i've been alone with the kids since thursday.

that means i've done every meal, snack, nap and beddy routine, diaper change, bath, and drop off and pick up at preschool, daycare, ballet, and soccer. plus i have a job -- two actually. and last week was brutal for me at the chronic.

add to that three loads of laundry, cleaning, vacuuming, food shopping (with both kids), a birthday party, various logistical screw-ups, friends flaking on me, and what do you get?

total f-n burnout.

i've done it before and it wasn't this bad. i couldn't figure it out -- why was i losing it over finding parking at alta plaza playground and feeling like punching a wall at home? i mean i knew it was tough in the past, a logistical house of cards, but what up??? by yesterday, i was a seething mess.

then i figured it out. the two-year-old. boy.

parker was an angelic two-year-old. sweet, kind, adorable, funny, loving, articulate. i used to mock the whole "terrible two" mythology.

but, as they say,  payback is a bitch.

if anything doesn't go his way, roman lets out the most god-awful, piercing scream that would move  a zen master to murder. he averaged about 4 to 5 tantrums per hour this weekend -- full-on prone on the ground kicking and screaming type tantrums. back arching and screeching when you're trying to strap him in the carseat tantrums. often in public. once at a gelato shop. i feel like i'm living that doris lessing horror story about the monster baby, the fifth child.

parks never got a time-out. i can literally count the number in her lifetime. roman had at least 20 since thursday.

this is a new thing. it just kicked in recently, and thus i'm one spun out mother. i don't know how single moms do it. hats off to you, ladies, you're amazing.

dan just called from the airport. he's back. and he owes me...

i come to north beach for a myriad of reasons.

first, it is the old 'hood. the stomping grounds where dan and i fell in love and lived together for seven years. it's where we forged friendships with neighbors, shopkeepers, the old italian guys on columbus avenue, bartenders and waitressses, and cast members of beach blanket babylon and where we sipped bevvies outside of o'reilly's pub across the street outdoors on sunny days.

i come here for mani/pedis at nail care for you the vietnamese nail salon on grant avenue where they don't skimp on the massage part and throw in a hot paraffin dip free if you ask for it.

i come for the sandwiches at mario's bohemian cigar store on the corner of columbus and union. particularly the eggplant. and i don't even like eggplant. the turkey rocks, too.

we love to come to sodini's on sunday nights when ana handlman, hostess/bartendress extraordinaire runs the show. she knows the name of every other person who walks through the door and there are no reservations. you can smell the garlic down the block. it's homey and delicious and totally guido.

i come to the joe dimaggio playground with the kids and stop off at xox truffles, a little francias in the italian part of town, handmade by chocolatier jean mark gorce. coffee for mama, tiny truffles for all.

and i came today, seeking sunshine, which you can often find even when the rest of the city is shrouded. i spent the day writing in my friend elias' place, caffe sapore, on the southwest corner of lombard and taylor. good food, good vibes, and sunshine slanting through the big, southern-facing windows.

i'm so used to working at the chronicle on monday mornings that i think i'm kinda losing it today. that, and way too much coffee.

as i was backing out of the garage to take parker to school at 9 am, she squealed from the back seat, "oh. my. god!" and lo, there was roman tottering down the brick front steps of the house. he escaped lockdown. i promptly returned him to his father, obliviously reading the newspaper inside.

my baby turned two last thursday!! he's been so cute lately.

"how old are you?"

"i'm due," pointing a single finger at the questioner, a la sammy davis jr. we all think it's hilarious and make him do it over and over.

we hosted a happy-hour party with wine, beer, dan's killer chili, and nairem's strawberry shortcake at the panhandle playground on friday evening. he escaped from that also, and fortunately kaia, a five-year old party attendee, brought it to my attention.

"lisa, a little boy just left."

and there he was tooling along toward the public bathroom in the middle of the park. oy. he's definitely "due." and i need an assistant just to keep up with it. how does anyone have twin boys????

anyway, great weekend. we went to the power to the peaceful show on saturday, a free show in golden gate park that michael franti puts on every september. dan scored vip backstage passes (thanks, baby) and got there in time for alanis morisette's acoustic set. great show, great energy, great message. i'm so in love with franti.... (sorry, baby)

yesterday, parker and i dropped in to opera in the park, listened to a few arias, drank a juice box, and headed to the farmers' market where we scored a bunch of yummy late summer fruit and veggies.

and now i'm off to hike land's end and get my pacific-o....

my four-day labor day weekend included a trip to rancho nicasio in west marin to see my friend, slide guitarist extraordinaire roy rogers play outside on a gorgeous september day.

dan and i met roy, his wonderful wife gaynell, blistering blues harmonica player norton buffalo, and his lovely wife lisa on a trip to china in 2002. we were there as part of a global cultural festival that dan was photographing for our local dry cleaner (long story).

we watched roy and norton play together in beijing and wuhan, where we were mobbed like the beatles on their first trip to america. it was insane!

we visited the great wall, tianemen's square, and the forbidden city; feasted on peking duck and other delicacies specially prepared for us; drank tea and visited the little shops in the hutongs, and i personally indulged in much reflexolgy at the hotel. both norton and i got our asses kicked by the deadly chinese rice wine.

we hung out with roy, gaynell, norton, and lisa every day for two weeks and forged friendships for life.

jen came along to rancho nicasio on sunday with some enhanced brownies. the ranch is a killer venue -- western roadhouse-style with dead animal heads on the walls (ok, i was disturbed by the buffalo), a general store, post office, a big old bar with lots of knotty pine, and a huge lawn in the back where we spread our blankets and grooved to the blues. food was hearty and plentiful -- pulled pork, succulent tri-tip, cole slaw, farro salad, wine, and beer.

just before the show, gaynell took us backstage so roy could fill us in on some very bad news. buff, just back from playing harmonica with steve miller, checked himself into the hospital with walking pneumonia. while he was there, they ran some tests and diagnosed him with stage four adenocarcinoma in his lungs, brain, and possibly elsewhere.

lung cancer. he was a non-smoker. and a harmonica player. what a bitch slap from the universe.

the day was so perfect with the exception of such sad news, but it made me feel an urgency to enjoy what i have and not put things off till "the future." i'm sending out prayers and healing energy to buff, who is a very spiritual guy.

no one plays blues harmonica like norton buffalo.