What We're Listening To

and

The kiddo is really into the Eurythmics. I even bought a CD of their greatest hits.

You're Not Coming to My Birthday Anymore

Lately Monster has been holding his birthday party over my head. As in, when he gets mad at me, he tells me, "You're not coming to my birthday anymore!" Not just me either. Anyone who pisses him off or looks at him wrong is taken off the list of invitees.

Today was different though. Today is my birthday and this morning, as he was holding my hand, he told me, "You come to my birthday mama."

And no matter what happens the rest of this day, that will be the best part.

Redefining dating because, like, I have a toddler

As a single mom, my social life is reduced to two days per week (which, now that I think about it, is probably way more than a non-single mom has. Haha! Suckers!). Even so, it gets kind of tricky dating someone seriously and trying to integrate that relationship into the routine that goes along with parenting.

The new Beau and I have done romantic grocery shopping together (only, I’m being totally sarcastic about the romantic part), he’s met my friends at dinner/play dates, and when we watch movies together, it’s usually Monster’s choice.

This past weekend, I lured the Beau the 40 minute drive to my houes with the promise of a roasted chicken dinner, home made by me. When I picked up Monster from the Ex, it became apparent that it was going to be pretty hard to pull off what I said I would. First, pick up time is smack dab in the middle of dinner prep time. Second, poor Monster had fallen ill again (this early spring has been my worst nightmare Monster-health-wise). When we got home, all he wanted to do was snuggle with me and watch Toy Story 2. I couldn’t even get up from the couch to preheat the oven without upsetting him. So I texted the Beau, who volunteered to pick up some sandwiches on his way over. At the very least, dinner would be served. After that, though, nothing went even remotely according to a dating agenda.

Because of course, Monster would have tummy troubles. And tummy troubles for him means a desperate attempt at keeping a horrifying and toxic mess from happening all over my house and company for me.

I ran upstairs to run a bath and when that was done, Beau carried Monster in outstretched arms and as far away from his person as possible, up the steps. Between the two of us, we managed to remove the diaper and keep the contents from spilling onto everything. And thank goodness there were two of us. I understand now why a child needs two parents. Beau kept watch over bath time while I ran to the store to get constipation-inducing food items.

After Monster was all clean and pajama-fied, the Beau stuck around for a few minutes before conspicuously looking at the clock and jetting. No doubt to go home, bathe in Lysol and drink himself silly. Probably not at all what he expected when I invited him over for a nice chicken dinner. Sorry babe! Thanks for continuing to call me though. You’re definitely a champ for taking all this on.

Valentine's Day Gift . . . If I can wait until then

I am not good with surprises. This is why I like to do my Christmas shopping at the very last minute. I get so excited about the gifts that I want to give them to people right away.

I am not one of those romantic-types. I think that stuff is mostly corny and it makes me uncomfortable but I do love Valentine's Day. I think of it as a little kid holiday though. I love sending Monster to daycare with his little stack of cards for his friends. I love making (and eating) heart-shaped food.

This year, due to Monster's love of Muppets, I got him this:

But it's so cute, I'm not sure I can wait the almost two weeks to give it to him. The Ex says to just give him the Kermit already as he won't really understand what Valentine's Day is anyway. I'm tempted. Very very tempted.

Thoughts?

How imagination saved my son from a life of crime

I’m guessing 2.5 is the age kids really start using their imaginations. Actually, probably later as Monster is well ahead of the curve (chuckle). In all seriousness, Monster and I were having a couple of rough weeks. He had been getting some time outs at daycare – mostly for not listening – and evenings had been borderline nightmarish. He was fighting me at every turn. Recently, though (and by recently I mean the past 2 weeks or so), things have been looking up. Ever since he’s assigned everyone he knows a Muppet personality, he been an absolute dream.

Our evenings used to go like this: I would have to carry him kicking and screaming to the car because he wanted to run around in the street in front of the babysitter’s house. Then I would have to hold him down to strap him in his car seat because he would want to drive. I would have to carry him kicking and screaming into the house because he didn’t want to get out of the car. And then he’d hold on to my leg and drag me around while I was trying to make dinner unless I would turn the TV on immediately.

Now that he has adopted the Kermit the Frog personality, he’s been much easier to get along with. As long as I address him as Kermit or Kermie, he’s happy. He’s even happier if I use my Miss Piggie voice to do so. He plays nicely by himself while I make dinner (no need to turn the TV on – win!) and doesn’t throw a fit when it’s time to go take a bath or go to bed.

Every morning I would drag him (you guess it!) kicking and screaming out of the house to go to the babysitter’s but once she became Gonzo and her house became The Muppet Show, it’s been no problem. And while at Gonzo’s, he’s been less ornery and happier. As long as he gets to give everyone a hug and a kiss goodbye, he leaves nicely too.

Clearly his imagination has given him the tools he needs to exert his will without fighting with the rest of us.

Just last night, as he was going to sleep, I could hear him conversing with who-knows-who, saying, “I’m Kermit.”

“No, I’m Kermit.”

“I’m Fozzie Bear.”

“No, my dad’s Fozzie Bear.”

And then he was asleep, without fuss or fight.

So nice that he’s using his imagination for good, not evil. At least for now.

Toddler Holiday Quirks

This Christmas season has been such an experience! It's really the first year Monster has been able to understand and participate. He learned about Santa and wish lists and Christmas trees and reindeer . . . the whole shebang really. What I find most hilarious and endearing are the little holiday quirks he's already developed.

Like, he has no idea that the Grinch turns good at the end. Which, if you ask me, is pretty much the whole point of the story. But Monster seems to think the story focuses on how sad Max (the dog) is which is a valid point. Throughout the whole ugly business of that Grinch stealing Christmas, the only time Monster expresses outrage is when he removes the star from the Who tree. Which leads me to . . .

Monster thinks the only ornament allowed on a Christmas tree is a star. I mean, obviously a string of lights is ok but anything else he pulls off and throws to the floor. This is why I'm glad I had the lack of preparation forsight to not have ornaments. 'Cause they would be broken. Even the ornaments he makes at daycare aren't acceptable adornment.

One can only sing Jingle Bells if one is wearing a Santa hat. So, I got him a Santa hat except that, when we were out getting our tree, he got to wear his cousin's Santa hat and now he thinks that's his and any other hat I try to bestow upon him is 'mama hat' and therefore unacceptable.

Quirks and all, this Christmas is going to rule! Happy Holidays to you and yours!

From me and mine

Every Extra Second

One thing I was happy I did this morning, even though it took seemingly FOREVER, was to let Monster help me scrape the ice off the windows of the car. Really all he did was hold the scraper while I did most of the work, but he was so happy to help and it kept him from running away behind the house again.

I'm lucky to have a job that is flexible so that I don't have to rush Monster into the car and to the babysitter's. We can take a bit of time to snuggle on the couch, play Gruffalo, or scrape the car windows.

I love every extra second. Well the pleasant ones anyway.