Welcome!

"There is most certainly a conspiracy afoot to hide the whole truth from potential new mothers. Were it not for this organized campaign, our species would run the very serious risk of losing all evolutionary viability. The Le Leche League may or may not be involved." -Government’s Investigative Committee on Parenting

#1. I LOVE MY BABY.

#2. WHAT FRESH HELL IS THIS?

Sweet, nourishing miiiilk. Give it me now.

2015 UPDATE 

• After being a single mom for four years, Nathaniel now has a stepdad!
• Those four years were rough, but I found out I could handle it which was awesome.
• These years also were a long saga of emotional difficulties for Nathaniel and after many therapy sessions, teacher meetings, psychologists, etc etc we ended up with "the good new and the bad."  Good: His I.Q. got him a Mensa membership at age 8.  Bad: ADHD and ODD.  Okay, I'll retract the word "bad" and say "challenging."
• I didn't write in here for a long time because, after a divorce, you worry what can be taken out of context and used against you...and my humor leans to the self-effacing.  Judge: you say here in your blog "I'm a totally screwed up mom.  What did you mean by that?"  Me: I was joking?  Sort of? 

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Skyrim

This is how we spend our snow days....

Fireman Nathaniel

Just another day of saving lives and being a hero....

CRISIS MANAGEMENT: Tub Drain

Our tub has had no cover on the drain for a few years. To unclog it one we had had to break out the old one and my x-husband tried two different new ones that didn't fit. The project died there and went no further. I got a cheap little cover at walmart, caulked it in, and just replaced it periodically. It was not a good system, although it was better than nothing.

This was one of the first home repair challenges I took on once finding myself single. I started by examining the drains my husband had purchased (he'd never returned them so they were still around - yes, that's me being bitter). I fiddled with the one that looked like the best candidate and eventually tried to install it. It seemed to fit the threads of the tub, but soon grew too hard to turn further. So I created this handy tool out of some pliers and a wrench in order to apply more leverage....


After great effort the truth became clear. The shaft was too long. It simply couldn't be screwed in any further. Next step was visiting our wonderful local plumbing supply store. I walked in with the original one that we'd broken out and one that almost worked, while towing my then three year old along with me. As I tried to look through the shelves for the right thing, Nathaniel was making a ruckus trying to run around and look at all the neat stuff in the store while I struggled to curb him in and still get done what I needed. After some time of this, the owners peeked down the aisle at us and I was grateful to see not looks of total irritation on their faces but broad smiles. The woman walked up to me and instantly started trying to help me quickly find the right part.

Once we realized they didn't have it, she turned my old broken drain cover over to the man there and with a little tinkering he actually fixed it so that it could be used again! My total cost was under $3.00!! Finally having a real drain in the tub again was one of the most sublime feelings, made only more so because of the personal feeling of satisfaction at having accomplished it.

I think that the moral here is first to just TRY and to be patient and persistent about your task. Secondly, do not be afraid to admit that you need help at the store. Oh, and if you find yourself in this position, take the parts you're working on WITH YOU!

Independence Day!

Interesting lesson learned today. It's fourth of July and I really didn't feel like going anywhere this year, but felt too guilty about depriving my child of a potential "experience" to give in to my laziness. I know Nathaniel doesn't like loud noises, but I tried to reassure him when he said he didn't want to go to the fireworks display. I felt certain he'd love it once he was out there. From my superior adult vantage I thought I knew better than he did what he'd like. And then, too, there was such a feeling of relief at the thought of being able to legitimately stay home for the evening, it made me even more determined that we should go.

Anyone could guess where this is going. The thirty minutes we were out there he never took his hands off his ears as people set off their own little sparklers and bottle rockets across the field. Even when he was happy and playing with one of his friends for a brief time, the hands did not come down. Finally, he begged me to go back to the car where he insisted on staying with all the doors and windows closed. I sat in there with him as he colored in the back seat and suddenly he said to me, "Why are we not at home? I told you I didn't want to go to see fireworks."

He DID tell me, more than once. I underestimated his ability to "fully understand" the situation and vetoed him. But, he does know what he likes and what he doesn't and I'll save us both a lot of grief if I listen to him rather than trying to manipulate his childhood experience with an eye on maximizing future nostalgic moments!

At this point now.

Last May 2nd marked one year since my husband moved out. A month after the divorce was signed by the judge in March, he was all ready remarried and his new wife several months pregnant, and I will only spend one half of my child's Christmas's with him. All of that alone is enough to make my head spin, let alone the changes, learning experiences and emotions I've encountered each day of this last year. Which brings me to my point: what this blog feels like to me now.

It began, and remains, a place to chuckle and wonder over the challenges of being a new parent. Now, though, it is also a venue to explore and report on the ups and down of being a single mom. Surprisingly, there are a lot of ups. First and foremost, I had no idea how much I was capable of until I was thrown into this "pack leader" position. I'd been single before and had my own bills to pay, etc, but I'd not had a child depending on me, and a 100 year old house. and a mortgage, and no time. Ha, this is starting to sound like the down part! But it's not. It's hard to explain it without wanting to lean on cliche. I liken it sort of to having an awesome and expensive tool in your toolbox but never using it so you never even know if it works or if it was worth all that money. I feel like I've been taken out of the toolbox and put to use for the first time. A year ago, I didn't even realize that I was still in my original packaging, never yet unwrapped.

As much as I originally meant this blog as a way to update all my friends and family, I also imagined that perhaps, occasionally, some random new parent might happen to stumble upon it and that they might feel a comradarie in knowing that there are other moms and dads out there who are willing to admit they don't really know what they're doing! Now, I want to add in my mind that random single mom wandering across the page. I want to reassure her and tell her "take heart because you WILL kick ass."

I bring it on myself, I know.

So, last night I could not get him to stay in bed. I tried sitting in a chair in the room doing the trick of picking him up and putting him back into bed each time he got up, while also trying to resist getting into conversation with him or giving him any kind of "rewarding" attention. He twisted and sobbed on the bed, telling me he was scared and needed me in the bed with him.

I pondered over this today, wondering if my own weakness of wanting him to sleep with me was directly leading to this fear and inability to sleep alone. And perhaps so! But then tonight, out of the blue, he decides he wants to sleep downstairs all by himself as long as I leave a light on and turn on some music for him. He came up here once to ask me to sleep with him downstairs and when I said no, he went on back by himself.

Maybe he just couldn't bare to leave the room that held his new Lego Indiana Jones PS2 game. Buying that today was my brilliant inspiration on the way home from the dentist with a prescription for penicillin and lortab...I had a feeling I wasn't going to want to do much this evening! My plan worked purrrfectly and it's a two player game so I was able to lay on the couch and play with him, which is fun for both of us.

Sloppy bedtime rules

I'm contemplating changing our nighttime story reading routine. Instead of crawling into bed together, perhaps we could shift to doing it downstairs on the couch or in the big chair in the bedroom. Maybe I'll stop falling asleep at 8:00 PM that way.

Bedtime rules are all over the place right now. Particularly after the time change this year and there being daylight later.

Further, because I have no rules established, I can't easily send him to bed when company is over. On these nights, I'm completely ineffectual, allowing him to stay up until 10:00 PM or whenever he just conks out.

Okay, so I have to pick a time. And that time will begin with reading some stories NOT IN THE BED. And then I'll leave and the rule will be he has to stay in the bedroom. I'll start there. That will be enough of an epic battle to begin with.

Rites of Spring 2010

Nathaniel and I joined our god-family the Milams at the annual Rites of Spring camp out. Here are some pics...



They all look a little spooky in this one, but I swear they were not really so "children of the corn" as this image may lead one to believe...


He looks like an old 40's Hollywood man in this one to me...




My little monkey in the tent...







Ah, the glorious feeling of MUD!!!

Oh, Poopie, daaarling......

I fear this will bite me in the butt. Oops. I forgot. We say "tooshie" or "bootie" because apparently toddler boys throw the word butt around with the inflection of the coarsest sailor. Sad, because I've previously used butt as an endearing term of affection. "You silly butt, Oh look at your cute little butt, Get your butt out of my way," and well, I think my point is made.

Now, I don't dare say the butt word in front of Nathaniel for fear he'll go into preschool the next day challenging his little friends with such taunts as "stupid butt" and "smelly butt."

Oh, yeah, and speaking of "stupid," let me digress. Our household had to instate a rule with subclauses regarding that one. He can call objects stupid but not people or animals or anything remotely sentient. I, of course, use the word stupid to describe people all the time (even myself). But, I'd like to think my advanced age has given me the grace and maturity to know how to handle such a powerful adjective. Mostly, though, I just don't want him horrifying his teachers at school. That's what 85% of the language rules come down to. Do NOT say anything that will make your teachers frown upon you and and, by extension, ME!

So, you might sympathize with me this evening. I was tired and a little cranky, but my kid soon softened me up by being adorable. We were having fun playing and, in that vulnerable and compromised state, I allowed a new game to be introduced between us. He calls me Poopie and I call him PeePee. Oh, yes, yes....it was hysterical and we both laughed and laughed...yes, good times....

Until reality hit me and I was all ready seeing him clearly at school the next day. "Poopie! You're Poopie! Heeheehee. Poopie Poopie PeePee. You're PeePee."

Reacting swiftly, I sat my son down and had the very surreal conversation with him about the "you're PeePee and I'm Poopie" being our private game that we only play at home. Which seems potentially a little creepy or weird.

The Gentleman Prefers Blonds

Me: Do you think I'm pretty?

Him: Yes.

Me: Is there anyone prettier than me?

Him: Kendra.

Me: Is there anyone prettier than Kendra?

Him: Jacob!

Me: Jacob!?

Him: No, I'm just kidding.

Me: So Kendra is the prettiest, but I'm next prettiest, right?

Him: Yes. Who else is pretty?

Me: I don't know. That's for you to say. You tell me.

Him: Audrey's mom.

Me: I'm going to tell Kendra you said she's pretty.

Him: Tell Audrey's mom too.

Sweet Moment

Walking towards the car at school. Nathaniel stops and says, "I broke your red flower and I am so very sorry."
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I kneel down and ask him what he's talking about, had he made me a flower at school or something, what red flower did he mean?
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"No," he said. "I picked it from the garden on the playground but then I broke it on the trike."
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I gave him a hug and said, "Oh, honey, I love it that you thought of me today and picked me a flower and you know what? That's just as good as if you gave it to me. It doesn't matter that it broke."
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He paused and thought for a moment, then walked over to a dandelion, picked it and handed it to me.
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Warms a mommy's heart.

Birthday Yoda

When Nathaniel turned 4 in March I gave him a Yoda for his Birthday. The Jedi Master is enjoying total Rock Star status. I've all ready been forbidden to speak in any way disrespectfully to the Yoda. For example, last night I had the audacity to say "Yoda, could you please move over so that I can get into bed too?" Apparently, I was pretty much completely out of line.

A video of their first meeting can be found below....

The Dog Whisperer

Recently, I immersed myself in Season Two of the Dog Whisperer on DVD. It was another recommendation from my Pediatrician, who suggested that Cesar Millan's insights into dog behavior could often be carried over to raising your child. It did not take me many episodes to become a devoted fan of Millan. First and foremost is his manner. Rather than try to describe it, I direct the reader to this link where Malcom Gladwell does a far better job than I ever could. I'll just say that Cesar Millan projects something that is so engaging and reassuring that it is impossible not to be as charmed by him as the chaotic canines he encounters seem to be.

Pondering his lessons over the holidays, I came to one main revelation about my own life: I need to become my family's pack leader. Millan suggests that the behavior of your pack is the best reflection of your own stability. If you are out of balance, so too will be your pack and they will express it any number of neurotic and/or aggressive ways. Leeloo, the actual canine member of my pack, has long been a difficult dog and in recent years I've come to just let her do her own thing and lead a life separate from ours in a lot of ways. And then there is Nathaniel, who acts out in various ways as we recreate our lives since his father's departure. Suddenly, the connection between dog and child seem so obvious. So long as I'm out of balance, Nathaniel (my "pack") is going to reflect it. How Nathaniel deals with these changes we're going through is invariably linked to how I am responding to these changes.

It has become so clear to me how fully I must embrace the role of Pack Leader, from how I relate to my dog and and to my child, to being the one to see that the plumbing is working and there's food in the house. My first step on this path has been trying to redefine my relationship with Leeloo during this past week. Establishing myself in the alpha position above her has become symbolic to me of the entire process. If I can't succeed there, how can I succeed overall?

The whole task looming before me could be intimidating, but there is something comforting in understanding just how much is required of you, even if it's a lot. And even as I type this, Leeloo has come over to my chair and laid herself at my feet, a Jack London picture of loyalty. Pack Leader. I can do this.

Polar Express

Another good piece of advice from Doctor Youngblood was a warning about trying to avoid living "parallel" lives with Nathaniel. He pointed out how under even normal circumstances that happens so easily....you're doing your thing while he's off playing with his cars or watching a show....but add to that suddenly becoming a single mom and you really have to start watching it.

There's so much to do. How can I do it all and still be spending time enough truly WITH my child?

One suggestion Youngblood had was to incorporate Nathaniel into what it is I am doing. Let him help make dinner, set the table, etc. This also ties into his advice to get Nathaniel to bed a normal hour because that way some of these things I feel I need to get done I can do after he's down for the night.

I still catch myself all the time falling into that parallel existence, but more and more I try to be conscious of it enough to bring our paths back together. Tonight was an example. I put on Polar Express for him to watch. Having seen it already myself, I had planned to stick a Romantic Comedy into my laptop, put on some headphones, and sit with him on the couch while he watched his movie and me mine. Well, it didn't take five minutes for me to realize I couldn't do that. He was so taken with that movie, he talked and made observations about it all the way through. So I quickly set my headphones aside, relaxed, and turned myself over to the Polar Express. And, as it turned out, it was well worth a second viewing, particularly when shared with someone seeing it for the first time. Then it's magic.

Nighty night

Update on the bedtime rituals since seeing Dr. Youngblood. Tonight, we started reading an hour earlier than usual. Thankfully it gets dark earlier because you can't put anything over on that kid. If he looks out the window and see it's not "nighttime," he's not buying into your game. This night was rougher as he threw a very long fit and would not stay in bed. I tried a little of that technique of just kindly but silently returning them to bed over and over and over......Then I switched to something Dr. Youngblood told me about "lending them your calmness." I sat in bed with him and held him very tightly, "constraining" him really, as I tried to help him just get past his hysterics and pull himself together...AND stay in bed. It was not an easy battle. But, I DID get downstairs by 8:45 PM and was able to tidy my kitchen and then even spend a little quality time with my dog. Slowly, I'm learning to get some of my own life back and at the same time working to be completely present when he and I ARE together.

Maybe next year...

I failed with my gardening plans this year. I was going to experiment with "rock mulching" gardening and try to grow just spinach and scallions....two good shade plants since I have plenty of that. However, events conspired against me (I can blame it on that although laziness might have been more at the root) and last week I tore down even the feeble remains of Matthew's hillbilly herb garden he'd begun before leaving. Leeloo had already taken the space and used it to store the numerous dirty diapers she steals from the pail when I'm not watching. She rolls around in the diapers in Matthew's neglected garden like a mobster moll rolling around on a bed covered in 100 dollar bills. Then she eats them.

Put that kid to bed!

I recently spoke with Nathaniel's original Pediatrician from the hospital about how things are going since our family split up. It was such a great conversation and full of so many things that I don't know where to begin. It may take several posts as I process the information and apply some of his suggestions and insights.

I think to start with I'll explain how it is that I have this quiet moment to actually sit down and blog.

The Doctor wanted to know if Nathaniel slept well through the night . I assured him we didn't have any problems on that front, but then I happened to just jokingly add that things have really changed from the old days when Nathaniel would always get up WAY earlier than I wanted to and make me wake me up. Now, I'm the first one up and I have to harass him into getting out of bed. Dr. Youngblood nailed me on that immediately. "He's going to bed too late!"

He reminded me that kids need a lot of sleep and that I too would benefit by having that time alone in the evening after he goes to bed to do some things for myself.

And so here I am enjoying the multi-tasking thrill of simultaneously facebooking, gmailing, blogging and skyping :)

Pediculus humanus capitis

There is such a stigma attached to this affliction, but you find you have to quickly get over it once your three year old starts spending more time out in the world. The temptation to point a finger elsewhere is also very strong. Ohhhh, yes, he must have got it from that neighbor kid…
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And, of course, if Nathaniel has passed it on to anyone else, then he, too, is now "that neighbor kid."
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So, logically, you have to just let that kind of thinking go, buck up, and try not to take it personally when your kid is infested with lice. Getting it under control has been difficult this week in part, I think, because he now lives in two households and until we all got on the same page and coordinated our efforts, we might as well have been inviting the lice in for tea and crumpets. Actually, I'm not even 95% sure we're through this yet so knock on wood.
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On the bright side, our current ordeal inspired me to finally purchase electric hair clippers which will save money on future haircuts. The second day he was sent home for having lice, I cut it down to 3/8 inch. The THIRD day, it went down to 1/8. It's pretty challenging to cut hair that short and get it even. It's getting cold, though. I can slap a hat on his head.