Dear Journal: It's just after 8 p.m. and I'm sitting here by myself eating leftover rice with chicken and carrots from the dinner that the boys barely touched. The house is quiet and the front room is full of gift bags from friends who attended a baby shower Kate threw for me this morning.

I was very excited with the anticipation of seeing many of my friends. I put on nice clothes and make-up to show them that I haven't surrendered totally to the pandemonium that normally reigns in the house. The shower was scheduled for 11 a.m. and I had given Kate the names of about 30 friends to invite. As pleased as I was to see some people from former jobs and consulting assignments, I must admit I was disappointed that more of my longtime friends did not attend. I can understand having a scheduling conflict, but it would have been nice to get a card or a call to arrange a visit in lieu of attending the shower. It's funny the expectations we have of friends and family. In retrospect, I have had more support and help from people at my church whom I didn't even know six months ago than from people I have known for years.

I did have some good news from Meryl today. She told me that Alison, her friend from California , was picked by a Chinese couple to raise their infant daughter. They were giving her up for adoption for economic reasons, and the little girl is already in Alison's care. I am very happy for her and wish her all the best. I have met so many people during this past year who have yearned for the love of a child in their life. It's nice to know that you don't have to be married to experience the joys of parenthood, although it surely would be nice to have a partner, especially on bath nights.

The boys have been doing very well. There were more firsts this week. Both boys learned how to zipper and un-zip their pajamas and Rupert is starting to form parts of words like “banana” and “apple.” Rupert continues to test me—if I tell him something, such as “Don't close the door,” he will touch the door and act as if he is going to close it to see my reaction. He's had several time-outs this week, which for him is unusual. I know it's a normal part of a child's development to start acting more independent.

Potty training for Rupert has been put on hold for the time being, partly because his system is not cooperating from a timing perspective—most of his bowel movements are made during breakfast or nap time, so unless I can get him to urinate, there's not much he can do on the potty. I feel partly responsible. I'm not getting up early enough in the morning to start their breakfast, and, consequently, all their meals, naps, and play times are 30 to 45 minutes later than they should be. Part of the problem is that I'm staying up late to get work done (organizing my taxes, answering e-mail, unpacking boxes).

Nicki, on the other hand, is driving me crazy with his curiosity. He has climbed on to the kitchen table, chairs—you name it and he has climbed it. And he keeps doing it, even after having a time-out as a result of his actions. He also can't keep his hands off the kitchen cabinets. I think I'm going to have to surrender and get the child-proof locks for all the doors, since I can't get anything because I have to keep after him. He is, however, becoming more affectionate. Several times a day he will take my hand and place it on the side of his cheek and snuggle up to it.

Cooking continues to be a challenge for me. I've always been better at collecting recipes than I have been at making them. After making my umpteenth meal of mashed potatoes with carrots and ground turkey, I decided that I had to start adding some variety to the dinner menu. So dinner on Wednesday was pancakes and applesauce, and we had sea bass and rice for dinner on Thursday. Spaghetti and homemade sauce was on the menu last night; sautéed chicken and rice with carrots are planned for this evening. I can't even imagine what I'm going to do for the next 18 years having to cook 365 meals every year. Just the thought of it is too much to contemplate.

I took a look at my hands today, and I couldn't believe how dry and cracked my skin was and how sad my nails looked. I have spent very little time on myself this past month, and I guess that's par for the course when one becomes a mother. Between changing diapers, cooking and cleaning up I must wash my hands at least 15 to 20 times a day. I know I need a hair cut, and I don't remember the last time I shaved my legs. On the other hand, I've gotten more hugs from my children in the past month than I have from anyone else in a whole year.

I spent almost an hour preparing and cooking dinner tonight. The boys didn't eat much this morning and their afternoon snack was some cookies in the car. When Rupert took only a few bites, I felt like saying “Don't you realize how much I worked to make your dinner?” But instead I just acknowledged that he wasn't really hungry and got the boys started on their bath a little early.

Every morning when I walk into their bedroom, Rupert greats me with a big smile, holds up his arms and says “Upa.” How can I refuse to pick up this little boy whose only desire in life is to be loved? Of course, my arms get quite a workout when Nicki also wants to be held, but I'd rather get my exercise holding my two precious children than go to a gym and sweat it out with weights.

I desperately need to organize my adoption expenses and other financial paperwork so I can complete my taxes. It's been along time since I've been on a budget, and I'm not as good at it as I should be right now. There's enough money in the bank to pay the bills for now. I need to start up my meditation and yoga practices again. I need to focus on what I will be doing once I return to the work force and concentrate on what my path in life will be. I've got to learn to go to bed at a decent hour so I don't start the day late and then feel that I'm trying to play catch up throughout the day.