Alone time. Sweet, sweet alone time. Finally.

As any mom, especially single mom, knows ... the times in your bed to do whatever you want are few and far between.

“Ashley” by Big Sean bumps quietly out of my laptop speakers as I surf my Facebook timeline. I get distracted and click on some celebrity drama bait, falling into the black hole that is the Internet.

After about twenty minutes, I blink, shaking my head and leaning it back against the headboard. This week has been a whirlwind, and that's putting it lightly. Coordinating movers, setting Lennon up with daycare for the days my mom can't watch her, getting ready for my new position, trying to show my daughter the city that I once called home.

And now call home again. It's her new home too, and I've been trying to make it as fun of an experience as possible. Taking her to the monuments, teaching her the history she can understand, showing her things like Dorothy's slippers at the Smithsonian.

So far, she’s been great. Well, as great as a three-year-old who bores easily and wants a snack every five seconds can be. She only asked about Derek once, and after explaining that her daddy was still in Seattle, she dropped it. I hate to sound like the bitter, scorned woman … but it’s not like he spent much time trying to make himself a part of her life. I should have seen it the day she was born, his indifference, his need for exploration not squashed. Lennon had become my biggest adventure, and the man who had helped create her wanted to travel the world without consequences.

Blowing out a breath, I can’t help the sour taste that settles in my mouth. I’m being melodramatic. I chose to leave, to come home and set up a life for my daughter. No looking back now, even if my heart was broken.

But you know what fixes broken hearts? Wine and a little bit of ice cream. Picking up the stemless glass from my bedside table, I take a sip of the Riesling I’d had chilling in the fridge since we moved into our two bedroom apartment in Crystal City. It was the perfect place, with tall windows and a community pool downstairs. And without a man, I was allowed to decorate in whatever style I wanted.

The wine bubbled as it slid down my throat, and my thoughts flitted to the ice cream truck from today’s list of activities. The cute guy who was working behind the window. What was his name?

Jake. I think.

A blush of embarrassment heats my cheeks. I hadn’t recognized him, and even though he’d explained our connection, I still couldn’t place him. It was one of those awkward scenarios where you knew that the other person knew more about you than you knew about them … and you felt bad about it.

But he was cute.

Not that dating was something on a twenty-seven-year-old single mom’s to-do list. Please, most mornings I was lucky if I got out of the house with my hair brushed and a shirt not stained with Lennon’s cereal. But single moms could have fantasies, and maybe cute ice cream guy would be mine.

Resigning myself to the fact that I should get all the sleep I could afford, I switched off the light and settled into bed. Sleeping alone was a new phenomenon for me, something I hadn’t done in nearly eight years.

And I wasn’t about to lie and say I hated it. Sleeping alone was kind of excellent. So I stretched myself out all over the queen bed, and fell into a peaceful night’s rest.

* * *

“MOMMY!”

I growled, literally grated my teeth together, while the water ran over my body. I’d only gotten in here two seconds ago after putting Lennon in front of the TV with her Lucky Charms. Sugar and entertainment were a no-no in all of the parenting magazines, but what the hell did they know? They weren’t trying to get a rambunctious three-year-old out the door on time on their first day in a new job.

“I’ll be right there!” I shouted, praying she’d let me get conditioner in my hair before stumbling into my morning shower session.

“Mommy, I want to wear my Winnie the Pooh costume to Mimi’s today.” Too late, little lady was officially in the bathroom, sitting on the closed toilet with her baby blanket grasped firmly in her fist.

Doing the quickest wash of my body possibly in history, I turned the shower off and grabbed my towel. “You can’t wear a Halloween costume, sweetheart, it’s April.”

“But Mimi likes it, so I can wear it.” Oh, the logic of a toddler.

“How about we find some clothes for you, and you can bring your stuffed Tigger for the day instead.” Distraction and compromise; two of the best tools in a mother’s arsenal.

I hurry into my room, Lennon hot on my heels, as I put my hair in a towel and begin to dress in the clothes I laid out last night.

“Can you please go into your room and put on the outfit Mommy laid out?” I put a tinge of sweetness in my tone, hoping she will obey.

“I want fruit snacks.” Dear God, of course you do.

She toddles out of my room, going to do lord knows what, but I need to finish myself before I can start on her. Blow drying my hair so that at least it’s not sopping wet, I swipe on some mascara and lipstick and consider it a job decently done.

“Lennon Rose, you better be in your room getting dressed.” Mommy voice in full effect.

When I walk in, she’s in nothing but her underwear, laying on the bed talking to a stuffed owl.

“Into your clothes, please.” I pick up the summer shorts and shirt I’d laid out, and shove them over her little body. At least she complies, then letting me slide her feet into sandals and allowing me to buckle them.

“Mommy, did I used to drink your milk?” Lennon looks at my boobs, the opening to my sleeveless sweater down by her tiny face.

“You did, once upon a time.” A simpler time, a time where you didn’t ask questions like that. Especially not in public.

“Can I drink from my own?” She looks down at her chest.

I bite back a laugh, internally panicking as I look at the clock. “No you cannot. Now let’s go, get your bag and stuffed Tigger.”

With one bite of toast in my stomach, I shepherd us out the door and down to the garage, loading my daughter into the car and starting to drive for my mother’s house.

One huge plus of coming back to Washington, DC was that my mom lived ten minutes from us. She could watch Lennon during the day, save me a ton of money, and was a familial lifeline exactly at the time I needed her.

The morning was a tornado of hustling, tears, kisses, traffic and paperwork. When I finally sat down to my desk, files and files stacked upon it, I took a deep breath.

“Knock, knock.” Someone proceeded the action with speech.

Turning my head, a woman stood in the doorway to my small office. “Oh, hi. Sorry, I feel like it’s the first time I’ve sat down all day.”

“And it’s only nine o’clock, so you better take a few minutes.” She smiles conspiratorially. “I’m Jenna, I work in the office next door, so I thought I’d come over and introduce myself. You know, in case you need to borrow a paper clip or something.”

Her expression is open and friendly, her blue eyes and short blond bob pretty but smart, and I like her immediately. I extend a hand and she takes it. “Samantha Groff. I’ll stop over if I need a stapler, but don’t worry, I won’t steal it.”

She laughs. “You’re the new manager of the park rangers, right?”

I nod. “Yep, I am.” My phone rings, the first call of the day. “And that is probably a ranger right now.”

“Take it, I’ll stop over before lunch to see if you need anything. Good luck, and welcome!”

I take the call, suddenly flung into a crisis in Utah where two of the Jeeps have gone missing. Just another day in the life of a National Parks employee, but damn do I love my job. After college, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. I followed Derek out to Seattle, and just happened to fall into a job at Mount Rainier. For five years I worked my way up, pausing for a bit in the middle when I got pregnant with the huge surprise that is Lennon. And then my dream job came along back home, and I jumped at it. Used all of my connections within the organization, interviewed through rounds and directors, and finally landed the position.

It cost me the guy in the whole dream life scenario, but looking back, I wouldn’t change a thing.

Around one, Jenna pops her head in again. “Want to grab a bite? You look like you could use it, plus these walls are thin, and your phone has been ringing off the hook.”

“Does that lunch come with a margarita? Because I could really use one.” I survey the stacks of papers I’ve tried to organize on my desk.

“If you won’t tell, I won’t.” She winks, her cute floral midi dress swaying as I follow her out.

At least I get lunch with an adult for once. There aren’t sippy cups or sing-alongs in sight.