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!