I'm so lucky Nixon is mine....he's so sweet, loving, silly and mine! This is a short blog of mommy drivel, feel free to ignore it if you want.

    I'm about to be an aunt for the 4th time (by my sister anyhow, many more if you count the in-laws and the better-than-blood nieces and nephews) tomorrow morning. My sister is having a little boy some time tomorrow. She was due last week, but like all her other babies, this one too needs to be evicted.
     She's being by medical terminology induced. I prefer she's giving eviction notice to her uterus' latest tenant, aka Uterus Eviction Day! It just sounds like more fun than induction or induced.

    I was telling Nixon he was getting a new cousin tomorrow and he got excited. He asked me if this "was the baby in Aunt Snotface's tummy?", which I said yes. Then I told him we were going to see him next month. This little sweetheart of a boy, that I evicted from my uterus, said to me "I can't wait! I want to put him down for a nap, before the moon is in the sky, because that's when all babies are safe." His newest cousin is not even here and Nixon wants to keep him safe. I might be raising the lovingest boy ever!
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On an unrelated note:
Last week Nixon and I watched a bunny in our backyard for over 15 minutes. I took photos of it, and Nixon sat quietly in a chair watching it:

 

"Please stop saying BOMB in public"....why the hell do I have to repeatedly tell this to my 4-year old?!?!

   For some reason Nixon has suddenly become obsessed with "throwing bombs" and running. Not real bombs, mind you. But he wants to tell me "Mom, I just threw a bomb at you, you blew up." I know pretend play is just that, pretend, but there are so many uptight assholes in the world today that might overhear that and actually think my child has a bomb and do something drastic.

   It's for that reason alone, I've started to tell Nixon, when he says anything about bombs, grenades or guns, in public "Nixon, it's okay to play pretend at home, but when we're out of the house you can't talk about those things. Some people won't know it's just pretend and they'll get very nervous and upset."

   I'm trying to curb this new verbal habit of his before he starts preschool in the fall (fingers crossed that he gets a spot). I want him to thrive at school and I'm not totally sure what the school's policy is regarding things like gun-play, to be honest, I'd prefer it to be a non-issue. As in something I never have to worry about because Nixon does not have issues with it outside of the home. Mac has stopped playing video games while Nixon is awake, we're more vigilant about the shows watches because of his behaviors. He wasn't becoming violent, more he was acting desensitized to real-life violence finding it funny....that was a big red flag for me and I was straight up "HELL NO" when that happened.
  I was watching the news, and there was a segment about a violent break-in caught on a nanny cam. The robber brutally beat the home owner and it was caught by the newly installed nanny cam. Nixon happened to come into the living room (he was in the kitchen, eating dinner) and saw the video, he started laughing. I was crying because I was so upset that I couldn't get him to understand it was a real crime, a real person being hurt and not a made-up funny TV thing. He kept telling me "And he kicked her in the face HAHA"
    He eventually noticed I was sitting on the sofa, quietly crying. He asked me what was wrong and I told him that the lady on TV was badly hurt by a bad man. The police were trying to find the man that hurt her, which is why the video was being shown on TV. I told him, honestly, it hurt my heart that he was laughing and I was scared that he thought hurting people was funny. I then told him that lady was a mommy, like me, and her baby was in the room watching her get hurt.
    He said "Mommy, that's sad. Did the man hurt the baby too?" Thankfully, I could tell him the truth, no the baby was not hurt.
    Nixon said "Mommy, don't cry. The naughties (police in Nixonese) will find him and he'll go away." I hope it sunk in, I don't want him thinking hurting people is funny.

   Ugg....who knew this was the age I'd have to worry about this shit with him?!?!

Some things are better left unsaid....other things should just never be thought of. Then there's conversations like this that make you wonder how I manage to raise a kid as wonderful and awesome as Nixon in the first place!

   All my moms out there, you can relate to this, I'm sure. It's easier to just pee with the door open then try to close the door and go. It really does save time, because you can actually go undisturbed most of the time. But as soon as that door closes it's like a giant neon sign lights up with an alarm that only small children and pets can hear that says "Quick, she's in the bathroom, you must go and bother her RIGHT NOW!" over and over and over again, until you open the door at which point the sign and said alarm magically disappear.
    I'm sure my lack of needing privacy to pee also comes from spending months sharing a bathroom with over 20 girls in Army, and having friends like F who would be naked all the time if she could be. It's peeing, we all do it.

    Which brings me to this morning's fresh-out-of-bed conversation with Nixon.
Nixon: *looking at me from the waist down, very intently* Where's your peenie, Mommy?
me: *chuckling* Honey, I don't have a peenie because I'm a girl. I have a vagina. Only boys have peenies
Nixon: I have a peenie. Daddy has a peenie too.
me: Yep, because you both are boys. I'm a girl, so no peenie for me. Trust me, I'm a little disappointed by that too.
Nixon: Where did your peenie go?
me: I never had one.
Nixon: Never?!?
me: Nope, I've always had a vagina. I've always had to pee sitting down.
Nixon: I did too. But then I learneded to pee standing up like big boys. Like Daddy does. Because I'm growing up and I'm a boy!
me: Yep, you sure are.
Nixon: Can you buy a peenie?
me: Well, kind of...but I still don't think I could pee from it.
Nixon: I like peeing standing up. Being a boy is awesome!
me: Just rub that in. And don't thank me, thank Daddy. I only have girls in me.
Nixon: Huh?


   We ended the talk there, because I hadn't had my coffee yet and I tend to get cranky and say massively inappropriate things without coffee. Like almost explaining to a 4-year old strap-ons.
    In other, unrelated news: I'm thinking of giving Nixon a My Little Pony temporary tattoo sleeve. I think it'd be awesome, and he's totally digging the idea!

7 year itch?? Nah, not in this house!

    Ever have those future "what-if" conversations with your husband/wife or significant other? Occasionally, mac and I have them and they are really random. The most recent one was last week as we were celebrating the 7 year anniversary of our first date.

   Someone had asked if I was getting "itchy" now that it was 7 years. (You know that old adage of the 7 year itch?) Mac and I were talking about it and how we felt like we really were too perfectly matched to find anyone else who would put up with us, like each other does.
   I said "Well, if this ever falls apart I'm not dating. Do you know how impossible it'd be to find a guy who is childless NOW at my age?!" I was totally serious too. While I adore Nixon, I'm not looking for, nor do I ever picture myself with a blended family. I'm too selfish to share myself, my partner and my son with someone else's family which is what a blended family is all about. I admire women who step-up and do the step-mom/step-family thing. It's never easy from what I've witnessed.
 
   As for me? Itch or not. I'm willing to fight and work for what I've got right now. Mac and I haven't hit bumps we can't smooth out over time and I'm not tired of his face yet. I'll keep him. Besides, look at the adorable child we made together. Who wouldn't want to stay with the man who helped create that/him with me?!?

   Our family is odd an unconventional for sure. We have bad days and good days. But when I have my bad days and it feels like my world is crumbling around me, Mac is my rock. He's the person I turn too when I need support or a laugh. I can't imagine ever wanting to let go of the security I feel when he holds me.

   So, 7 year itch be damned! We're 7 years since our first date and still going strong!