Hey you, you folks who think hard-working stay-at-home-mom is an oxymoron. Don't think I haven't gotten your drift. When I've slept four hours, the baby won't stop screaming unless she's strapped to my chest, and you say, "What a great life you've got, hanging out all day and walking to the corner market." You, who think my life is ladies who lunch with strollers.

Well, today, you're right.

David nursed to sleep while I read a good novel. Then he slept. I wasn't exhausted, so could choose—nap or work? I made myself a cup of tea, unloaded the dishwasher, and worked for an hour. When he woke, we strolled looking at the gorgeous fall leaves. I found a great new café. He calmly sat in his high chair and ate. We strolled some more. He fell asleep. I bought new sneakers, picked up a book. When he woke, we went to a coffee shop and nursed over a cookie and the newspaper. Back home he played with his toys. I read some more of the paper.

It didn't hold. I spent the next three hours managing Mr. Fussy, but it was pretty sweet while it lasted.