A Full Heart

Just a quick post to share how amazing my little boy is.  After a long weekend of visitors and social events tonight was the first night that I was alone with my boy.  I decided that we would have movie night and watch the original Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.  This is the first year that he has any real grasp of Christmas so I am trying to show him as many traditions as we can.  I wasn't sure if he would be into watching it, but he was.  He watched the entire thing intently and when it was over he kept yelling "More Mommy!"  He loved it.  The "snow monster" apparently stayed with him and he has been playing snow monster for the rest of the evening.  He even walked up to me and said, "Mommy, I yike Rudolph."  So f-ing sweet he kills me.

Then as we were winding down for bed he said "I put Mommy bed."  He went into his room and got his Lambie out of his bed.  He brought it out and put it next to my head and told me, "Cose da eyes Mommy, cose eyes."  So I did and I pretended to snore.  He then stood next to my chair and rubbed my shoulder and sang You Are My Sunshine (I sing him that every night before he goes to sleep).  Then he climbed up on my chair and leaned over and kissed my cheek.  Then he stood next to my chair and kissed his hand and then placed it on my lips.  Then he whispered, "Goodnight Mommy, Goodnight my yove" and he walked away.

This is the exact routine that I do every single night before I leave him in his bed for the night.  Half the time he is playing and (it seems) not paying attention to what is going on but he clearly gets it.  And he repeated it tonight to put me to sleep.  This little boy is the sweetest, most wonderful little being on the entire planet and I feel so blessed to be able to be a part of his life.  My heart is full indeed.

Thankful

So the holiday season is upon us.  The holidays are always a mixed bag for me.  On the one hand, I am hugely aware of how lucky I am and all the amazing people that surround my family during the holiday season.  On the other hand, well...the holidays are always stressful.  Lots of time with family members and lots of time to think about how my family isn't how I would want to define it.

Growing up my parents divorced when I was 8 years old.  And they switched with another couple.  Yes, you read that right.  My step dad and my step mom used to be married.  There was my mom and Dad, and their best friends down the street J and C.  Now my mom's married to J, and my Dad's married to C.  It sounds like it would be a nice little happy switch, but that isn't how it went down at all.  It was nasty and ugly and horrific in every sense of the word.  I tell you this not to take a trip down memory lane, but to possibly give you a glimpse into why I am the way that I am.  Once I "grew up" I just knew that I would NEVER get divorced.  No way in hell.  Especially if there were kids involved.  I would do everything in my power to make sure that my children NEVER went through what I went through as a kid.  And believe me, I did.  I worked my ASS off to try and save my relationship.  I hung in there far longer than I probably should have and spent countless hours in therapy trying to do something...anything! to make it work.  And you know what?  Sometimes things are out of our control.  It takes two people to make a relationship work.  And no matter how hard one person wants it, he/she can't do it alone.  And sometimes the best case scenario becomes to walk away and try and keep things civil and friendly for your children's sake.  So I did.  We did.  But it still haunts me.  I SWORE I would not end up like my parents, yet here I am.  Absolutely kills me.  Part of what I had to learn how to do in therapy was not only to mourn my loss of a relationship, but also to learn that it was okay to move on after "failing" in my relationship.  And I had to learn that even though I had to give up on my dream of a perfect, long-lasting relationship, that didn't mean I had to give up on ALL of my dreams.

When my parents got divorced my brother went to live with my Dad (along with 3 other kids that are my step brothers and sisters), and I went to live with my mom.  By myself.  So I not only lost my parents being together, I also sort of lost a sibling.  This has had a profound affect on my life as well.  I grew up with a big brother until I was 8.  From then on, I grew up as an only child.  And you know what?  Being an only child was lonely for me.  I know it isn't that way for everyone, but for me, it was.  I missed my brother.  I missed having someone to wreak havoc with on family vacations.  I missed running down the stairs to see what Santa brought with him on Christmas.  I missed talking back and forth between the walls of our bedroom after our parents had put us to sleep at night.  I was a lonely kid.  And after my relationship broke up, it was almost more than I could bear to think that my son would grow up feeling lonely as well.  Not only had I failed on the relationship front, but I felt like I was failing my son as well by not being able to provide him a sibling.  After much thought and talking with my therapist, I decided I wasn't going to let that dream go.  And you all know how that brings me to where I am today.

But again, for the holiday season, I have been somewhat sad.  My life isn't how I wanted it.  Yes, I have SO MANY amazing things in my life, but I still feel somewhat stigmatized to be the single, pregnant lesbian at all the family functions.  My family is hugely supportive and wonderful, I should note, so this feeling comes purely from inside me.  But it is still there.  So as an exercise for myself, I am going to list what I am thankful for this Thanksgiving.

First and foremost, I am thankful for this:

And I am also very thankful to be almost halfway through what appears to be a normal and healthy pregnancy.  And I am SO thankful to be bringing a new little being into my family sometime around the end of April 2009.  And with that, here is your first belly shot, taken about a week ago at 16 weeks along:
Yes, I am huge.  Thank you for noticing.  I am short and so with both of my babies, I got VERY big, somewhat early on and just kept getting bigger.  It should be noted that I have gained less than 5 pounds so far in this pregnancy, so I swear, the majority of that is all baby.

I am thankful for my family.  So thankful.  Specifically my mom, my stepdad, my brother and his wife and all of my step siblings.  My dad and stepmom are also a great part of my life.  I have had issues with the step mother in the past, but we have mostly worked through them and I am thankful to be at a place of peace with her and able to enjoy my Dad as much as I do.

I am thankful for The Ex.  While we have gone through some rough times I still love her and always will.  We grew up together.  We fell in love and bought a house and started a family.  You can't do those things twice.  So I am glad that she and I did them together.  And I am thankful that although our relationship didn't ultimately work out, we fought hard to make sure that our son will never experience what we did growing up.  And I am thankful that we both make a commitment to put our son first and focus on him.

I am thankful for the extended family as well.  I am lucky enough to have both of my grandmothers still alive (ages 92 and 86) and healthy and a large part of our lives.  I have great aunts and uncles and amazing cousins.  And we are all thankful that we live in close proximity and are able to enjoy each other over the holidays.

My friends are the greatest.  I have several very close girl friends that I can call on for anything who will go through the tough times, as well as the great times with me.  On that note, I would like to congratulate the one of them who, after a long haul, is pregnant with twins and I could not be happier for her and her husband.   But seriously, my friends rock.  I love them with all that I am.

I am grateful to be healthy and to have all the above mentioned people healthy as well.  We sometimes take this for granted, but given what happened almost a year ago, I feel it is worth mentioning.

And as referenced above, I would like to end this post saying that I am thinking of my step brother C.  Last year, three days after Christmas he was driving home and got a flat tire.  He pulled over to the side of the road to change the tire and was hit by a truck driving by.  He was killed instantly.  He would have been 39 this year.  It was a major shock to all of our family and this has been a tough year for all of us.  Going through our first set of holidays without him has been hard, but it just makes me more thankful for all that we DO have.  Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving.

Follow Up

I just wanted to thank everyone who commented on my last post.  Both through the comments here and through my email.  You all had respectful and insightful things to say.  That's one of the things I love about this blog.  I am not going to stop working for this client and I never really even considered doing so.  He is who he is and the fact is that I still do respect him for what he has done and achieved throughout his life.  He normally treats me with great respect, and I have no doubt that if he knew that I was gay, none of those things would have been said in front of me.  Don't get me wrong, they still would have been said, but most likely not in my presence.  

It was for that reason that I found the whole encounter so fascinating.  There was something about being able to hear, completely uncensored, what people like him think.  After the election and seeing all the signs and the facades that people put on, it was almost refreshing to hear the truth, as ugly as it was.  He wasn't hiding behind any religion, he wasn't talking about "saving families," he was being honest about how he felt about gay people in general.  I almost wish the people from the Yes on 8 campaign had had the balls to do what he did.  To try and spin it so that they were supposedly supporting families and what their kids would be taught in school was just ridiculous.  I may not like it, but I have to respect someone who just says it like it is.  And my client did that.  He said it like he saw it.  

One thing that I should point out is that while I was sitting at that desk listening to what they were saying, I really wasn't thinking about myself.  For some reason it wasn't as if he was talking directly about me.  But what I was thinking about was if my son had been sitting in that room hearing what I was hearing.  The Boy is still too young but at some point he will hear the words "gay" to describe his family and his Moms.  I sat there thinking about him hearing this and what his reaction would be.  That was a lot harder for me to swallow than if I was just hearing it for my ears alone.  I am very thankful that he didn't hear it but it did make me acutely aware of the fact that most likely at some point in his life he will hear his Moms described in some type of a negative fashion.  I just hope I have raised him to have the knowledge and strength to understand that we all have different opinions and ways of life and that that is okay.

And like I have always said, I do not expect all people to have the same morals and opinions that I do.  It really is what makes America great.  That sounds cheesy, but it is true.  The same thing that allows me to talk openly, on the internet no less, about my "gay lifestyle" and my child with another gay woman, are the same rights that allow him to speak as he did.  So while it was an uncomfortable situation for me, I am not taking it personal, and I am not wasting too much of my time thinking and dwelling on it.  I have an amazing little boy, I have another child on the way and I have a hugely supportive family that has loved me since the day I was born and will continue to love and support me throughout my entire life.  That is really all I need.

"We should take the chickens out, and put the gays in"

So as I was driving to my last client of the day I knew that I would be done and home about an hour before my boy was to return to the house.  As I drove I was compiling the happy, warm fuzzy blog post I was going to do about what a wonderful weekend we had together.  I was going to mention some of the truly sweet moments that make me smile and make me appreciate what being The Boy's Mommy means.  But then something happened at my client's office and now I have to turn my happy blog post into an angry lesbian rant post.  I apologize in advance for that, but it has to be done.

I should give a little bit of background.  I have mentioned before that I am a self employed bookkeeper for a living.  I have been doing this for about 10 years so at this point all of my new business comes from referrals.  I don't advertise and I don't answer ads anymore.  So about a year and a half ago I got a referral for a new client from an accountant I know.  At the time he warned me, "Um, you should probably know that this guy is very conservative and that he subscribes to the "Old Boys Club" kinda attitude..."  

"So keep the gay thing on the DL, is that what you're saying?" I asked him smiling.  He said I didn't have to necessarily do that, but he just wanted me to know that before meeting the guy.  Good to know.

He was absolutely right on in his assessment I would later find out.  This guy in particular has more money than God.  Seriously.  Like nothing I have ever worked with before.  And he and his "cronies" sit around a big table (very Sopranos like) and laugh loudly and tell jokes and talk about their guns etc...  So it would be fair to assume that they have very different lifestyles, and most definitely politics, than my own.  I should also interject that I happen to like this guy.  He is a hard working man who has earned every penny of his money.  I respect that.  He has always treated me fairly and has even referred me to two other people for work.  

I have mentioned before on this blog that I am not someone who gets up on my soapbox and tries to convince people of how they should think and how they should live.  Therefore my normal practice when I get a new client is to kind of assess who they are and what they believe in and then divulge as much or as little about my life as is needed.  I think it goes without saying that I have never told this guy I am gay.  He knows I have a small child, and he knows that currently I am a single mother.  He just assumes that my previous relationship was with a man.  I never correct him.  In fact it is for this reason that this client was the LAST person that I told I was pregnant.  I was very nervous about telling him.  And, it turns out, for good reason.  I believe his reaction was, "WHAT?!?!  Didn't plan very well on that one, did you?"  I answered, "Yes, actually this was planned."  He said, "Well then apparently you have some sort of man in your life, I presume?"  I answered, "Actually it wasn't about that.  It was very important to me that my son have a sibling..."  He then cut me off and said something to the extent of, "Well, I certainly hope you make better decisions with my money than you do with your own life."  Nice.  I moved on and we haven't spoken of it since.

Okay, enough back story.  So I get into his office today and am sitting at his desk working away.  Most of the time he leaves when I get there, but he was hanging around today chatting with people.  There was two other people in his office at this time and I believe the conversation started with something to the effect of, "Well I have been around a long time and I have never seen the economy look like this..."  

Someone else (a woman; no clue who she is) said, "Well, didn't your pick for President win?" She says this laughing...  

"HA!" comes the reaction from my client.  

Other guy in the room (OG) chimes in and says, "Out of all the things I voted for in this election, only 1 thing won or passed.  And that was prop 8!"  HA HA HA all around for all three of them.  

Woman says, "The only thing I voted for that won besides prop 8 was the chickens."  

Client man says, "The chickens?  I believe in free market and if people want to shell out their money for organic chickens, so be it.  I don't think we need to change anything because the poor little chickens are kept in cages that are too small..."  

Then OG says, "I have a friend who has a chicken farm and they aren't kept in cages.  Pens, yes, but cages, no."  "Plus," he goes on to say, "The people who are mad about the cages?  The gays!  The gays are pissed off because apparently California likes the chickens better than they like the gays!"  HA HA HA HA  "They should throw the gays in those cages; that'll teach 'em!"

Client pipes up, "Well that's pretty much where they belong anyway.  Don't they know that the people already voted on this issue?  And for some dumb-ass liberal judges (CA Supreme Court) to come in and overturn that is just ridiculous.  We just had to shoot them down again.  But it isn't over.  Those gays will never let this issue die.  We just have to keep shooting them down...  We should put them in the cages just so we don't have to keep fighting the issue."

I could go on but I assume you get the drift of it.  Holy shit.  Never in my life have I been in this kind of a situation before.  Now I am sure there are a bunch of you out there who think I should have turned around, stood up in their faces and told them what a bunch of bigoted assholes they really are.  But I didn't.  Because really, what would that have done?  Would that have changed their opinions about anything?  Would it have shown them that someone they like, and have recommended to other people, is not harming their little society in the slightest?  I think not.  It wouldn't have changed a thing.  Except maybe my job.  So I kept my back turned towards my work, felt about an inch tall, and more uncomfortable than I have possibly ever been in my entire life, and then I went home.  On the way out I thought about the moral dilemma.  Do I want to work for people like this?  I don't really have to.  Fortunately I have a pretty large business and enough contacts that I could probably quit this client (and the two others that he has recommended that share his politics and views on life) and find new ones.  But isn't that kind of cutting off my nose despite my face?  Who does that hurt?  Who does that teach a lesson to?  Not my client.  He doesn't care.  He certainly wouldn't think any differently about his politics or morals based on my quitting because he is an ass.  In fact it would probably support his claim about gays because I wouldn't have enough of a backbone to take a little criticism.  I had to quit and run away.  But wow, it was a weird situation.  Never in my life have I sat in a room and listened to someone talk about me (even if they didn't know they were talking about me) and my family in that way.

As I have stated on this blog, prop 8 was really the only thing that I felt strongly enough to break my "no politics" rule about my blog.  And for the life of me, I honestly couldn't understand why people would vote yes on prop 8.  I really didn't get it.  And today I was surrounded by people who "explained" it to me.  Granted no one in that room knew or knows that I am gay so they can't be blamed for knowingly saying those things in front of me.  It was like I was a fly on a wall.  And if only I could have flown away.  I can't believe that, in California, in 2008, that people still think like this.  But they do.  And apparently I work for them.

A Project Completed

So before The Boy was born, like many parents-to-be, The Ex and I went out and bought a camcorder.  We planned on videotaping the birth as well as many other precious moments that we were sure we wouldn't want to miss.  And video we did.  We video-ed my tummy with The Boy still in it; rolling all around.  We video-ed the trip to the hospital, the entire birth, and many other moments after that.  If we wanted to see said moments we would all crowd around this tiny camcorder and look at the little screen.  After a while we figured out how to hook the camcorder up to the TV so we could watch things there.  But the entire reason I wanted to buy it was so that I could make DVD's for my kids to watch later.  When I was young my parents had one of those old super-8 machine's with the ginormous light at the top of it and they "taped" stuff that we would watch back on a big white projector screen that we would set up in our living room.  It had no sound, but man, did I love seeing those old video's.  I dreamed of giving my kids a more modern version of the same thing.

But see, this is where it got tough.  My computer was a PC.  I had been a PC girl my entire life.  But for the life of me, I could not get the damn little cassette tapes to somehow go onto my computer and then get onto a DVD.  It seemed impossible.  I talked to all the "computer guru" people I knew, I went to the big stores, I bought fire wires and cables and all sorts of crap.  All to no avail.  Those precious tapes were damned to be on that little camcorder forever.  Until.  Until in February of 2008, I bought my first imac.  Oh the love I felt.  For so many reasons.  But the main reason being that if I plugged the cord from my camcorder into the back of my mac, it just popped on the screen and allowed me to transfer any and all of my tapes into imovie.  It was the ease that I had dreamed of.  And so at that point we began the project of making The Boy's birth video.

And today I finally finished it.  Just shy of his third birthday, but most importantly, BEFORE his brother or sister arrived, it is done.  It is almost 25 minutes long and it took about three months to do it, off and on.  I incorporated all the photos as well as all the movie clips we have and put it all to music and made titles and commentary throughout.  I am pretty proud of it.  It shows Mommy with her HUGE belly before the birth, and documents the birth itself, as well as all the people who came to the hospital to meet The Boy and goes through when they wheeled me out in my wheelchair to take him home for the first time.  I cannot tell you how many tears I shed while making this thing.  And along with that I can't tell you how much I cry every single time I watch it, or work on it.  It is just such an emotional time.  Not only is the birth of any child emotional, but obviously The Ex and I were still together during this time.  We had been having problems, but we were still very much a couple.  And I wanted The Boy to know that.  So I put in many clips and comments that were SO hard to, not only look at, but include.  Every time I worked on it I tried to put my mind back where we were right when he arrived, and make it from that point of view.  Not my current jaded point of view.  But it is so important to me that The Boy know that he was conceived out of the love of his two Mommies and that even though we aren't together now, that when he came here, we were.  

But that makes it very hard for me to watch.  Such hopes and dreams.  And since The Ex moved out on The Boy's 6 month birthday, it is sad to me that he didn't get to live with that vision very long.  And while making this I have realized that I am still quite pissed about it.  Not necessarily pissed at how I was treated, but pissed over what The Boy missed out on.  Pissed that he will never know the previous 5 years before he was here and how much his Mom and Mommy loved each other.  But I don't want to dwell on the past.  The project is done.  My project for my boy.  I know as he gets older he will absolutely LOVE to have this.  And even now we watch it and talk about what is going to happen when Mommy has the second baby.  Since I had a c-section with him (emergency) and will have a voluntary c-section with the second, I think it helps him to understand what will happen when Mommy goes to the hospital to have his little brother or sister.  And since my tummy is getting quite large (another post for another day, and yes, I will include photographic evidence of said tummy) he is starting to understand for real that there is another baby in there and what that means.  This project will help him get even further with that.  And it will also show him how very much I love that little boy.  Even if I do cry like an idiot every single time we watch it.

What?!?! He's Smart!

Just thought we needed to lighten the mood a little after my post from this morning.  And in case you're wondering...yes, those are Mr. Potato Head glasses.

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

I don't write much about The Ex on this blog because I respect her and I respect her privacy. I am going to let my shield down a little bit because I feel like, for anyone who has gone through a breakup, this post needs to be said. It is damn hard to break up with someone. Especially someone who you truly thought you would spend the rest of your life with. And even when we think we are over it, something will happen to bring that tear to your eye and remind you that life has a way of doing what it wants. That no matter how much you plan and hope, it is going to go its own way.

I have mentioned briefly on here that The Ex is buying herself a new house. Like everywhere in the US, the housing market is in the crapper here in California. And because of that, there are houses on the market that have been foreclosed upon for a MUCH lower price than they would normally sell for. Now keep in mind this generally means that the house has been somewhat thrashed. And buying a house in foreclosure is not all roses and honey. The process is hard, the appraisals are hard, and often the condition of the house itself is more than hard. That is the case with the house that The Ex has bought. She moved in this last weekend.

I need to have a little aside here to note something about The Ex. She is a handy-woman extraordinaire. That girl is a master with a drill and a saw and a...oh who am I kidding? The tools! The shit she uses to make nasty things come out beautiful. In the 8 years that we were together she managed to make our house look quite beautiful and elegant. And the majority of the time she either built it from scratch, or was able to refinish it in a way that made it look brand new. We often joked that she missed her calling and should have "flipped houses" as a career. So when she found this old craftsman house, for a STEAL of a price, with original woodwork and crown moldings and amazing columns of wood that had not been painted since the house was built in 1915, she knew she could not turn it down. So she bought it. Knowing her as well as I do, I knew that this was THE project for her. I have absolutely no doubt that she is capable of making this house a beautiful, amazing house that will sell for hundreds of thousands of dollars more than she paid for it. She has the ability and the talent to make this house into what it once was.

That being said, the house in its current condition is just...scary. To say the least. I took The Boy over there on Sunday to see "Mom's new house." It really is a diamond in the rough. I see the original details and craftsman wooding that she saw when she bought it. I can see far enough into the future to see what it will become. But right now? The driveway is too narrow for even her small car to park in (in fact she scraped her door trying to park in it). The stairs are cracked and broken. The paint is completely chipped off. And then you go inside... The front rooms are not all that bad. But the kitchen? It smells of urine and poop. There are no working appliances. The windows have cracks in them from where people threw rocks through them. The one bathroom has walls covered in mold. The sink doesn't work because it leaks and is therefore shut off. The bathtub is somewhat rotted and has a sad metal ring over it where a shower curtain must have once hung. Some of the lights don't work. The house is on a busy street right across from a huge church and next door to a "super mercado" that has Mexican blankets hanging in the windows as curtains. The next door neighbors informed her nicely that they sometimes like to have sex outdoors so she might want to invest in curtains. I could go on...

She showed us around this house and told us of her plans for all the rooms and made sure that we knew we were just here to see the "before" of what will become. Meanwhile The Boy is so thrilled to see her and wants to play with her toolbox and run his cars through her new house. He sits down on the kitchen floor to play with a tool as we all sort of inwardly cringe at the thought of him sitting on that floor. He looks lovingly up to his Mom and says, "Mom, sit! Play wit me!" And she does. And as she is offering me up the remainder of her dishwasher detergent (obviously no dishwasher here) she starts to cry a little. And then a lot. I go over to her and put my arms around her and just hold on. This house is the result of our demise. She is putting on a brave face but really...she doesn't want to be refinishing a house at this stage of her life. She already did that with the first house that we bought together and then sold 2 years later. She is completely starting over.

And as I packed The Boy into my car and watched him blow her kisses and scream "Love you Mom..." out the window as we drove away I just lost it. I had one of those, "How the hell did we get here?" moments. I mean really. When we met over 8 years ago and started our life together we had no idea that now, 8 years later, our son would not be living in the same house with both of his moms. That we would consider each other best friends, but not lovers. We were so in love and had such good intentions that it would last a lifetime. And now? Now she is starting over in a shithole of a house that she has to re-do from scratch. I am pregnant and alone. And sometimes the world just seems so unfair. In terms of timing, she left me the first time back when The Boy was 6 months old. That is almost 2 1/2 years ago. We did briefly reconcile, but really the relationship has been permanently damaged from that point on. And most days? Most days I am okay with it. Most of the time I KNOW that we did the right thing for each other and for our son. And most days I am very thankful for the relationship that we have now. But yesterday? Yesterday I was just sad. Life doesn't always give you what you want. Life doesn't go the way we plan it. And even when you think you have adjusted and moved on, something will happen that will make it hurt all over again. Just like it did when it first happened.

A whole lot of nothing

So tomorrow I hit week 16 of this pregnancy. The good news is that I am finally far enough into the second trimester bliss that I am willing to write about it without fear that a bout of nausea will come kicking just despite me. But the bad news is that I am not really writing all that much. During the first trimester all I could come up with to write about on my blog was the horrible things that were being associated with my early pregnancy. I had a hard time with the first trimester. And rather than turn this blog into an evil "I'm not grateful for this pregnancy" blog, I just shut up. I figured I would blog the hell out of the second trimester to make up for it. Plus, since I am being a typical parent and have not done ONE THING for this second baby so far, I wanted to have some sort of record of things. (I mean seriously. I haven't read one book, I haven't written one word down in a journal, I haven't taken one picture...nothing). But now my head is full of posts I want to write and then never get around to doing so.

Some examples: Weekly pregnancy updates complete with day to day details of the very first time I felt my little bundle move. The annoying-ness of all things maternity wear. The bizarre twist of fate that for some reason during this pregnancy my hair is HORRIFIC. Last pregnancy I had that beautiful hair that never fell out and got all full and luscious, but this time? Dry and breaking off. Weird... And I also wanted to spend some time talking about doing this pregnancy alone and how that has been. But I have done none of the above. I also have so many other posts brewing about in my head that have nothing to do with this pregnancy at all. But there is just so little time in the day. And when I really should be putting together a coherent post for all of my readers (all 5 of you), I end up just catching up on my reading of blogs rather than posting. After all, I would rather read what is going on with all of you than actually tell you about myself.

So why am I telling you all of this? I don't really know. Perhaps because I was sitting here on a Monday and catching up on my blog reading when it came to me that I really needed to do some writing. Perhaps because this was a particularly tough weekend and I have been contemplating blogging about it. Or perhaps because I am just a really bad blogger and I wanted to subject you all to my ramblings. Either way I am annoyed at my lack of posts and lack of content. This blog was created by me, for ME, to document series of my life. I need to get back to doing that. Real posts will be coming soon. Go back to your Monday now...

Fluke, or turning point?

So I don't want to jinx anything so I am not making any official declarations or anything...BUT...this is the second night in a row that my boy has used the potty!!!  I am beside myself with joy.  Yesterday after his bath he was playing around in the bathroom naked (we have a little space heater in there so he was enjoying that) when he grabbed his [ahem] boy parts.  My mom asked him if he wanted to use the potty and he said yes.  So she put a little stool up to the regular potty (he wanted that one, NOT his little boy potty) and asked if he wanted to sit or stand (he had watched his Poppy going potty over the weekend and was fascinated with the standing).  He said stand but then decided he wanted to sit.  So he grabbed onto the sides of the big potty and held himself over it and went pee!  We all clapped and yelled for him and he got off and went around to flush.  Then he said, "again!" and did it again.  The first time was a little pee but each time after he was only eeking out like 3 drops.  But I don't care, that counts!  My mom was there, I was there and The Ex was there so we all made a huge fuss out of it.  After three times of going and flushing we got him dressed and he got a Thomas the train that he had been waiting for and knew he would only get when he used the potty.  He talked about the potty for the rest of the night.  But I was afraid it was a fluke...

So tonight I had considered putting him in big boy pants when he got home from school and trying again.  He came home in the foulest of moods and I quickly decided tonight wasn't the night to push the potty thing.  So we went about our evening.  After dinner he was talking to his Mom on the phone when she asked him if he was playing with the new train that he got for using the potty yesterday.  He said, "Bye bye Mom," and handed the phone back to me and said, "Mommy I go potty gan."  I asked if he wanted to go pee pee on the potty again and he said yes and ran in there.  So I stripped him down and got the stool and he climbed up.  This is the time of day when he goes poop almost every day so I told him that this was the perfect place to go poop if he had to and guess what?  He did!  Like yesterday with the pee pee, it was just the tiniest of bits, but enough to see brown on the potty bottom (I know, TMI, but I am excited).  Also like yesterday he had to get up and flush and then do it again.  We did this about 4 times and each time he either made a little poop or had some drops of pee pee.  With the poop thing I had to introduce wiping so now each time he wants a square of toilet paper to wipe, and then he throws that in the toilet before flushing and yelling, "One more!" and climbing back up.  He did it about 5 times until he told me he was done.  We celebrated (just the two of us this time) and then put on jammies and went out to have our celebratory lollipop (his choice).  I called his Mom and my mom and we all told him how proud we were of him and I came in here to write this blog entry when...

He came in and said, "Again potty Mommy.  More pee pee!"  And guess what?  He actually did it again.  He had his diaper on but he came and told me he had to go and he did.  Again, we are talking like a tiny little stream the first time and seriously like 2 drops each time after but I will take it.  Now again, I am not doing anything but documenting the first real times that my boy has used the potty.  I have no expectations of him (knocking on all sources of wood around me) and am not even using the phrase "...training," BUT we have two nights in a row.  And we have never had that before.  Pictured above, the many times before the last two nights when he would sit on his little potty and read books.  That's all he would do, mind you, is just sit there and read books.  He could sit there for an hour and not one drop of pee would come out.  But I thought the picture was appropriate.

Oh, and I have to mention that while all this is going on tonight, I am feeling my other little baby moving around inside me.  I have felt it for about a week on and off, not really sure if it's the little bundle or gas, but tonight it was pretty clear.  Good day.

Weekend Wrap Up

So this time last weekend I was firmly on the side of Julie when she posted her post entitled "T.G.T.M." I had had a rough weekend with The Boy and was most definitely looking forward to dropping him off at school on Monday morning. This week? Not so much. We had such a lovely weekend. Maybe it's because I know a new baby will (hopefully) be joining our lives soon, or maybe it's because he is growing into such an amazing little boy, but this weekend I sincerely enjoyed every single minute with my little dude. He was fantastic the entire weekend. I don't think he cried once. (Which was a nice change because during the week? Not so much).

On Friday we both had a haircut day. He got his cut and then I had my hair done. Of course his haircut takes all of 8 minutes (seriously...she RULES!!!) and mine takes about 3 hours. But during my three hours he got to go to Gigi's house and play and take a nap. He loves to nap at her house because she has black out shades in his room and it is like a little hovel in there. He sleeps great. Then Friday night we babysat his cousin. My mom and step dad came over and we ordered a pizza. I was feeling pretty lousy from my cold (thanks, Boy!) so they came over to help. Could not have gone more smoothly. The two kids played together great, ate pizza together, and then promptly went to sleep. My niece was asleep by 7:30 after not making a PEEP. She quietly smiled, shut her eyes, and fell asleep in The Boy's playroom. She was good as gold. The Boy followed suit about an hour later. And since I had given a spare key to my brother and his wife, I too went to bed. I fell asleep by about 9:30pm. My brother and his wife came and got my niece at around 11:30 (slept right through it) and headed out. What could have been a chaotic night was just lovely and everyone got good rest.

Saturday he was supposed to go with his Mom to a birthday party. But both the birthday girl, and his Mom got a nasty case of the flu. I had scheduled a pedicure with a friend (assuming that The Boy would be at the party) that I was bummed I would have to cancel. But not so! My mother (gotta love her) came and had lunch with us, and then took The Boy. He went and did errands with her (They went to Depot! He told me all about it. Several times, he was so excited). Then he slept in the hovel again, thus ensuring an amazing nap. I got to have my toes done with my BFF and catch up on gossip. Then instead of going home and working, which is what I should have done, I took advantage of an afternoon without The Boy and headed to Costco for some shopping. I was craving king crab legs and they have them there. But I found oh-so-much more! They had a bunch of gifts out for Christmas already. I pretty much did all of The Boy's Christmas shopping. And birthday shopping too! (His birthday is 10 days after Christmas). I only spent a little over $100 and I got him like 10 gifts! How happy was I? I very rarely shop without him with me, so this was a great chance! I was so happy.

Then the gay boyfriends came over that night for king crab leg dinner. Of course I made them cook it all, but it was fantastic! The Boy was so cute with B (one of the GBF). They sat in front of the fire and "had dinks." The Boy with his special apple juice (he usually doesn't get juice), and B with his wine. They had water crackers with sun dried tomato cheese spread on top and about every 5 minutes The Boy would yell, "Cheers!" and clink glasses with him. It was too cute. Of course the fun coupled with the monster nap at his Gigi's earlier ensured that he didn't fall asleep until almost 10:00pm. Although he was in bed shortly after 8:00 and just sat in there and talked and played and was good as gold. I went in around 9:45pm when he was calling my name. "Why aren't you asleep?" I asked.

"I not tired," he answered.

Then, "Mommy...I show you something?"

"What do you need to show me?"

"Pick a me up, pick up."

"No, I am not falling for that..."

"Okay..." I picked him up but made sure he was still in his crib. I didn't walk anywhere with him. "What do you need to show me?"

Squeezes my neck and says, "Biggest hug." "And kiss too." And then he gives me a kiss. Then he says, "Ok. Tat's all. I go nigh nigh."

I put him back in his crib and he layed down and shut his eyes. He was asleep in less than 10 minutes. I swear to God I could eat this kid up. So fucking sweet he kills me. Even if it is 10:00 at night.

Sunday was more of the same but I won't bore you with it. We just had a fabulous weekend together, me and my boy. We got everything done that needed to be done and just really enjoyed hanging out together. I actually considered calling in sick to work today to spend more time with him (in my defense, I still do have a pretty nasty cold...so it wouldn't completely be a lie...). But I didn't. I dropped him off at school and came to work. But I am still smiling.

My little baby is growing up...

My "baby" is becoming a little boy. He shows me ways he is growing up every single day. I thought, for posterity sake, I would post a few of them here:

• The other night when watching election coverage there was a map of the United States on the TV screen. The Boy looked up at it, pointed to the left side and said, "I yive in Calfornya." The Ex and I looked at each other like, "Did you teach him that...I didn't teach..." Gotta love preschool.
• While watching Curious George the other morning, George was playing with a flashlight and creating shadows on a cave wall. The Boy looked at me and said, "Sadows Mommy. I have sadow." Again, who the hell?
• He now insists on climbing onto his changing table (yes I still use one, my back needs it...) by himself and every single time tells me that he is climbing up the ladder to the fire truck.
• When I put him to sleep in a blanket sleeper, if it isn't one of those with the little snaps at the top, when I go in to check on him later, he has unzipped it and taken it off completely. He then announces, "I naked boy!"
• He was singing last night while playing with his cars and sang the entire alphabet song totally perfectly. Complete with the "Now I know my ABC's, next time won't you sing with me" part. Again, gotta love school.
• On that note he can count up to 27 perfectly. Huh.
• He expresses his emotions to me now. "I tired Mommy." "I angry!" Or my favorite, "You sad Mommy?" (No my boy, just pregnant...)
• He points at my belly and yells (at the top of his lungs) "Hi Baby!" and then he rips my shirt up and proceeds to blow a huge zerbert on my belly. This is how he and his little brother or sister are communicating at this point.
• He can take off all his clothes on his own when getting ready for the bath (and also at times when I would prefer he not do that).
• When he wakes up in the morning he yells, "Mommy! I wake! I wake! Open the door. Open the door," and if I am not speedy enough for his liking he yells, "Mommy hear me? Where ARE you Mommy?"
• He can turn on all the lights in the house and also unlock and open the front door himself.
• Yesterday when he realized he left his cars in Mommy's car he told me, "I do it. I get it." I said, "Boy, no, you can't go outside without shoes on. Mommy will go get it." He said, "Okay Mommy, I put on boots." He put on his fire fighter boots, went to the front door, unlocked it and went outside to retrieve his cars.
• When I try and grab him and give him kisses and hugs he says, "No Mommy. No kisses. I big." Sigh...

But there are a few signs that he is still my little boy in there somewhere...

• Every night before he goes to bed he says, "Sunshine Mommy," and I have to sing him You Are My Sunshine before I leave the room.
• Every morning he still climbs in my bed and drinks his pediasure from his cup and lays with me until I have to get up. On the weekends we will lay in bed together and watch Sprout for at least an hour before he wants to get down and play.
• He never leaves for school or wherever he is going without giving me hugs and kisses.
• He still needs me to kiss his boo boo's whenever he falls down or hurts himself before he can move on. As soon as that "magic" kiss is given, he is fine.
• He still sleeps with his Lambie and his binky (I know, I know...when he's three I am taking away the binky...) and his favorite blanket from when he was a newborn that barely covers his feet anymore.
• If he's not feeling well, he still only wants his Mommy and no one else will do.
• Every single night, after we sing sunshine I tell him to sleep tight and that I love him. He says, "Duv you too Mommy. Nigh Nigh" and my heart melts.

Mixed Emotions

Today I am SO proud to be an American...

...and so ashamed to be a Californian.

Halloween

Work is unbelievably busy right now and my son was gracious enough to share with me the cold he enjoyed last week. So blogging isn't really on the agenda today. BUT! Halloween cuteness! Must be shared! Also, I know that blogger uploads photos in the opposite order in which I click on them, but last night when I uploaded the pics to finish the post today, I was also tired. So here they are, in the wrong order! First, my little dude after finishing Trick or Treating. He can hardly believe that all of that stuff is his. He is so happy!
Second, earlier in the evening as we were cruising around the neighborhood, he kept stopping to check in on his loot bag and make sure the contents were still what they were supposed to be: CANDY! And lots of it! This was really the first year that he understood Halloween. He kept running from house to house (even the houses that the girls were too scared to go up to) and would yell, "TRICK OR TREAT!" And then picture me, behind him yelling, "Only take ONE, Boy, just ONE candy!" With which he would finish up with, "Tank you. Happy Hallween!" Then he would run down to me and say, "Nother house Mommy? Just one more?" Many, many more houses my boy. Until your little legs can no longer run in your boots...
And finally, here is a shot of him before the madness started (I told you all, backwards order of pics). This was actually Thursday morning. He got to wear his costume to speech therapy that day and to school. He was a happy fireman indeed!
And yeah, I couldn't get him to put the damn green thing down for the pictures. Just pretend it is some kind of Halloween monster, k? Now, back to those 4 different clients I have to manage in today before I get home to meet the child, make dinner and collapse into bed..