When my students read an essay draft to the class, I always warn them that they can’t offer any disclaimers. Don’t tell us that you wrote it at 2AM the night before. Don’t tell us that “it sucks.” Don’t tell us that your sister was annoying you and, therefore, you couldn’t focus. No excuses. Just read.

So, I’m not going to bother offering an elaborate string of excuses for my blog absence, lately. Like my students, I’ll just jump right in.

When I last wrote, I was about to leave for a 2-week professional development/graduate program in North Carolina, and I was bemoaning my pending departure, hypothesizing that I was surely going to fall to pieces with out my dear, sweet Finn.

Here’s what I probably shouldn’t say: I didn’t fall to pieces. In fact, I had a really, really good time. Doesn’t that make me a terrible mom? Maybe.

Leaving was tough, for sure. And it became clear, very early on, that FaceTime wasn’t going to be an option, as Finn got pretty frustrated with seeing me on the phone and not having me in person. It upset him a lot, and it just wasn’t worth it. The first couple of days away were hard, and I hit a few bouts of loneliness; seeing my sweet boy reach out for me–on the phone–and not being able to reciprocate was no fun. So, we kept our phone chats brief.

But then I settled in, met some people, got busy keeping busy, and compartmentalized. That is, even if I thought about Finn all of the time, I didn’t really give myself a chance to miss him. I was occupied from sun-up to sun-down, mostly with legitimate work–but also with a little bit of raucous debauchery.

Sona said I was reliving my college years. I don’t think that’s a complete misrepresentation. Hey–I was living in a dorm, after all!

I won’t wax nostalgic about how, in having a baby, I’ve lost myself. Or how I’ve been utterly unrecognizable in this past year. Or how, since Finn, I’ve forgotten who I am and what I love. None of that is true. Finn isn’t a distraction; he is the embodiment of what I want out of life. If anything, having him has made me more laser-focused on what is important–and what isn’t.

Yet, what I have missed is the ability to selfishly and unabashedly indulge in me-ness. To focus, again, on doing the work that I love. To have meaningful conversations about that work. To play–to drive aimlessly, to behave irresponsibly, to be silly–without knowing that I need to relieve a babysitter or without watching the monitor, waiting for nap-time to end.

I got to do all of those things, and I left feeling recharged. But of course, all of that came at a cost: Sona had to work double-time. She had to be the single mom.

Even that, though, was much needed. It’s no secret that, for lots of reasons, I get more one-on-one time with Finn. The first week I was away, my parents were here to help (which we reallllllllly appreciated). The second week, though, Sona went at it, alone. It was a week we were all fretting over, but she totally rocked it–and without a single complaint. If you ask her, she’ll tell you it “wasn’t that bad,” and she feels a lot closer to Finn, now.

But I’m still pretty sure that I owe her a week of recklessness, soon.

Finn? He’s changing daily. I think that, with his first birthday on the horizon, we can say that we’ve officially entered toddler-dom. It’s a scary place, y’all, but it’s also a riot.

Here’s what you need to know: He still only has two teeth. His first word was “kitty,” and he says “ey kitteh kitteh” whenever he sees Xander or Sweet Pea. (As I’m sure you can imagine, they’re THRILLED.) He’s also saying “dada,” which is like some sick joke for his lesbian mommies. He does this weird half crawl, half walk–walking must be just around the corner. He pulls himself up on everything. Opens everything. Reaches out and screams for everything.

His separation anxiety is a thing of the past (for now). He loves to play–loves to explore on his own. He managed to open a baby gate and was halfway up the stairs before we caught him. He’s still a champion sleeper, napping up to 3-hour stretches. He eats three meals a day, and he has dinner–at the table–with us each night. He loves music and dances the second he hears a tune. He seems particularly fond of classical and hip-hop; my kid isn’t going to be pigeon-holed.

He gives hugs, when he’s in the mood. He is affectionate with other kids to a fault. Like, “Stop groping that kid, Finn, he’s going to file a restraining order.” He’s super serious or super silly, which he gets from Sona. He’s also the most observant baby I’ve ever met. He loves cars and is obsessed with two luvies, which he double-fists at bedtime. He eats about a pound of fruit a day and can drink from a straw.

Also, he will be a ONE YEAR OLD in two days, which is just absurd.

Last week was my re-entry. Luckily, Sona had the week off, and we did our first ever staycation. (Which, let’s be honest, isn’t even close to being as awesome as an actual vacation, but the house–and the reno–forced us to make some smarter decisions, this year.)

We had lots of much-needed family time, taking Finn to the zoo and to the beach and on other Chicago-based adventures. It was also good to be in our new place, as I’ve only really been here for half of the time that it has been ours. So, I’m still settling in.

It makes me sound crazy to say this, but I’m ready for work to start back, next week. I’m looking forward to getting back to our routine and having a schedule. It’ll be nice to come home, cook dinner, watch trashy TV, and then get up and do it all over again–all without having to talk with mortgage lenders or contractors or furniture companies who can’t make a delivery window to save their lives.

Part of that routine, hopefully, will be blogging, again. But, by now, I know better than to make any promises. 😉