For my readers on facebook

After *very little* serious consideration, I decided it was time to try to grow my reader base and created a fan page on facebook for all of my blogs.

What, exactly, does that mean? Well, simply put, I'll be posting all things blog related on this page. New posts, blog ideas, more than likely a conversation or two with Nixon...these things and more will all now go on the fan page. It's convenient for me and hopefully equally as convenient for you.

 Here's the link for the new facebook fan page

Here's to a blogfully successful New Year!

Guess who got a Furby for Christmas?

Nixon did!

But even Santa knew better than to bring this into the house. This was from his grandfather (my dad). And while its not something Mac or I would've bought for Nixon, it is an appropriate grandparent gift. It's annoying, rude, noisy and at times obnoxious. But, Nixon loves this thing and I have to admit, I'm a little taken by it as well.
Here's a few videos of the Furby:

Here are some pictures of the *creepy* little shit!

"I am the face of evil"

Almost passes for cute, right?? Just wait...

Furby is totally plotting my demise!

It should totally be saying "I will eat your soul"

I was tickling it and it looked like this....fucking creepy!

So, if anything happens to me in my sleep....the Furby did it! This thing is evil under all the robotic cuteness! And the fuckin' thing snores! Louder than my husband...and there is no volume button. It has one volume: obnoxious!

Well, it's the truth, right?

Nixon: AH! I can't build this fucking wall. 
me: what?!
Nixon: I SAID I can't build this fucking wall!
me: Nixon, you are not allowed to say that word!
Nixon: Well, it's being fucking stupid!
*popped him in the mouth*
tear ensue...after I calm him down
me: Nixon, that word is very naughty, that's why I popped you in the mouth
Nixon: yeah
me: Did you keep saying it to get a reaction from me?
Nixon: You didn't hear me.
me: I heard you. You didn't get the reaction you hoped for did you?
Nixon: No. You hurt my mouth.
me: Nixon, I'm not going to say "don't say that word" because I know you're going to say it. Just don't say it in front of adults, okay?
Nixon: Really??
me: Yeah, I'm working on my "Mom of the Year" award.

finished it off with hugs, kisses and tickles. We're cool now!

The truth is, if I tell him NOT to say a word, it's a guarantee he's going to say it. I know he's going to say all the words I tell him not to. He's said "shit", "damn", "bitch" and now "fucking". The amazing thing is he always uses these words IN context! I'm not sure if I should be proud or ashamed. Well, since I am who I am and he's obviously my son, I'm a little proud. Now, when he drops an F-bomb in public for the first time, that may be a different story.  

How do I bring Santa's magic alive if I didn't have his magic as a child? *not a pity-me post*

   This year is the first time Nixon has really, really been into Santa. He gets it! And he is in awe of all things Santa and the magic aspect of Santa.
   
   I've been torn on how to keep the magic alive. I never believed in Santa as a child. My parents were very religious and my dad wanted Christmas to be about the religion aspect, not Santa. Santa stole Jesus' thunder, as far as my dad was concerned. I never really heard about Santa because I went to a parochial school with other good Christian kids. I don't recall hearing about Santa until my cousin was old enough to believe in Santa, and by that time I was old enough that I wouldn't have believed in Santa at all anyways. My parents really dodged a bullet there!

   This year, Nixon saw Santa and asked for his gift. He says, every time his C3PO moves to a new place in the house, "Mommy it's magic!" and I love him just a little more.

   My dilemma is, Nixon says he asked Santa for gifts for Mac and I. But he won't tell me what he asked for us. I tried telling him "Santa only brings gifts to children. Mommy and Daddy are grownups and off Santa's list now." Nixon said he cleared our gifts with Santa, because we're a small family. How can I argue with that? I really want him to see the magic of Santa, but I'm worried if we don't get the gifts he asked for for us, he'll be heartbroken. Mac seems to think he'll forget as soon as he sees his gift from Santa, and that I'm worrying over nothing. I'm thinking maybe just this one year, we let Santa bring us gifts.

   And while we're talking about Santa, parents stop letting the fat man take all the credit for EVERY gift! Nixon gets one, yes only one, gift from Santa! Not a whole pile under the tree! Can we all get on the same page, cause it confuses the kids and gives me a serious case of "Mommy Wars" when I'm think of facing this future conversation with Nixon. "But MOM....xxx says Santa brings him a whole bunch of gifts! I only get one, and I'm way better than he is." Seriously, xxx's mom, bring it down a bunch of notches.

   That's about it.

Blessed Yule, y'all! (Winter Solstice or first day of Winter for those not familiar with Pagan celebrations.)

Conversations with Nixon *Holiday Edition*

This is not an original post. I stole these from statuses I've posted on facebook. Nixon cracks me up on a daily basis and some are too good NOT to share. 

Perhaps the cutest of all was Nixon telling me today he asked Santa for gifts for Mac and I. I told him Santa only brought gifts for little boys and girls and Nixon says to me, "But mommy, we only have 3 people in the house. Santa said it was okay." I could not love him more if I tried. I just wish I knew what he asked Santa for, for Mac and I. I want him to believe in Santa's magic and if that means buying gifts for Mac and I from Santa, then dammit  it's happening!

(today)
Nixon: Mommy is the Christmas ready?
me: nope, not a few more days
Nixon: *an hour later* Is it ready now?
me: No Nixon, I showed you on the calendar Christmas is still a few days away.
Nixon: mommy, Christmas IS ready now! I see it! *I had put the gifts from my grandmother under the tree. This is why he says he sees Christmas*
me: Well, I say it's not and I know more than you do. 
Nixon: Mommy, you go in time out until you behave and be nice to me!
me: I don't see that happening either.
Nixon: Crap on a stick!

(Monday)
Nixon, playing with one of my headbands, says to me "Mommy, you can't see my eyes "

Nixon, while watching football highlights, all of a sudden says: "the Jets are garbage!"
Mac and I have no idea where he got this from, but I guess he's not a Jets fan, eh?

(Monday)
Anyone want my kid?? He's feeling better and acting an ass again. 
On second thought....I'm gonna keep him. Ass or not, he's the only kid I've got. 
I love you, Nixon. But if you want to see dinner tonight, bring the ass'ness down a notch or 5, okay??
Thanks,
Mommy

(Dec 15th)
Well, the neighborhood now knows Nixon's name.
Took the trash out, the ONE time I don't grab my keys, he locks me out! I bang on the door and tell him to open the door. Once. Second time I use my "angry mom voice" and demand he opens the door "NIXON OPEN THIS DOOR NOW!". I hear my voice echo around the neighborhood and 4 people open their doors. 
Nixon did too. 
Not cool, kid. Not cool.

(Dec 14th/15th)
*this was in the midst of Nixon fighting the flu and immediately following the Conn elementary school shooting.*
Nixon woke up at 130am after an accident. I brought him into bed with me (because I needed him to be with me and because he wanted to be near me). He saw me with tears in my eyes
Nixon: Mommy where's your smile?
me: My smile is hiding. Mommy's sad for some families today.
Nixon: oh
me: Nixon, do you know how much I love you?
Nixon: A lot?
me: So much more than a lot. Do you know you are the best thing to ever happen to my life?
Nixon: Yeah *smiles*
me: Nixon, if you were ever taken from me, I don't know how I'd survive. Without you my life would be empty. Do you know what empty means?
Nixon: No more m&ms?
me: haha Yes Nixon empty means there are no more m&ms.
Nixon: That's not right! You can go buy me more m&ms.
me: I could, but I can never buy another you. You are mine and there's only one of you.
Nixon: Shhhhh, mommy, it's time to close you eyes. I want snuggles.
I listened to him. I stopped talking and hugged him

(Dec 14)
In other news: Nixon informed me today, that BeBe is in fact a girl. Not a boy as we've previously referred to her as. Not sure when the change occurred, but we all love BeBe just the way she is

(Dec 11)
*I call Nixon "baby" a lot. He decided I needed a lesson on why he's not a baby anymore*
Nixon just told me "that means math. Math means I'm not a baby".
I'm thinking this is his way of telling me 4 isn't a baby anymore. I got this lecture after I called him "baby". 
Now I need a Nixonese to English logic translator.

(Dec 5)
*While I was at F's helping her with T again*
Nixon (to me this morning): I not going anywhere unless I am going to school!
me: Nixon you can't go to school yet because we have to find one for you. 
Nixon: I know! I go to T's school with her. 
me: Nixon, you can't go to T's school.
Nixon: Then I not going anywhere, forever or ever or ever!
Seriously?!?!

I am not a perfect mom, I am not a perfect mom, I AM NOT A PERFECT MOM!

   That was my mantra yesterday. I was ready to scream it from the rooftops just so everyone who took their time to stare and shake their heads at Nixon and I, realized I already knew what they were all thinking. "She is not a perfect mom".

    Hell no, I'm not perfect! You know what makes me so imperfect? I'm human. And I'm raising a 4-year old. Who, apparently, has moments to show his ass, in public, at the worse possible moments! I made a lot of mistakes yesterday, during an outing to Target, so here's a list of them. Maybe other moms can learn from my mistakes...

1- I took a child to Target during the holiday season rush. 
No one in their right mind goes to the store in the weeks before Christmas, during lunchtime, with a child. NO ONE! But I did. And we were good, at first. I had told Nixon he would not be getting a toy and to not even ask. He even repeated what I'd told him and retold me as we walked into the store "I am not getting a toy today. I am not even going to ask, Mommy."

2- I took a sickly child to the store.
Nixon has been fighting the flu since last Friday. He's been up and down with vomiting and shitting the bed. He was fine yesterday morning so I thought to myself "A short trip to the store will be good for him. Fresh air and a little time out of this germ-infested house is a good idea."....it was not! Even if he was acting better, it'd been less than 24 hours since his last symptom had appeared or disappeared, however you want to look at it.

3- I tried doing too much, in an effort to make MY life easier.
This one is the biggie. Please learn from my mistakes. I went to Target to get a few things and once I had them all, I for some stupidass reason, thought "well, I'm hear lets finish all the shopping" before realizing to complete my shopping I'd have to go to.....THE TOY SECTION. (parents, I'm sure you can see where this is going, and you know it's not going to go well)

4- The toy section bring out the devil in ALL kids!
Nixon was awesome, even amazing, until we walked by....Angry Birds. GODDAMNED mother-fucking Angry Birds! As soon as he saw that, my kid lost his ever-loving mind! He actually stood in place and SCREAMED! Not yelled, screamed! I pulled him into a "quiet" (re not super crowded) aisle and spoke, firmly, in his ear. I told him we're not there for him, and he was already told no toys. We were looking for a gift for his cousin and I need him to help me pick it out. He took a couple deep breaths and recovered. WHEW! Not the end.....

5- When a child has more than one meltdown, it's time to leave the basket and get them home.
I did not do this. I made the threat, dropped the basket and walked away, but I fell for his pleas of "Please Mommy I be good. Tessa needs her present!" and picked it up. I did go right to the registers. And had to stand in line. Thinking a snack might entice him to behave I offered to buy him a small one. Again, he was fine. Until the line stopped moving and he realized there was nothing in the basket for him....He screamed a third time "I WANT ANGRY BIRDS NOW!!".

6- If you are standing in line, closely, and you see a mother pickup her tantrum-throwing child, MOVE out of her way!
After his Angry Birds outburst, I hulled his ass up and hoisted him onto my hip. The woman standing behind me, obnoxiously close I might add, didn't move when I said "I'm sorry, excuse me". Instead she forced me to squeeze past her, and got kicked by Nixon on the way. I did apologize that the kick, but seriously, bitch had it coming. If she'd moved 2 feet and let us out, she would not have gotten kicked and I would not have had to squeeze past. This was not a large woman, this was a twig-of-a-girl just being a gawker at my child's clear demonic possession who was too busy watching that to move! Yes, I know when Nixon is in full-on exorcism mode he gets scary, trust me I know, but seriously, just move when you see a mom struggling with her child and trying to remove him from the situation.
And, for the record, staring at me while I carry my screeching child out of the store, really isn't doing anything but pissing me off. I was not speaking in a tone anyone nearby could hear, I was clearly taking him OUT of the store and I was doing it as damned fast as I could move (while carrying a 35lb child who was thrashing in my arms and screaming). Trust me, I'm already wearing my "Asshole Mom" badge securely fastened on my "Parenting Failure" sash. Your dirty looks have little affect on my actions, other than once again, reassure me that I am a bad mom and I should never go out in public again.

7- When you finally get home, throw your tantrum AFTER putting your child in their room.
And throw a tantrum I did. Slammed doors, cussed up a fucking storm and told Mac what a shitty mom I was! I knew this entire episode was MY fault! I know it could have all been avoided, if I hadn't tried to do so much.
I took about half an hour to calm down after my rage-tantrum. Mac and I went up to Nixon's room and I held him, hugged him, kissed him and.....apologized. We hugged and kissed. He said he was sorry and told me we needed to go back because "you didn't get Tessa's gift mommy. You left it at the store."

    The moral of the story is: I fucked up and it led to Nixon losing his mind! We're better now, and I went back later last night, without Nixon, and did my shopping.

and then I had my first heart attack!

   If you're friends with me on facebook, you may have already seen today's update:

What a long rough night Nixon and I had.....

..poor guy had diarrhea throughout the night, almost every hour I was getting up to clean him.

He's snuggled in our bed with Mac right now. I had to run to Target and buy more sheets for his bed, the two we had didn't make it through the night. Into the washer they went....

   What I couldn't put on there, was the nightmare that my day started with. Nixon has been battling some kind of stomach bug since Friday. I've done no less than 6 loads of laundry because of this bug. Friday morning Nixon slept until after 1130am! Yesterday he seemed back to his old self and was awake around 630am (but he did fall asleep on the sofa at 730pm Friday night). 

   This morning, I had to clean and help Nixon change into clean clothes at least 4 times during the night and I was exhausted. Almost every hour Nixon would be calling for me and I'd bolt up from my sleep and rush to him! I changed his sheets, made multiple trips up and down stairs for clothes or to put a load in the washer. 

    I wasn't too worried when I saw the clock read 1130am and Nixon wasn't awake. I figured he was sleeping to beat this bug. I did get up and start my day. 

I checked his bed, no Nixon.

I checked the floor of his room, no Nixon.

I checked the spare room, no Nixon. 

I went back into my bedroom and looked in there. The floor, the bed...no Nixon.

I finally woke Mac up and said the words no mother wants to say "I can't find Nixon!"

   While he stumbled out of bed I ran downstairs, feeling a panic bubbling up inside of me.  Nixon wasn't on the sofa, or the padded bench I made just for him. I didn't see him in the kitchen. 

   Finally I called out for him, "Nixon!", "Nixon, baby, where are you?".
   He comes wobbling from the area in front of the back door. "Mommy? I had an accident. I pooped my pants."
I have never been more relieved to hear him say those words! I almost always, ALWAYS, hear him go downstairs in the morning. He always comes into the bedroom to tell me he's awake. I'm pretty sure he was so tired from last night, he didn't know he was downstairs. It's frightening to think he might have fallen down the stairs. 

   I gave Nixon a bath, while Mac went and tried to clean his bed. After the bath I put him in fresh clothes and in our bed with Mac. I left to go to Target, for sheets and other necessities. 

   When I came home, both of my boys were sleeping in our bed. Mac had his arm draped across Nixon's back. Amber was sleeping at Nixon's feet. And my heart? My heart was overwhelmed with love and contentment when I saw them all together. 

Making sense of tragedy and learning from it

This photo is going around facebook.

It's of one teacher, who lost her life yesterday. She lied to the gunman (I'm intentionally not naming him, he deserves no acknowledgement of a personal manner) about where her students were. She saved their lives and lost her own. 
Her name is Victoria Soto and she is a hero!
And she was not alone in her act of heroism.

As I read the first story about Victoria Soto's act of heroism, I wanted to show Nixon a true hero. To him, in his 4-year old mind, heroes look like Iron Man, Captain America and Black Widow. They wear costumes, have cartoons and action figures of their likeness he can play with. 
Victoria Soto wore no costume, didn't star in a cartoon and will never have an action figure made of her. But she is a bigger hero than any imaginary character will ever be. 

I'm stealing my post from facebook...
 Just tried telling my 4-year old that this is what a hero looks like. Iron Man and Captain America may be what he thinks of when he hears "hero", but this woman IS a hero! I needed him to hear me say that to him.

Nixon may not have understood, but I did. He saw the tears in my eyes as I told him about her sacrifice. "This lady saved kids from a very, very bad man. And that bad man hurt her very badly, but those kids went home to their mommies and daddies because of her." Nixon said to me "She's a hero, like Black Widow? Like you, mommy?" (I was Black Widow for Halloween so he always tells me I'm Black Widow). My reply was simple "No, baby. Black Widow and mommy wish they were as brave as this lady was. She's a hero. Black Widow is imaginary, she's made up. But this beautiful lady is a real hero." Nixon said to me "Mommy, she's pretty like you." 
All I could do was hold him, stroke his head and say "She's beautiful, baby. She's very beautiful. Mommy will never be as pretty as this woman is."

Adults can barely make sense of this crime, how do you explain it to children? How do I tell my son I'm crying because my very soul aches for people I've never known and will never meet? Most of all, how do I reassure my son that everything is fine when it feels like there's no place safe enough for him anymore?

A moment of somberness

   It's a sad day, when less than 2 weeks before christmas families now have to plan funerals for their children instead of looking forward to their joy on christmas morning. The toys will go unopened, the stockings unfilled and the parents lives forever shattered by one (or two) evil person's actions.

   There is nothing that anyone can say to make this pain any less for those affected. No words of condolence  no amount of flowers laid, no rallying angry cries from the masses. Nothing can replace what was stolen from these families today. Today Connecticut was ground zero for another senseless act of violence and the victims were children. Real children. Little people who had only just begun to live their lives, now gone forever leaving behind a country (a civilized world) in disbelief and families who will never look forward to another December as long as they live. To them, December will always be a painful and heartbreaking month not one filled by a jolly fat man and good cheer. 

   Everyone learning the details of this horrific event is holding their children tighter, loving their families a little more and questioning how and why this happened in the first place. 

    Me? I'm numb. Numb from the realization that there really is no safe place for my child. The best thing I can do is not guide him to a life of fear, but instead help prepare him for a life of uncertainty and hope, just hope, it's enough to see him home to me everyday he's gone from my care. The world just became a little more scarier as a parent, but I refuse to let fear keep me and my family down!

   I'm not going to teach Nixon that all guns are bad. 
   I'm not going to raise him to think everyone with a gun is a bad person. His own father carries one at work, as do the police officers that I expect my son to turn to in case of trouble. I need him to trust that police officers are the good guys and they are there for him and his safety. (I realize this is not always the truth, but he needs to believe there are good people in the world)
   I am going to teach him what to do, in a worst of the worse case scenarios, if he hears gunfire. I'm going to teach him to stay as close to the ground as possible and take cover. 
   I am going to empower him with knowledge on how to stay safe in this crazy world his father and I brought him into. 
   I am going to love him like it's my last day with him. I'm going to save the harsh words and replace them with loving words. I'm going to smother him with hugs and kisses every chance I get. And I am going to tell him, every single day, that he is loved! Because I never want him to think he's not. I never want him to think he was bad and that's why something awful happened. 

    Evil people and evil deeds are a part of life. It's not necessarily a reflection on the people affect by said evil. 

   Let's stop focusing on the bad and evil things in the world and focus on the beautiful and loving things. Focus on your child's smile because you never know when it'll be stolen away. 

    Take a moment today and try to empower your kids somehow. Tell them what their good at, how much they mean to you or how amazing your life is all because of them! Stop breaking down kids. Broken kids are the kids who grow up to be broken and damaged adults. I should know, I am a broken and damaged adult. But my son, my life, helped me see that being damaged isn't a lifelong sentence. I can change and I have changed. I am not repeating my parents mistakes. Not every act of violence is the result of bad parenting, but who wants to take the chance that the one day you stopped saying "I love you" to your son or daughter, was the day they started hating the value of their own lives? Not me. 

  Be strong parents. Be brave, for your children. Be kind. Be loving. Most of all, be there for your children. Some people are just evil, I get that. But do what you can for society and raise a kind, caring, compassionate child into a strong, brave and resilient adult. Give the world the people it deserves, not the sociopaths it's got now. 

Look through these photos  and see what evil has done to this community. Cry, rage, question things but don't forget. Learn from today, and every senseless act of evil in the world. Don't blame all gun owners. Taking guns away from law abiding people won't prevent these things from happening. Demand schools do more to protect your child won't do anything to stop the crazies. Prepare your child yourself for the unknown and have faith that you've done your very best to ensure they are protected. 

   Cliche as it is: knowledge is power. 

A quick "Thank you"

   I have a slight addiction. I check my blog stats daily. Sometimes multiple times a day.
So imagine my delight when I saw that today's total blog views reached over 7000!! That's awesome for less than 200 posts, in my own humble opinion.

   So a deep, heartfelt "Thank you" to each and every person who has ever read my blog. I don't care if you love me, hate me, fear me, pity me or envy me...you took the time to read my blog and that's all that matters to me.

   Thank you! I'll keep blogging as long as you all keep reading!

Countries that I have readers in:

United States	58
Russia	17
Canada	5
Germany	5
Italy	3
Belarus	2
Sweden	2
China	1
Fiji	1
India	1

How awesome in that?!?!? I have multiple views from Russia, more than Canada. And Fiji?!?!? I have someone who found my blog that is in Fiji.....thank you! (These are just the stats for this week!) Sweden makes an appearance. But it looks like my stalkers from Japan have stopped following me. Or they got the ip blocker finally figured out! ha!

He may be an ass....but that ass is my kid!

  

this is the squeaker toy face

Three was a hard age. I think most parents agree that of the first few years, three is one of the hardest. The tantrums alone make you want to drink (or drug your child....some days it's a real struggle to decide which of those options is the winning one). Then there's the talking back, the never-ending "NO!" coming out of your child's mouth and the absolute power struggle over everything! I love Nixon to death, but I almost loved him to death! He drove me batty more than once (a day) and there were days that I seriously questioned myself as a mom. Surely, if I was doing the very best I could as a mom, he wouldn't be acting like such an ass! Yes, there I said it. My kid was a total ass sometimes! I still loved him, but gods alive he can be a real ass!
   However, I remind myself of a couple things: 
1) this is a mostly normal phase in every child's life, and 
2) I'll never have to go through it again. So all I have to do is survive this phase, once, with Nixon and it'll all be behind us. 

   But for a while it seemed it was never going to end. The tantrums in public were still a common occurrence no matter how many times I left a store with him throwing a tantrum. The talking back was mind-numbingly constant. And he'd talk back about everything! 
me: Nixon, what do you want for lunch?
Nixon: NOTHING! I am never going to eat...forever! 
me: Okay.
Nixon: I said I want peanut butter and jelly for lunch!
^^ true story!
   Yesterday, that all changed. I'm seriously concerned that an alien abducted my child and replaced him with a marvelous, well-behaved clone. (thank you, aliens!) 

   Nixon and I had a mommy and me date, of sorts. Mac is working nights, so I do my best to get Nixon out of the house and give Mac a couple peaceful hours of sleep. Santa was the perfect excuse to get Nixon out of the house yesterday. He hasn't seen Santa this year and it's the first year Nixon is super excited about Santa.

   We left early to beat any possible crowds.

   We arrived and found 3 families ahead of us, all with much younger kids. Nixon was not enjoying the squeaker toy the photographer was using to get the little ones attention. In fact, he hated it. (He's still sensitive to some sounds.)

    Finally, it was Nixon's turn with Santa! My goodness, Nixon just lit up and stared at Santa. He was in total awe of the man! He quickly sat on his lap and took a few photos. The photographer commented on how Nixon's smile was "too squinty". Not wanting to ruin the moment, I ignored the comment, but the bitch in me wanted to say "He's got Asian blood in him, he can't help but be squinty!" I totally said it in my mind!
   After Santa we grabbed a cookie. Mall cookies are the best, right?!?! Nixon sat quietly and ate his cookie. I think he was Santa-awed, but whatever it was I'll take it. I wasn't losing my mind and he wasn't acting an ass.     The best part of the day happened while we were in Target. I was picking up some more stocking stuffers and getting things for the cats (Arwen hates me, I bought a Santa hat with beard attached for cats and made her wear it!) 
   Nixon was on point with his "excuse me" when we were walking down a crowded area and his "please" and "thank you". I got 2 compliments on his manners. One was from an older woman who heard Nixon say "excuse me" as we walked by her. "Mom, you should be proud. I don't hear grown adults using excuse me like your son just did." The second was the cashier who said to Nixon "You have some wonderful manners, young man."! (Nixon said "please" and "may I have" when he asked for the trucks I'd bought for him)

    I could not have loved my son more at that point, if I tried! I was so proud of him AND it made me realize I'm doing a good job as his mom. 

    Am I a perfect mom? Hell no! I cuss too much, use too much sarcasm around him and I don't always keep my cool when he's acting an ass. But I'm doing somethings right because my little man uses manners and I'm not even having to prompt him to do it these days. 

    Am I a perfect mom? NO. But don't tell Nixon that. He think I'm the best mom ever. And I get hugs, kisses and "I love you, mom" all day long! Even if I'm not the most perfect mom, I'm the best mom he has and he's not screwed up yet. 

   So, yes, my kid can be an ass. But you know what? I think it's normal to be slightly ass-tastic when you're being raised by a less than perfect mom. But together, we make a pretty awesome team!

"too squinty"?? Too cute, if you ask me!

Arwen, in her Santa hat and beard.

Yep, we're a family of geeks.

   Some holiday ideas are great. Cookies for Santa? Awesome. Some kind of suckass. Elf on the shelf? This has mommy wars written all over it.
    Never heard of Elf on the Shelf? Count yourself so lucky! Please take a gander one of my blogger-heroes, the Bloggess, and her take on this incredibly insane but somehow trendy traditions.

    Since Nixon is hitting the age where he's learning to enjoy holidays and the fun things that come along with it, I thought it'd be fun to get in on the tattle-telling elf action. But I wanted to do it in a geeky-family friendly way. Why do an elf, which anyone can do, when you can do something awesome that your kid will get really excited about?? Well, if you're me (who, lets be honest, is really awesome) you take your kid to Target and hit up the holiday section. We found the perfect little guy to report to Santa!

    

    Meet our R2D2 on a shelf! 

    So far he's working fine. Nixon's been in Time Out 4 times today, and R2 and I had a quick discussion about Nixon's behavior.  

So it's December....how the flying crap did that happen?!?!

    The topic of the moment, at least in our house, is Santa. When do we take Nixon to see him? What is Santa bringing Nixon? Who's paying for the pictures with Santa? All the really important burning Santa-related questions. But no conversation would be complete without Mac over-thinking things and making things a bigger issue than they have to be.

   I'll explain.

  Nixon will make his list for Santa, and while there's no limit to what he can ask Santa for, Santa will only bring one gift for Nixon. The gift has already been picked out (will most likely be purchased next week) and might not even be on Nixon's list, but "Santa" knows Nixon will love it!
  Now the over-thinking. We've agreed Santa will only give one or two gifts to Nixon. Mac is worried that Nixon will get hurt and made fun of when he goes to school and learns from other kids that their Santa brought them a whole bunch of gifts! Nixon's not even in school yet, and yes while I'd like to protect him from being made fun of and bullies, we can't run our family to avoid that. The best we can do is make sure Nixon is comfortable at home and confident in himself. Mac and I were both bullied as kids, and it really sucked... a lot, but there is absolutely nothing we can do to prevent it from happening to Nixon that will make him a strong person. Nixon is pretty damned comfortable being who he is, at 4-years old, and if we're really lucky as parents he'll keep that confidence throughout life. And if not, he'll have to learn how to be an individual and not follow the crowd the hard way. Life's not easy.

    Nixon will see Santa at the local Mall. It's not going to be as cheap as the last 3 years, because it's not going to be by donation only. But the mall Santa looks like someone's grandpa and we can go on one of Mac's days off during the week and avoid the wicked weekend lines. Nixon's even excited about seeing Santa this year!

   And one more, super local exciting thing is the Jolly Express Cruise. A 45-minute cruise on a small vessel, adorned with antlers, red nose and playing carols! With Santa at the helm! I know Mac might not truly be into this, but Nixon will go ape-shit over it and I'll be honest, I'm a little ape-shit about it too! Mac missed out on hayrides and the pumpkin patch with us, so I think this will be extra special for the 3 of us.

   Really....how on earth did December just sneak up on us??

Birth is just the beginning....

  For women, when giving birth in most cases, we lose all sense of modesty. I know when Nixon was in the process of making his debut, I found myself on all fours ass in the air with a room full of interns, nurses and a doctor who was elbow deep in my cervix for all to see for the safety of my child. And I could have given a flying frick! My sole concern was that Nixon was safe.

  That was just the beginning to life as a mom with privacy issues. I can't shower with Nixon awake and not have him come check in on me, asking if I'm "getting all pruney and making all the germs go away". I can't take longer than 5 seconds in the bathroom with a knock on the door and hearing him call out "Mommy, are you in there?". I've gotten used to it, because lets face it, if he's checking on me, he's not getting into trouble somewhere else in the house.

   But it's not just Nixon. The cats get in on the action too!

   And, as of yesterday, BeBe (Nixon's beloved teddy bear) as well. BeBe, apparently, can only "poo-poo" when I do. So Nixon will bring him into the bathroom and put him on the sink countertop  next to me.
   Today it played out like this:
*knock, knock*
Nixon: Mommy, are you in there?
me: Yes, Nixon, I'm in here, I just told you I was going to the bathroom.
Nixon: Oh. BeBe has to go poo-poo and he needs to be near you.
me: Nixon, you can't be serious. BeBe does not need to be near me to poo-poo.
Nixon: *opens the door* Uh-huh, mommy! He really does! (puts BeBe on the counter next to me) See? Now, leave him alone while he poo-poos.
me: *to BeBe* You know I'm going to blog about this ridiculous invasion of my privacy, right?
The worse part?!?! Before Nixon would take BeBe out of the bathroom, he had to see me wipe BeBe's butt! I had to wipe a stuffed bear's ass!!

Meanwhile, Mac can grab his Kindle or a magazine and go to the bathroom without being disturbed. He seems to think I can just tell Nixon to leave me alone while I'm in there and it'll magically happen. Moms, anyone wanna help me enlighten him on why this will NEVER happen??

Happy December :)

and then my heart stopped

It almost seems ironic that this would happen tonight after the conversation Mac and I had in the car this evening. We were talking about the NYC nanny murder story and the recent not guilty plea. Which led to our conversation about stupid shit people say at the worst times.

Mac: You know, I'm really tired of hearing people saying this god has a plan bull. Is that really comforting to anyone?
me: Beats me. What kind of god plans for a mother to have 2 children in her life for 5 and 2 years, only to walk into her home and see the end of their murders? Like seriously, that's a merciful being?
Mac: Yeah, well if we're ever in those shoes I'd better never hear those words come out of anyone's mouth towards me.
me: Nah, you know if it happens to us we'll have it even worse. I mean, at least this family had one child spared. We'll hear the "I bet you're really regretting that vasectomy now" at the funeral.
Mac: NO the hell I won't! I'll have who ever says that escorted out and we'll never see them again!
me: Not before I can say "I bet you're regretting those words" as I stab them in the throat. I'm going to wear steel toed boots to any funeral like that. And kick any asshole that says stupid shit. Sorry, Nixon, I shouldn't be cussing right now.
(When we got home I did give Nixon extra hugs and kisses and tell him we got upset thinking of him being taken from him because he is irreplaceable to us. He really is our one and only)


Which brings me to 20 minutes ago:

I spent some time in tonight in the spare bedroom working on my sewing machine. Nixon came in twice, asking for hugs and kisses (awww....I know, right??) When I was done I went to check on him.
His bed was empty.
I checked the bed in the spare room, which I had just left, thinking maybe I just hadn't noticed him.  But he wasn't there either.
I checked his room again. His bed was empty.
There was no Nixon-shaped limp on the floor.
Even the bathroom was empty.
Just as I was about to call to Mac, who was downstairs, in a panic I peeked in our bedroom. And there passed out, splayed all over the bed like he owned it, sleeping like an angel, was my baby boy.
I called Mac up and let him go room to room before showing him where Nixon was, but his panic wasn't nearly as bad as mine was.

For a one-millionth of a moment in time, I thought something had happened to him and my world was slowly spinning out of control.

You've been my best 4 years

I'm paraphrasing Taylor Swift, but the gust is: My baby boy turned 4 yesterday!

The in-laws are visiting, having arrived yesterday to celebrate Nixon's birthday (his first birthday in the states....ever!, so I get it's kind of a big deal) and are staying through Thanksgiving with us. Small yay.
I'm kind of a control freak....slightly, maybe a little....okay, a lot. SO, it's very hard for me to stand back and not say things without (a) coming off as rude or (b) being a complete bitch. Honestly, there's no happy medium, trust me I've tried for years to try to find one. So I usually do my own thing and just let things happen and stew in silence. It pretty much, almost totally (did not) work the last visit. But this time, I realized I'm still a little bat shit crazy and started my meds again. Problem is....they're really fucking up my appetite, and that means I have a mother-in-law who is watching (and apparently keeping track) of everything I do and don't eat!
Take today: we left early this morning to buy Nixon's new bed. I grabbed a banana before we left. We got home and I went to Nixon's bedroom and put the bed together (thank you Ikea for making affordable but also very mind numbingly annoying furniture instruction sheet) when I came downstairs to grab a trash bag, she tells me "You should sit down. You need to eat, you only eat banana all day. That not enough. (turns to my brother-in-law) Do you think that is enough for her to eat?" See, the thing is, the last time I was on the meds, she tried telling me I needed to hire help because I might be a danger to Nixon!! So, excuse me for not telling her why I'm not eating right now.
The meds tend to alter the taste of food. Yesterday, my coffee tasted like mud. MY COFFEE!!!!!! It's only temporary, while I'm adjusting to them again. but it's a hell of a thing to be dealing with during the best eats time of the year!

As I mentioned, Ikea helped finally furnish Nixon a twin bed:

That is his room, less than 5 minutes after I was done getting everything where I wanted it. He is currently asleep, napping in his new bed. 

On his bed is a brand new magician bunny I bought for him, because every kid should have a magic bunny, right? Nixon saw him and immediately named him "Bunny, Bunny" and just before his nap he told me to say "welcome bunny bunny" which I assume is welcome bunny bunny to the family. 

For those wondering, I did not cry on Nixon's birthday. I did put his bed together myself. and I did make him a pink cake, at his request for his Avengers theme!