves to draw dirty pictures. What did you expect?

I tell you what I expected. I expected to keep my weirdness and my cool factor even after having kids. I expected to be sexy and out of this world exotic no matter how many diapers I had to change. I did not expect to blend in with the beige carpeting at the pediatrician’s office.

I want my freaky clothes back. I want the goth tee shirts and the punk jewelry and the lipstick so dark it almost looks black. I want to be the scary mommy who reminds you of Morticia Adams when she shows up at play dates toting a baby dressed in a Roman Dirge onesie and a preschooler who reminds you of a character from “Foster’s Home For Imaginary Friends.” I want to spike my hair, wear leather mini-skirts and make people’s jaws drop when I walk by in thigh-high black boots.

I want my frikkin’ wardrobe back and the personality that went with it. Then I’d feel sexy, damn it. Kick ass sexy.

Speaking of stuff both gothic and freaky, here’s the art work from yesterday. It’s a small piece of a gothic horror cartoon I’ve started work on, done strictly in my own style. As I work on it, I’ll scan in other bits and pieces to show off.

Gothic horror cartoon, detail – 31 August 2006

Cynical Woman is the creative property of Helen E. H. Madden.
Be sure to visit www.cynicalwoman.com for Cynical Woman cartoons.
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Let’s Talk About Sex And Motherhood

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Okay, so I’m not gonna shoot my husband.

Honestly, how could I shoot a man who would sit and listen to me rant and rave about my lousy day for almost an hour yesterday afternoon, then still cook me a nice dinner? And it was a really nice dinner too.

Yesterday was pretty bad, but it had its good points too. The best part was that Sam was asleep in her crib by 8:30 PM. I actually got to read for half an hour before going to bed early. Not that I got much sleep. My husband was feeling kind of frisky so I ended up staying up late last night anyway.

I’m in two different minds when it comes to sex and mommyhood. On the one hand, I feel like I just can’t be a mom and a sexual creature at the same time. Exhaustion simply kills my sex drive, and motherhood is nothing if not exhausting. I get six hours of sleep at most each night, and that sleep is frequently disrupted by late night feedings and preschoolers waking me up to announce there are monsters under the bed. During the day, I’ve got two kids hanging all over me. One is usually latched on and sucking the life out of me. The other is wrapped around my legs screaming for me to play with her. This leaves me with no time to relax or take care of myself, and if I can’t relax, I have a hard time sparking any interest in sex.

On the other hand, though, I miss feeling sexy and I miss having sex. Sex is a huge part of my identity. I write erotica and I create erotic art. My work revolves around creating arousal. My everyday life used to revolve around it too. I can remember a time when I would wake up in the middle of the night, not to nurse a baby, but to ravish my husband instead. Michael and I would spend entire weekends in bed, having non-stop sex and making enough noise to scare the neighbors. Back then, the only toys we had in the house were sex toys and my lingerie draw overflowed with Victoria’s Secret instead of nursing bras. Yep, those were good days.

So I’m thinking about sex right now, wondering if I can ever go back to the love life I used to have with my husband. People tell me no, it’s normal to watch your sex drive dry up and blow away when you’ve got kids. But part of me thinks that’s just bull crap. I can get my sexy groove back. I just have to figure out how.

I’ll talk about this some more tomorrow. Right now, I think I’m gonna catch some Z’s in the glider.

Here’s today’s artwork. This poor guy’s got a sex life about like my own, I think…

Figure drawing, 30 August 2006

Cynical Woman is the creative property of Helen E. H. Madden.
Be sure to visit www.cynicalwoman.com for Cynical Woman cartoons.
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Getting Ready For Preschool, Part III – Can My Husband Even Get Out Of Bed?

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I had honestly intended to write about an entirely different subject this morning, but I’m so damned irritated today that I’ve just decided to vent instead. I feel like I’ve spent the last several weeks busting my ass while everyone else in the house does their very best to thwart my efforts to accomplish any work. Sam won’t go to bed without a fight. Cassie refuses to nap. And now Michael… First it was the paper he had to write, then the business trip he took to present said paper. Both these things required me to give up a lot of my time so I could handle most of the child care on my own while he worked. Now we’re just a few days away from the start of preschool and try as I might to get this family on schedule in preparation for what’s going to happen next week, nobody seems to care, and I’m the one getting screwed as a result.

I get up at 4:45 AM. No, I’m not joking. 4:45 AM, the butt-crack of dawn. I do this to grab an hour of work time before the rest of the family wakes up, because once they’re up, there’s no way I’m going to be able to sit at the computer and work. Not with a baby to nurse, a preschooler to dress and feed and a husband to prod out of bed. And let me tell you, I just love that last task. Why the hell is it that I’m the first one up and the last one to bed, and yet he sits there and complains that he’s not a morning person? He’s not even setting his damned alarm clock. He’s depending on me to nudge his ass out of bed! Hello! Can we say completely unfair? It’s not like he’s getting out of bed at 2 AM to take care of the baby. That’s my job too!

I’m so tired of this. I wish people (i.e. my husband) would show a little more respect for the work I’m trying to do. I wish it mattered to him that I’ve got a novel to submit and artwork to draw. But I guess my work just doesn’t make enough money to matter to anyone else but me. Grumble, grumble, bitch, whine, complain…

Sigh. I love my husband. But if he doesn’t start getting up on his own at 6 AM, I’m gonna shoot him.

Here’s the artwork for today. More work on that Manga Academy assignment, this time drawing champagne glasses. It’s not thrilling stuff, I know, but it does give me practice.

Champagne Glasses, 29 August 2006

Cynical Woman is the creative property of Helen E. H. Madden.
Be sure to visit www.cynicalwoman.com for Cynical Woman cartoons.
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Getting Ready For Preschool Part II – Will Cassie Even Make It Out The Door?

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It’s 6:45 AM and Cassie’s already thrown her first tantrum of the day. Lovely.

I decided two weeks ago that the whole family needed to practice getting up early and running through our morning routine the way we will once Cassie starts preschool. Up until yesterday, though, I’m the only one who’s been doing that. Michael claims he’s not a morning person, and has continued to sleep until 7 AM. I can’t get Cassie and Sam up and going at the same time, so I’ve been juggling between the two, trying to at least get Cassie used to the idea of breakfast first, then playtime. Now we’re in the final week before preschool. Michael has gotten up early two days in a row, but Cassie keeps protesting that she wants her Sesame Street first before she’ll eat. What she doesn’t understand is that come next week, she won’t be getting any Sesame Street at all, before or after breakfast, because she’ll be headed off to school.

At least Cassie got up early this morning. She came trotting into our bedroom at 6:15 while Michael was still in the shower. I was working on the dreaded novel synopsis so I let Cassie crawl into our bed while I tapped away at the laptop. At 6:30, I told her she needed to get up and get dressed. That’s when the tantrum started.

Cassie: “I don’t want to get dressed. I eat in my pajamas!”

Me, picking up a very hungry Sam who has just woken up and wants to nurse: “That’s not how it works, young lady. You get dressed first, then you eat.”

Cassie, pulling the covers up to her chin: “No! No no no! Eat first!”

Me, still holding a fussing Sam: “Cassandra, get up and get dressed, now!”

Cassie dives under the quilt. I pull it off of her. She giggles and grabs at the quilt again. I get pissed and yank it back.

Me: “Young lady, if I have to put your sister down to make you get out of that bed and get dressed, you’re getting a spanking!”

Cassie, now playing tug of war with the quilt: “No no no no no no!”

Naturally, I am forced to put Sam down, which only makes her howl. I march over to the bed, envisioning snatching Cassie by the ears and dragging her screaming into her room. Sensing her impending fate, Cass jumps out of the bed and runs for it. All that saves her from a butt-paddling is Michael going after her to get her dressed. I finally sit down with Sam and nurse.

I know this is a scene that’s going to repeat itself many mornings. No matter how badly Cassie wants to go to preschool, she’s still bent on dawdling and doing things her own way in her own time. I just hope I can find my patience before I really do have to catch her by the ears.

Here’s some artwork from Sunday. Yes, it’s a soccer ball. It’s part of an assignment from Manga Academy. I’m supposed to hunt through various manga, looking for drawings of simple objects and then copy those drawings, paying attention to tone and line thickness in relation to the light source in the image. Considering that manga mainly focuses on people’s bodies and faces, it’s taking me forever to find simple inanimate objects to draw. However, I like my little soccer ball. It actually looks like a soccer ball, with a light source shining on it, so I’m pleased.

Soccer Ball, 27 August 2006

Cynical Woman is the creative property of Helen E. H. Madden.
Be sure to visit www.cynicalwoman.com for Cynical Woman cartoons.
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Getting Ready For Preschool – What Will Mommy Do While Her Baby Is At School?

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This is just me thinking out loud this morning. After spending a chaotic weekend adjusting to having my husband back at home, I am now confronting the next big change in my life – Cassie’s first day of preschool – and am trying to decide how to deal with it. She starts next week, and will be going on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays for half-days. The idea initially was to give me a little time off so I could get some work done while she’s at school, but now I’m starting to wonder if that’s going to work. Sam continues to be difficult at bedtime, and she keeps me up all night. That can really screw up my day, you know. This morning, as a matter of fact, she was up at 4 AM, spitting up and fussing like nobody’s business. I finally handed her off to Michael at 4:45, my usual wakeup time, so I could get started on my day.

Why do I get up so early, you ask? Well, I have this lovely schedule planned out that involves me getting up at the butt-crack of dawn so I can fit in a few hours of work amidst all the chores and childcare I end up doing during the day. The first block of work time is from 5:30-6:30 AM, the second is from 8-10 AM, and the third is from 2-4 PM. The first and third scheduled blocks work just fine. At 5:30 AM, I’m usually the only one awake. Sometimes Sam is up, demanding to be nursed, but that’s not usually a problem. I can nurse her and write at the computer for an hour if I need to. The 2-4 PM work time occurs during Cassie’s afternoon nap, and that works really well, because I can usually get Sam down for an hour or more during that time as well. Plus, if I save drawing for that block of time, I can sort of let the work bleed over into the time after Cassie wakes up. I have very sneakily dubbed this time to be “Craft Time,” so I can hand Cassie some markers and paper and tell her that she and Mommy are going to draw pretty pictures for an hour or so. Hey, we get to spend time together and I get a little drawing practice in, so I’m happy.

Anyway, my early morning and late afternoon work hours are happening as planned. It’s that 8-10 AM block that’s a bit of a problem. Technically speaking, I haven’t started using this time for work just yet. Until Cassie heads off to preschool, 8-10 is pretty much playtime, where I do my best to keep my rambunctious child occupied. I’ve come to realize already though, that planning on doing any work during this time, even after Cassie starts school, is going to have some problems. First off, Cass is only going to be in school three mornings a week. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I’m not going to be able to use those hours. Second, Sam isn’t exactly cooperating with me on this schedule. I’d like her to take a morning nap from 8-10, but she’s usually wide awake then, so I’m not going to be able to get much work done.

**Sigh.** I don’t know what to do yet. Maybe I could reschedule that second block or I could forget about it entirely. I’d really like to have three separate work periods so I can handle three separate types of work – writing, animation, and drawing. I’m going to have to think about it some more.

Here’s today’s artwork. I’ve been practicing more figure drawing, especially problem areas like hands. Don’t be surprised if one of these days I post a drawing of nothing but feet, because I really stink at drawing those.

Figure drawing and hands – from 22 August 2006

Cynical Woman is the creative property of Helen E. H. Madden.
Be sure to visit www.cynicalwoman.com for Cynical Woman cartoons.
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Welcome Home, Daddy?

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Well, Michael got home last night around 6:30 PM. You should have seen the welcome he got. There was a little confusion, you see. I wasn’t certain he was going to show up in time for dinner so I asked Megan, our babysitter, to come over for an hour just in case Michael was running late. She’s been over for an hour every other evening this week to play with Cassie and help take care of Sam, and that’s how I’ve managed to survive this whole fiasco.

Well I got a call from Michael telling me he was on his way home and expected to be pulling into the driveway around dinner time. So when Megan called I said all I really needed her to do was come over and get paid because Michael was almost home. Then Sam blew out her diaper and I had to go bathe her. While I was washing the poop off of Sam, Cassie came running in to tell me the door bell had rung. “That’s probably Megan,” I said, and that’s where the trouble started.

See, Megan is fifteen and probably Cassie’s most favorite person in the whole wide world. Megan gets down on the floor and plays dollies and Legos and Lincoln Logs and other stuff. Megan will take Cassie outside and run with her and play tag and hide ‘n seek. Megan is young and still has two good knees and she can more than keep up with my overly energetic three-year-old. So when Cassie heard that Megan was downstairs waiting, she took off, screaming, “Megan! Megan! Meeeeeeeeeeegan!” Unfortunately, by the time I had managed to wrap Sam up in a towel and get downstairs, there was nobody at the door. Cassie, of course, started to bawl.

Cassie: “Where’s Megan? I want Megan!”

Me (still holding Sam who is only wearing a bath towel and may erupt in poop again at any moment): “Honey, it’s okay. I’ll call Megan and ask her to come back. But she’s only coming to pick up her money, she’s not staying, okay?”

Cassie: “I want MEGAN!”

Me: “Oh look, sweetie! Look who just pulled into the driveway. It’s Daddy!”

Cassie: “MEGAN! MEEEEEEEEEGAN!”

Me, on the phone trying to get hold of Megan: “Hi Kathy? Is Megan there? Yeah, I was busy cleaning up the baby. Could she come back over real quick?”

Cassie: “MEEEEEEEGAN! MEEEEEEEGAN!”

At this point my husband has pulled his bags out of the car trunk and is headed up the sidewalk. He can see us in the bay windows and is giving me the hand signal for “What the hell is going on in there?”

Cassie: “MEEEEEEEEGAN! I WANT MEEEEEEEGAN!”

Me: “Um, Kathy? Could Megan stay and play a few minutes with Cassie? She’s a little upset that we missed Megan at the door.”

Michael, walking in the door: “Honey, I’m home! Where’s my big girl? Where’s Cassie?”

Cassie: “I WANT MEEEEEEEGAN!”

Fortunately, Megan showed up at that point and kindly agreed to play with Cassie for a little bit. While the two of them went into the living room to build the Taj Mahal out of Lincoln Logs, I raced upstairs with Sam, who had that peculiar look on her face that always means, “Mommy, I’m going to make a big poopie!” I got the diaper on her just in time.

Not exactly the warm homecoming that I’m sure Michael was expecting. But the house was still standing and everybody was still alive and Sam waited a whole hour before spitting up on him, so I think it went pretty well, all things considered.

Now that Michael is home, we’re back to our usual chaos. I was up all night again with Sam, and thus only managed to sneak in ten minutes of a conjugal “welcome back” before having to nurse again. Then this morning, we had everyone, and I mean everyone including the giant ballerina doll that my sister sent to Cassie, piled in our bed at 6 AM. Michael did manage to evict everyone for a little bit so I could grab a little shut eye, and then after breakfast he kept both kids occupied while I passed out on the couch. I can not believe it, but I slept there for two hours this morning, mouth open, snoring and drooling and everything. What a pretty picture I must have been. (Oh god, I hope nobody took any pictures). Anyway, Michael is finally home and life is finally back to normal.

Or at least, whatever passes for normal for us.

Here’s something I drew yesterday. You’re probably wondering what the heck it is. It’s a contour drawing of a badly torn up pinecone. No, I am not kidding, this is actually a torn up pinecone, not a mistake. This is an exercise from a drawing book I have. The purpose is to draw just the outline of an object, and then come back afterwards and fill in some of the detail, but again, outlines of details only. It’s a hand/eye coordination exercise. If you squint, it does sort of look like a pinecone that got mauled by a lawn mower. Trust me.

Mangled Pinecone, 25 August 2006

Cynical Woman is the creative property of Helen E. H. Madden.
Be sure to visit www.cynicalwoman.com for Cynical Woman cartoons.
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Surviving Michael’s Business Trip – Day 5, Reward Day

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I had seriously meant to post artwork yesterday, but couldn’t manage to get back online again. Sam kept nursing every two hours and when I wasn’t holding her, Cassie demanded I get down on the floor and play. She’s been good all week, but two days of Sam being in my arms non-stop is really starting to irritate her. I can’t get her milk for her when I’m nursing Sam, I can’t play when I’m nursing Sam, I can’t read stories… Well, actually I can do all those things while nursing Sam, but it’s not easy and I prefer not to have to do them because I think past a certain point it’s just expecting a little too much of me to jump up and answer Cassie’s every whim when I’m trying to nurse her sister. Cassie has to learn to wait, that’s all. Either than or she has to figure out how to pour her milk herself.

Um, no. On second thought, I don’t want her to pour her own milk just yet. I can just imagine how that would turn out. More milk on the floor than in her sippy cup. Too messy.

Michael comes home today, sometime between 5:30 PM and 8:30 PM, depending on traffic and his connecting flight. I can’t wait. I was trying to decide this morning if I was going to blow off the whole routine again. When the alarm went off at 4:45 AM, I figured I’d go ahead and get up and just take things one step at a time until I reached the point where I was too tired to keep my eyes open any longer, then I’d crawl back into bed and sleep. So far this morning, I’ve pumped some breast milk and had a shower. I was going to head downstairs and draw for a bit, but while I was getting dressed, I looked over at Sam in her car seat and saw she was wide awake. Little twerp gave me the biggest gummy grin and waved her hands at me, as if to say, “Mommy, I’m ready for more booby juice now!” So she’s nursing again while I write this. Drawing will have to wait. I’m pretty sure by the time Sam is done, I’ll be ready to go back to sleep. Or else Cassie will be up insisting that I play with her and get her some milk.

But that’s okay, because today is Reward Day. In addition to my Blow Off Day rule, I also have a rule about Reward Day. Whenever I’ve gone above and beyond the call of Mommy Duty, I get to treat myself (using Michael’s credit card, of course). Going above and beyond the call of Mommy Duty usually includes things like finishing a major art or writing project without killing the kids or husband, deep cleaning any room in the house, suffering through a week of nasty temper tantrums, or surviving a growth spurt with Sam (like the one we’re going through now). Making it through the past week on my own with two kids and dealing with the growth spurt while continuing to get some work done definitely qualifies for a reward, as far as I’m concerned. A major reward. So I’ve planned today to revolve around the concept of doing something really nice for ME.

For starters, I’m going to make myself a very nice breakfast, probably eggs with toast and a pot of hot decaf coffee, preferable the fancy whole bean stuff I bought before Michael left, not the ground stuff that tastes like potting soil if I don’t add enough soy milk and sugar to it. Then once everyone is dressed, I’m taking us all to the Y, where I can leave the kids in the nursery for a whole 90 minutes while I swim some laps in the pool. I’m not even going to bother calling this exercise. I’m just going to glide peacefully back and forth for a bit until I feel like I’m done. Then I’m going to shower and dress up, grab the kids and go out to lunch. Preferably some place quiet where I can breastfeed the ever-hungry Sam while I linger over some nice finger food (because I can’t use a knife and fork while breastfeeding – really, I can’t). We will not be going to McDonald’s or Chic-Fil-A, I can tell you that. Afterwards, we’ll head over to Borders. This is the highlight of Reward Day, and a stroke of genius on my part. I discovered at the beginning of the week that I can go online and search the inventory of my local Borders, then submit a request via the web to have particular books pulled for me. That way, I can just walk into the store, pick up my books at the register, and take Cassie to the children’s area where she can play while I flip through my selections. This beats the pants off of me trying to hunt for what I want while Cassie pesters me to help her with the headphones in the store kiosks so she can listen to Wiggles music.

So what am I getting at Borders, you ask? What else? Books on drawing and erotica (recall what I do for a living). To be specific, I’m getting a book on dynamic figure drawing and some adult manga (Japanese comics for those of you who don’t know what manga is). After Cassie’s had a little time to run amok in the children’s section and I’ve had time to confirm which books I’m buying, we’ll finish off our trip with a stop at the café where I intend to get my own pastry and my own drink rather than split an item between Cassie and me, because on Reward Day I don’t have to share.

Yes, that is the plan. Sam seems to have fallen asleep now, so I’m going to put her back in her car seat and slink into bed myself. Hopefully, I’ll get this entry posted a little later today. My eyes are already starting to close and I don’t think I can stay awake long enough to post this right away. Besides, I’ve earned the extra sleep. It’s Reward Day.

And before I forget… Here is today’s art. It’s a work in progress. The drawing was done in pencil, but the painting is being done on the computer. I’ve still got plenty left to do on this one. It’s something that I’ve been working on while nursing Sam in the evenings.

Medusa – Work In Progress

Cynical Woman is the creative property of Helen E. H. Madden.
Be sure to visit www.cynicalwoman.com for Cynical Woman cartoons.
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Surviving Michael’s Business Trip – Day 4, Blow Off Day Continues

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Oh, we are so blowing off today’s plans.

It’s 5:20 AM. Last night, I nursed Sam at midnight, 2 AM, and 4 AM. The alarm went off at 4:45. I was able to get a shower, but now it’s 5:20 AM and I’m back in the glider again nursing Sam, who keeps beating the crap out of my boobs because, guess what? My breasts are E-M-P-T-Y EMPTY!!

So all today’s plans are going out the window. It is once again, officially, Blow Off Day. As soon as Sam nurses herself back into a stupor, I plan to put her down and return to bed myself. Whenever Cassie wakes up, she can have whatever she wants for breakfast, up to and maybe even including M&M’s. I was planning on going to the dojo and take karate class today, but now I’m thinking we’ll hit the library instead. Mmmmm, the library. Such a nice quiet place. They have chairs in the library. I can check out a nice book on drawing and sit in one of those big comfy chairs. Yeah, sit and read… sit and read… sit and zzzzzzz…

I’ll post artwork later today. Maybe. Remember, it’s Blow Off Day.

Cynical Woman is the creative property of Helen E. H. Madden.
Be sure to visit www.cynicalwoman.com for Cynical Woman cartoons.
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Surviving Michael’s Business Trip – Day 3, Blow Off Day

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Well, it was bound to happen. At least one day while Michael was gone, I knew we were going to end up blowing off my carefully planned routine.

The trouble started last night. Cassie went to sleep at 8:30 PM, and I thought I had Sam asleep at 9, but then the little pooper woke up twenty minutes later, doing the usual fussing and farting. Turns out she was hungry, in spite of having nursed an hour earlier. At 10 PM, Sam was still hungry, but my boobs were completely tapped out so I put her on her tummy in the bassinette to let her fuss it out for a while. She fell asleep after half an hour and I was able to transfer her to the car seat, but because she was up so late, I didn’t get to bed until 11:30 PM.

Of course, Sam woke up at 2 AM demanding to be fed again. And then she woke up at 4 AM… 6 AM… 8 AM… If you’ve ever breast fed a baby, you should be familiar with this pattern. It’s called a growth spurt, and let me tell you, an infant can suck down a lot of breast milk when they’re going through one of these things. I was supposed to get up at 4:45, but with only four and a half hours of uninterrupted sleep, it just wasn’t happening. Cassie crawled into bed with Sam and me around 6:30 and nearly smothered me in her attempt to cuddle. Sandwiched between both kids, I got no sleep at all from that point on, especially since Sam kept kicking me in the ribs and Cass kept digging her pointy little elbows into my spine. Family bed my ass. Kids need to sleep in their own beds so Mommy doesn’t chop off her hand the next morning by accidentally sticking it into the grinder while trying to make coffee. Yes, the sleep deprivation really is that bad.

The good news is I have a rule for days like today. If I’ve been up all night with the baby and haven’t had at least six good hours of sleep, I can declare the day to be Blow Off Day. Blow Off Day means I can toss the whole plan out the window if I want. The only things I have to do are feed the kids and make sure nobody kills themselves or burns down the house. Cassie can watch as much TV as she wants, eat popsicles all day, and run around in her PJs for all I care. I can spend the entire day sitting on the couch doing nothing but nurse Sam and contemplate my navel. Let the dirty dishes pile high and the cats puke all over the carpet. I don’t care because it’s Blow Off Day.

There are, of course, various degrees of Blow Off Day. Some days I blow off more than others. The worst case scenario was back in April when Michael and I both came down with this really nasty stomach flu. We spent all night passing each other as we ran to the bathroom to puke up our guts. I was so sick I couldn’t even take a sip of water without vomiting. My husband and I spent the next day passed out on the couches in our living room. Cassie sat on the floor between us, eating sherbet and popcorn and watching ten straight hours of The Wiggles. We were so sick, we didn’t care. To make matters worse, I was seven months pregnant with Sam at the time. I don’t ever want to be that sick again as long as I live.

But that’s the worst case scenario, as I said. Being sleep deprived and on my own with the kids isn’t quite that bad. So I only blew off the morning routine – wake up at 4:45, shower, dress, feed the cats and write for an hour. I decided to sleep in (as best I could, anyway, with two kids piled on top of me) and just pick up the daily routine at whatever point I got out of bed.

The beauty of this is, it didn’t matter if we got back into our routine or not. It was Blow Off Day, for crying out loud! But if I did get us back on track… well then, I would deserve a little reward for that, wouldn’t I? Say, an all expenses paid trip to the bookstore, courtesy of my loving hubby’s credit card? Ka-ching!

So in spite of a rough night and a late start, I did work to get my act together. We got out the door by 10, hit the YMCA for a bit of exercise, and then met with some other moms and kids for our weekly play date at a nearby park. Both kids went down for their naps at the proscribed hour. I made up the hour of writing I had skipped in the morning and was able to follow that with an hour of sketching after Cassie woke up by convincing my darling daughter that she really did want to draw with some of Mommy’s special pencils. Dinner was on the table by 6 PM, bath time was at 7:30, and Cass was in bed by 8:30. Sam is still in my lap right now, fussing and nursing. She feels a little warm, so I’m wondering if she’s coming down with something. She doesn’t have a fever yet, but if she gets one and we’re up all night again, it’s okay.

Tomorrow can be Blow Off Day too.

Here’s today’s artwork. This is actually something I finished last week. It’s from my “Waiting Room” sketch book, the little sketch book I keep in my purse that I doodle in whenever I’m waiting for an appointment. These sketches take a while to complete, but the results are always… interesting.


Motherhood, 18 Aug 2006

Cynical Woman is the creative property of Helen E. H. Madden.
Be sure to visit www.cynicalwoman.com for Cynical Woman cartoons.
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Surviving Michael’s Business Trip – Day 2

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Being the only parent at home to take care of two kids doesn’t leave me with a lot of free time. I managed to get maybe 45 minutes of writing done yesterday and stole half an hour for drawing after Cassie and Sam went to sleep. The good news is, both kids seem content to go to bed around 9 PM. The bad news is, when I don’t get work done, I become a basket case.

However, I’ll survive. To help make the week a little easier, I picked up some bribes, er, toys for Cassie yesterday. I bought her a scooter and a set of Lincoln Logs. I was going to get her a tricycle, but when she saw this little pink scooter, she refused to look at anything else. It’s actually a nice little scooter too, except for the fact that it’s decorated with Baby Bratz toddler whores. Could someone please explain to me why toy makers think it’s okay to make toys for three-year-olds that encourage them to look like prostitutes? Have you seen the Baby Bratz? Jeeze, I thought the regular Bratz were bad enough.

Anyway, Cassie has her scooter and we’re taking it for a spin this morning. In the afternoon, she’ll get to play with her Lincoln Logs. While Lincoln Logs don’t encourage kids to look like whores, they are a lot of fun to play with. Even Cassie agrees with that.

I did manage to finish one bit of work, in spite of the lack of time I have. I’ve been working on this sketch since February. It’s colored pencil and ink. Not perfect, but pretty to look at.

Mermaid – 21 August 2006

Cynical Woman is the creative property of Helen E. H. Madden.
Be sure to visit www.cynicalwoman.com for Cynical Woman cartoons.