Back by Popular Demand

Hello there blogosphere! Sorry I've been gone for such a long time. I know you've missed me.

I think we've just really hunkered down in life with the two year old and stuff in general that I haven't had much time to update this blog. I'm not sure what to write anymore or what the purpose of this site should be. Initially I wanted to chronicle my pregnancy and life with a new baby. It's sortof morphed into something else at times but mostly I've stayed on track. I guess I need to figure out if I want to keep the blog or toss it. What do you think world?

Back to Basics: What's going on with the boy?
Diapers are getting crazy expensive. It's really kind of ridiculous when you think about it. Little plastic things that catch poop and pee only to be tossed into the trash and end up in some landfill a week later. I know, I could've used cloth, I could've bought the all-natural decomposing better for the earth kind but hello! i also go to the grocery store with a list and a budget so paying $15 for a pack of 10 diapers was not on my list! It's not that I don't care about our earth b/c if you know me at all you know that is not true! Economically, it's ridiculous!

Anyway, we're starting potty training. Gradually. I posted a question asking for tips on my Facebook page and got a lot of great suggestions (thank you!). The boy is showing all of the signs. He can pull his pants up and down, knows when he's peeing and pooping, and acts emotionally and physically like he's a 3 year old. We'll see. All of our attempts at sitting him on the potty have resulted in him telling us "it doesn't work, mommy." (Looking down at his penis saying that). I know medically speaking that sometimes "it doesn't work" but I'm pretty sure Aedan's just fine and doesn't have some sort of prostate condition at 2. He's such a good sport about it - he'll sit on the potty for 5 minutes trying to pee so he can get the m&m or whatever I'm dangling in front of him as his prize for peeing. Now that I'm typing it, it seems kind of mean. I almost always give in and reward him for just trying which means I've totally ruined the point of 'you've got to do something to earn the reward.' Whatever. My kid.

And true to form, I'm totally obsessing about this. I want to make it work. I need to make it work because I cannot fail. Remember way back in a blog months ago I said I needed to work on not being such an perfectionist when it comes to mothering? Yeah, well, apparently I still need to work on that.

Oy.

Imagination

What happens to adults when we grow up? Why do we stop playing? It is so much darn fun!

The last few weeks I've been noticing that little boy is teetering into the world of imaginative play! It's wonderful to catch or to sneak around the corner and find him reading to all his stuffed animals neatly THROWN on his bedroom floor.

He's always been a good "player." He occupies himself with his toys and is interested in all of the things little kids at his age should be. He fancies my sparkly high heeled shoes which alarms Pat just a little. Another favorite is playing with mommy's make-up, err, um, I mean, zipping and unzipping the make-up cases and opening eye shadows and that sort of thing. There's no application unless you count the one time he dug into my purse in the back seat while I was driving, grabbed a lipstick tube and as I looked into my rear view mirror had appropriately applied just the right amount of bamboo pink (clinique) onto his pouty little lips! But that's cute, right?

Every other month I comment on his particular age and how much more fun it is than the last. But really, this is a fun age! He can say a gazillion words, for the most part can tell me what he wants and adamantly what he does not want. He snuggles, wishes everyone in the house happy birthday randomly, and plays until he can't stand it anymore. And I plain old love it!

But this imaginative play stuff...it's so funny to watch. He loves to go to his big brother's basketball games and watch him play, for one, because he loves basketball and two for the overly butterd and salty popcorn that comes in the brown lunch bag. So last night, he finds the cupboard with our brown lunch baggies, grabs one and pretends it's full of that wondrous snack we call popcorn. He digs his hand in, snatches some make-believe popcorn and chomps on it likes it's the best he's ever had! Then he proceeds to give me, the dog and Pat some. It's adorable.

This one time (and not at band camp) he was running back and forth between the living room and dining room. He stopped in the dining room, put his hand out like he was the Pope blessing the people and calmly said, "It's OK...It's OK..." I'm not sure at all what this was about. No one else was in the room - that I could see anyway. A little frightening now that I think about it.

The point - this kid gives me great joy. He plays without constraint. He loves without embarrassment. He's the happiest person I know. And he oozes with the kind of joy that everyone needs every day of their life. You need to get it from somewhere because man o' man my heart is full of joy with this kid. I'm not saying you need to have children in order to feel this way, you just need to get the joy from somewhere.

Don't misunderstand. This kid makes me see red sometimes and I know it'll only get worse. I won't be the kind of mother that thinks her kid can't do wrong. (We know who his daddy is for pete's sake! I love you Paddy!) Aedan is manipulative with the sweet way he says I love you at 4:00 a.m. when he doesn't want to sleep in his bed anymore. Or doing all he can to stay up for just one more minute. Or just screaming at me for no good reason. But in some way it's tolerable, we deal with it and all is forgotten. Too bad I can't do this with other people in my life :-)

Side story - Aedan seems to get hit in the head a lot. Last night he ran into a door or something at the YWCA - I wasn't there so I don't have details but apparently it knocked him straight back onto his butt and as he was brushing himself off Pat heard him saying, "Aedan's OK...Aedan's OK." Either he's just getting used to knocks on the head or we've got a super tough kid.

Funny.

This Morning's Lesson

I learned today that children become reflections of ALL of your bad habits. I apparently have a potty mouth. Not like a gutter snipe but the oh craps, oh shits, and Jesus (that's a bad one!). I effectively turned the oh shit into oh snap! That sounds really funny coming out of a 21 month old white boys mouth!

Not sure what to do about the Jesus other than to just stop saying it. Aedan's daycare provider advised that I just finish the sentence for him. For example:
#1
Aedan: Jesus!
Sara: ...died for our sins (mommy's potty mouth included!).

#2
Aedan: Jesus!
Sara: ...loves me this I know, for the bible told me so!

#3
Aedan: Jesus!
Sara: ...wept. (ok so I probably won't use this but it is the shortest verse in the entire bible just so you know - Jesus wept.)

The thing about this kid is that the words just don't come out randomely. He uses them in the perfect context! So I guess I should be pretty proud of that. Right? He's a genius!

Learning

What I've learned about 15 year old boys:

1. They are dirty and smelly
2. They are extremely moody
3. They eat a TON. We went through a gallon of milk in two days.
4. They are naive to the world around them. But then again maybe as adults we are just tainted.
5. You really can't explain or reason with them or win any sort of debate because THEY ARE KNOW-IT-ALLS!

These are just a few of the observations I've had so far. And truly, the observations aren't all bad...I'm just pointing out some of the new ones.

But I'm struggling with an issue that I really don't know how to put into words. I think I'm still dumbstruck by the insanity of it. Pat and I are on the same page as far as human rights issues go. Aedan is being raised the same way although he obsessively stares at people who aren't as milky white as his mother. We're working on that! Let's just say it makes me a little uncomfortable and I feel like I have to apologize or something.

Without getting too deep into this topic there have been a few conversations with CTP that raise those little hairs on the back of my neck. I don't know if he's just joking in the way 15 year olds do or being serious. For example, I was watching SYTYCD last night and he made a comment that the male dancers were gay. Whaaaaat? I don't know where that's coming from and it's making me crazy! What is my role? How far can I go?

The environment that has been created in my home is one of understanding and love of all people (well, except people who hurt children). I don't give a flip what people do in their private life or who they love as long as they are being loved. Gay couples should have the same basic human rights as Pat and I do and I certainly don't care if a dancer is gay, straight, orange, or purple. Can they dance? Fantastic!

This is the hard stuff. This is nothing like hiding my pudding or making sure I have a robe on when I get out of the shower. I know what I would say to a friend or family member or my legislator. It's rough terrain with CTP because I'm concerned that what I say will cause problems for he and Pat and court and custody and support. So I step down from my box and lower my flag and hush up.

Reverting

Someone stole my puddin'...and my morning muffin! That someone was my stepson.

Petty much? Yes, my name is Sara.

In the previous post I said we'd ALL have to learn how to live together.

But that was MYYYYY puddin'! This is territorial Sara speaking.

I'm so lame.

From a Family of 3 to 4 Overnight

I've blogged before about my rigid, routine ways before. People who know me know I am proprietary about my space. When something is about to change I need it to be done gradually and incrementally. Before bringing Aedan into the world I had a solid 9 months to prepare. That's a good amount of time.

I don't think I've ever used this blog to talk about my stepson other than a rant about his mother and no I won't tell you which post it was from. You'll have to dig for it so there.

CTP is 15 years old. He's a good kid - smart, funny, handsome. It's hard to believe I've know him for the last 12 years. He's sarcastic like his dad which drives me BONKERS! One Pat is manageable...two Pat's is enough to make you crazy and I just know there's a third one on the way named Aedan.

CTP hasn't ever lived with us. We've had the traditional paternal visitation schedule - every other weekend, one night for dinner. Definitely not the kind of schedule that allows for bonding between father and son. Truly, it sucks for dads and moms for that matter that get stuck with a schedule like that. But we've done what we've done for several years now.

Until now. CTP lives with us currently. His choice, well and the court ordered temporary change in visitation. We're trying it out. Seeing if it works. Making sure he's OK with it.

It's going to be a big adjustment for all of us. We're starting the second week and so far so good. It's crazy wonderful to see the bond that's growing between him and Aedan. Aedan's always loved CTP and I think he feels the same about Aedan. Now Aedan wakes up and "Tarrick" is nearly the first word out of his mouth. (The first word is "mommy" of course, duh.) Aedan climbs all over CTP, plays catch and just plain lights up when he enters the room.

Awesome.

There is nothing in the world like love. I love my husband, my family, my child - those are given. To witness unconditional love between siblings is simply beautiful.

So back to my territorial nature. It's hard getting used to him being there around the clock. There are things you can't do with a teenager in the house. There are things Pat and I can't do with a teenager in the house (snicker, snicker, sorry mom.). A lot more rule setting and rule enforcing. Heavens, there's a lot more carting around!

And, I'm still trying to sort out my role as stepmom...am I just the adult friend in the house, do I discipline? At the same time I need to stay consistent for Aedan.

We have roughly 2 years left before CTP goes off to college. TWO YEARS. It reminds me of someone that said, "You really only have 18 years with your children and then they're released into the world." God I hope that wasn't Kate from John and Kate plus 8. Did I really just quote her?

I'm hoping for Pat, Carrick's and Aedan's sake that the "temporary" becomes "official." Pat deserves a chance to get to know his oldest boy...Carrick deserves to know his father...Aedan needs to know and love his brother.

And we're back

Back from our final trip (hopefully) of the fall. Boy it's been a busy couple of months. Fun but busy.

Just wanted to brief everyone because I know you must be wondering how the flight to and from Texas went. To - fine, he was perfect. From - fine and perfect EXCEPT for the massive explosion of diarrhea as we were curbside checking our bags at the Austin Airport. Thank God my sister was with me because I couldn't have possibly dealt with the airline guy and the crap up the back of my 18 month old at the same time.

So there we stood: stripped down naked baby outside the airport. Sister grabbed naked baby while I nervously rummaged through my about to be checked bag for a clean shirt. Wipes were flying everywhere. I was freaking out. Aedan was crying. I was worried that I'd miss our flight. I need to work on the part where I freak out - it makes him nervous.

We managed to clean little boy up but not without the both of us smelling like the inside of a diaper genie. He soaked through a bit of his pants but the airline guy had already taken my checked bag. So we just dealt with it.

Made it safely to our gate and to our flight. About 15 minutes from landing in Detroit here it comes again. All mothers know that face - the far off distant look of a toddler...the stick straight stature...here comes the red face and sometimes grunt. I apologized to the guy sitting next to us - the pilot had just turned the fasten your seat belt light on so I couldn't change him. I imagined this brown cloud of crap smell filling the cabin and everyone staring at me. Thank goodness there was another kid sitting right behind us that the stench could be pinned on. Sorry kid.

Poor boy had been dealing with diarrhea for about two days of our trip. Now that we're home he's almost back on track. I'm afraid I've managed to convert this child to my crazy world of routine. Screw with the routine and you're messed up for the day, week or whatever. Flexibility is not my strong suit.

So here we are again. Happily home. Ready for Fall.