I, too, craved escaping into a book, but my favorite part turned out to be the club part -- the evening when a gaggle of six friends circle together, drink wine, nibble on cheese, and talk about the book. It was 100 percent fun. I could tell most moms in the group were especially grateful for being able to finish their thoughts, heck, dare to have an entire adult conversation without hearing "Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!"

The concept of a good time with girlfriends is hardly exclusive to book clubs, of course. "I don't exercise regularly, but I value my weekly Zumba [cardio dance] sessions with other moms," says Wendy Fortson of Puyallup, Washington, mom of Alyssa, 4, and Austin, 15 months. "It gives me a chance to exercise and also not to worry about my kids. The time spent with these ladies is rejuvenating!"

I was devoted to my book club but couldn't find the time to actually read. I'd sheepishly admit "I'm almost finished," eat too many hors d'oeuvres because I didn't have anything to say, and try not to look shocked when crucial plotlines were discussed. When I remembered Rule #1, I bowed out of the book club.

While I continued to look for "me" time, Dashiell began looking for more "mom" time and entered a new clingy phase. But rather than put my search on hold,I decided to try getting some "me" time with him.

An excursion to CVS to find a more dewy, radiant moisturizer seemed doable with a baby until Dashiell managed to kick over an entire row of foundation while in his stroller. Undiscouraged, I went home and put on some music. Singing along while Dashie crashed his trucks on the rug made me feel like a younger, well-rested version of me. Then a new tune came on and Dashiell instantly jumped up and started to play air guitar with a block. Watching his plump little hand pretend to strum packed more gain than drain than anything I'd done all week and filled me with one of those teary, this-is-why-I'm-a-mom moments. I scooped him up and tickled him, which turned into a pillow fight that got him so riled up he refused to nap, often an ideal "me" time. Beth Bedrin-Lindgren, mom of 13-month-old twins Owen and Tigerlily in Elk Grove, California, manages to use naptime for herself most days. "I refuse to cook, clean, or fold laundry while they sleep. Instead, I read books or magazines, tweeze my eyebrows, or call friends. Those precious moments are just for me."

I, however, ended up turning on the TV so I could catch my breath and make dinner. Elizabeth Donovan of Centerville, Virginia, mom of Kathleen, 5, Amanda, 3, and Caroline, 1, also feels no guilt about using Elmo to help her start her day. "I turn on Sesame Street and sneak onto the deck to have my coffee and feel the breeze and the fresh air, " she says.

With a month nearly up and my rejuvenation bank account still empty, I was getting panicked. Then I got out of work a little early one day. Realizing I was alone and no one knew about it, I rushed home and put on my yoga DVD. I spent ten minutes breathing out anxiety and breathing in vitality, 15 minutes on the phone, then my babysitter and kids strolled in. I realized why Vieira was waking up at 5:00 and also why she was pissed. Even if you have help, or decide to skip food shopping for a Zen moment, you're not guaranteed to get it.

I started to think that maybe right now just isn't a "me"-time kind of stage in my life. Or maybe I needed to find ways to sneak it into every day like Jessica Seinfeld hiding broccoli in her cupcakes. But that wasn't what I'd set out to do. Then the phone rang. It was a friend inviting me to a girls' night out. Bingo.

At dinner, we laughed and ate and talked about everything: the election, a recent rash of dramatic thunderstorms, sex, which foods are worth buying organic, our husbands, school gossip, new restaurants, new kitchens, and, of course, we talked about our kids. But not all night, and when we did, we were really discussing how we feel as mothers.

That's when I discovered that the very best "me" time for me is any opportunity to check in with other women about this stage in my life that's filled with moments ranging from cuddly tickle fights to mystifying temper tantrums and a lot of self-questioning in between. After an hour or two of getting some much needed perspective, I have a better sense of who I am as a mom -- and as a person.

Francesca Castagnoli writes and blogs from Montclair, New Jersey, where she lives with her family.