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.