Things I Learned in 2009

I learned that age is a state of mind.

Moving home was the best thing I could ever do for Wyatt. He is surround by family that adores him and he, in turn, has filled our home with laughter.

I have reached my Backyardigans limit. I'm sorry Wyatt. I'm tapping out.

Despite first impressions, working for a church is never dull.

I am surprisingly in love with that stupid dog, renamed Doctor Pupstein, aka Pup.

I will always search for the silver lining in every situation and every person.

Hard times will come but eventually the good times will come too.

Sometimes all I need is five minutes and a cup of tea to clear my head.

I am still using a bottle in my hand as a security blanket, if I am uncomfortable undoubtedly a beer will make me feel more assured.

Life moves slowly when you are waiting for it to go.

My family grows stronger and more resilient every year despite hardships endured.

Pity parties are boring.

Every store I walk into I will find something for Wyatt. I have learned not to look.

I tend to make mountains out of molehills.

I am terrified of other peoples children, despite having my own.

I have been hurt, I will be hurt again, and there is nothing I can do about it.

Wyatt's angelic face still catches me of guard. How is it possible that I have created something so beautiful?

I am terrible at keeping in touch but I think about my friends (old and new) on a daily basis.

I am slowly being pushed out of my own bed by a toddler's size 7 and a snoring puppy that must be in contact with my body at all times. I have been contemplating curling up at the bottom of the bed. There will be more room for me that way.

My patience is a work in progress.

I am an eternal optimist, sometimes to a fault.

There is nothing more exhilarating to me then the first few months of a relationship when sleep doesn't matter.

Its easier to blame others then take responsibly for our actions. I do not want to be that person.

I am grateful for every break in my heart. It has made me who I am today.

We (meaning our entire household and a few frequenters of 105) are on a first name basis with the entire cast of Cars, which is extremely impressive since my Dad can barely remember my name half the time.

I am very sensitive regarding my mothering skills and tend to take every comment to heart. I am working on fixing this.

Online dating is not as scary or intimidating as I thought. Actually, it can be down right fun.

I have added words like sacristy, eucharist, vestments, Lambeth, and episcopalian into my daily vocabulary.

All I need is a hug from my son to make any bad feeling melt away.

I take my family for granted. Period.

When my sisters and I are together we revert to children. I honestly think that this will still ring true when I'm 50. What can I say? They bring out the best in me.

I would rather live in a messy house then miss one minute of Wyatt's cuteness.

I've learned to keep breathing.

Mothering a toddler is much harder then mothering a baby.

I can be extremely motivated or extremely lazy and usually nothing in between.

Wyatt continues to be my joy, my greatest love, and the best thing about me.

Contender Four and Merry Christmas to All!

The Vast Ocean

The biggest problem that I have encountered with my new found dating escapades is when to drop the "Baby Bomb". I am pretty hesitant to say anything at least for the first few dates. Simply because I want to make sure the new guy is focused on dating me and not a creep that wants to meet my son. There are sick people out there. But it's a waiting game. If I wait too long, they might think I am hiding other things or that I am embarrassed about having a child, which couldn't be farther from the truth. Wyatt is the best thing about me. Then sometimes, if I delve too soon, I don't hear from them again. It has happened, several times. "Oh, you have a son! Well, it was nice meeting you." Seriously. Which I guess I would rather know in the beginning then waste my time.

I have a hugely difficult time talking about myself while excluding Wyatt. He is engrained in the fabric that I am made of. I have come to define myself as a mother, everything beyond that has become blurry. Pick the single, most defining aspect of your life, the part that excites you the most, that you think about most constantly, that everything else in your life hinges around and erase it. Then try to carry out several conversations, maybe a date or two, without trying to speak of that one thing or remotely elude to it. Compile that with my deep love of talking about Wyatt and it is near impossible for me. Someone once told me that I light up even speaking his name. Yes, I have interests beyond Wyatt which I tend to focus on but eventually I get the "why" questions. Why do you work 19 hours a week? Why did you move back to LI? Why don't you travel more? Are those fish stickers on your phone? Its kind of hard to juggle around.

Then there is the anxiety that builds once I decide I am going to spill. How should I phrase this? Where is my lead in? How will they take it? Do I answer all the questions that follow? I got "How did you acquire your son?" once. Isn't that the oddest choice of wording! I was on a date about 3 weeks ago. It was going really well, as first dates go, and after 3 drinks I decided that I wanted to tell him about Wyatt. Sooner then I would have but there was an ease of conversation and a comfortability that had promise. So I found an opening and jumped. In the obligatory 5 second pause he took to compose himself, I practically peed with self doubt. He took a deep breath and said "I am honored that you trusted me enough to tell me about your son." VERBATIM, forever etched in my memory. By far the best answer I have gotten and one that made me adore him even more. Then after a few more questions about Wyatt (nothing about how I acquired him) he continues with "I am sure coming out took some planning. So, thank you for spending your night out with me." Swoon. Needless to say, I have seen him a couple times since and would be mortified if he finds this and knows I am writing about him but it is such a good story.

Christmas Contender: Three

Christmas Contender: Two

22 Months

Wyatt,

Good Lord Child! You had your first, bona fide, screaming, stamping, Broadway worthy, hissy fit today. You did not want to get out of the car. You wanted to go to the post office. Problem was, love, that we had already been there. I wrangled you out of your car seat praying that I could get you to the house before the neighbors called DSS. Once inside, you threw your little body on the floor, wailing and waving your arms. Then you stood up, ran over to your train table and threw all of the toys on the floor. When I would try to pick you up to comfort you, you would make your body limp so it was like picking up a single strand of angel hair pasta with chopsticks. I tried to distract you with ice pops and Pup and pretty much anything I could think of. Eventually, I wrapped you in my biggest bear hug with all three of your blankets and you quieted then fell asleep in about 2 minutes. Poor thing. It was very tragic. At one point I had to smile at the insanity of it all.

This is the second time this week that you have refused to get out of the car. Earlier this week, we went to a party at Brianne and Elias's new house. You had a blast but then I had to switch gears to go to a not-so-surprise engagement party for Michael and Johanna. (Congrats!!) I began prepping you, telling you we were going to another party. Well, we stopped home to get Gammy and you really wanted to GO TO ANOTHER PARTY!!! The huge crocodile tears rolling down your cheeks when I shut off the car engine. Needless to say, we got to Michael's an hour early. Either I am pushing you way past your over-tired limit or you are a very social little guy and need to be around your adoring public all the time. Beyond these two isolated incidents you have been amazing, as usual. Maybe you are just trying not to spoil me. Or maybe, just maybe, you are testing your limits. Seeing how far you need to push me before I cave to give you what you want. I will not even mention that I am a huge push over, especially for you.

We have been working on counting. Basically I have been sticking to one, two, three. Which you always count as one, three, two. I'll take it. Then, the other day, we were counting the wheels on your train and you bust out with "One, three, two, five, six, eight!" Granted, not quite right but SOO close. You retain so much more then I think you do. I guess I have to steamroll ahead and start counting to 10. Our class at the Y has got you interested in songs too. You started singing "Raining, pouring, raining, pouring" which I think was suppose to be "Its raining. Its pouring. The old man is snoring." You also sing "Clean up time, clean up time." when you put your toys away. You don't get the melody right but you raise your voice to this sing-song falsetto that is perhaps the sweetest sound I have ever heard. You have a talent that we have just begun to see.

I go through spurts of feeling motivated to get you out of my bed. I have been in one recently, after a night when I thought I had a black eye because you kicked me in the face. But then you always redeem yourself and I go back to not caring. Last night, I was trying to get you to sleep, you were all cuddled in my arms, and I feel your little finger start tracing circles around my eyelids. You start whispering "Momma's sleeping. Night, night, Momma. Shhhh, Momma's sleeping." then you poke my nose and start saying "wake up, Momma, wake up!" I open my eyes and you start laughing inches from my face with your huge blue eyes looking right into mine. Why would I ever want to give that up?

I love you everyday. (Even during a hissy fit!)

Momma

Christmas Contender: One

The next few Saturday's I am posting our Christmas Card contender photos. Sound off to which one you this is the best!

The Story Teller at His Finest

I went into Party City with Wyatt and he found this HUGE balloon of Pablo from the Backyardigans. I had left my wallet in the car (classic Kate) besides $8 for the balloon is ridiculous. So, trying to ward off a toddler hissy fit, I told him it was stuck. OH MY GOD, he went on about that balloon for days. Saying it was stuck, he couldn't reach it and we can't get it down. If I knew it meant that much to him I would have just bought the silly thing. At the end of the video he does his classic "oh no, oh no." He says that ALL the time in this high falsetto that sounds so tragic like the world is ending. There is a crack in our driveway that gets him every time we go to the car. "Crack!! Oh no, oh no." The way he says it I wouldn't be surprised if the Grand Canyon suddenly appeared in our driveway.

The 3 P's of My Life: Puke, Poop, and Pee

Wyatt is sick. I know its that time of year when everyone feels yucky but he is so helpless when he feels bad. He can't tell me what is bothering him so he just sits and looks pathetic. It makes it so much worse. He has this hacking cough that made him sound like a barking seal in the beginning and now sounds more like the heat coming on in the old pipes. When I do get him to sleep, he will wake himself up in coughing fits where he can't breathe. Last night it got so bad he started throwing up. He totally didn't care. It was like "Hack, hack, puke, hack, puke, hack, hack. Oh, Mom turned the light on. Time to get my trucks!" At one point, while I was changing the sheets, he threw a "Morning!!" in the mix. "No, bud, its still time for sleeping." Its already been a week and two doctor visits. I really hope it doesn't last much longer.

I want everyone who said no to us getting a dog to keep their "I told you so's" to themselves for a minute while I vent about Pup. Pup is very cute, cuddly and lovable but he is also very stupid. Seriously, there has to be some genetic flaw or lack of brain cells or something. He EATS everything. EVERYTHING!! If you need an example: all of Wyatt's toys, books, the draft dodger, pens, my underwear (which is too disgusting to go into detail), bananas, paper, glasses, my cell phone charger and Mac charger, etc, etc. I am praying that it is just the puppy phase because if he keeps on I am going to give him away on the corner. I am tailoring Wyatt's Christmas list around what I think will last the longest without Pup eating it. I found this amazing functioning cement mixer that Wyatt would DIE for and I am hesitating because spending $40 on a dog toy is out of my budget. Also, he is still having potty issues. Specifically, when I am giving Wyatt a bath. I think it might be vindictive because Pup will get in the bath if I let him in the bathroom. But my common sense tells me he is not smart enough to be vindictive. I yell "Pup" four thousand times a day. Bear was just such an amazing dog. Even in heaven she is still making Pup look bad. My only consolation is that Wyatt adores him. Seeing Wyatt on the couch with Pup's head on his lap is worth it while I am scrubbing the carpet. Most of the time. Ok, I'm ready for the "I told you so's" now.

Wyatt said "Stop cars, train coming" about two weeks ago. I was reading him a book and we were on a page about a railroad crossing. Hands down, he is a genius. I am considering this a sentence. Sentences before two years old!! Is this genius status or am I just being a proud mom who thinks their child is the best and possibly the next Einstein? His sense of language in general seems very advanced to me. He knows possessives. Like Mom's shoes and Pa's shirt. He has a sense of humor. He does this fake laugh, covers his mouth and says "silly, silly." He tells whole stories around the dinner table about what he did at Mommy and Me class or what he saw outside that day. Now, if I can just get him to pee on the potty. We sat in the bathroom yesterday for 10 minutes for him to walk into the den and pee on the rug.