Am I giving my son my cravings?

I just noticed that I am pushing all my cravings off on my son. It's funny and ridiculous. It's like breaking a vase and blaming it on a child.

Case in point: I am calorie counting right now. Well this is a lifestyle change, so I'll be calorie counting for life. This is devastating! The craziest part about calories are you could never guess how many you are eating if you tried. It would always be wrong. If you measure your food you would see you eat too much. This is a terrible revelation. It proved the point that if you eat yourself 3/4's full you will be totally satisfied. Your food does expand or your belly realizes how much you ate. I don't know, but it happens. I am having epiphany's daily, and I'm being struck with sadness. This is why. There are always sweets here, always. We seldom eat them. We still have candy purchased at Easter and Christmas here. There are cookies baked, and brownies came into the house yesterday. I am being harassed by chocolaty evil. All of a sudden I am desperate for these things, because I won't allow myself to have them. (I'm good at willpower as long as there's consequence and clear cut goals.) There are far too many calories in these things for me to indulge, at least this early in the game. I'm scared just one will send me back to the land of the forever fat. So, I go to the kitchen, open the Tupperware, salivate over cookies and brownies, then pick one up with stars in my eyes. I get so excited. Then I snap back into reality and call my son. I give it to him, disguised as a treat for a behavior he only half way did, and then watch him with longing. I've done this twice now. I am so ashamed, but in my defense he burns more calories than I do anyway. Later, I feel so awful I double up on his veggies. So we sit across from one another eating something raw and healthy with fake smiles on our faces. Actually judging from the little bit of chocolate in the corner of his mouth, he's smiling for real.

Why is it so hard?

I love my son. I love how cute and intelligent he is. I even love how manipulative he is. I love everything about him. BUT, there's always a but even with mother child/relationships, I get incredibly frustrated with the potty training regression!

Blaise can read as well as any kid entering first grade, hell probably better. He amazes me with words on a daily basis. He knows his numbers and can operate any electronic item known to man. He's a brain!

Blaise hates to potty. He has had a few pee-pee accidents, but nothing extreme. Now pooping is the devil though. I don't understand. For many months he pooped fine then decided it was too much work. He rather poop on himself than to poop in the potty. I have to watch for cues, make him get on the potty, threaten his life, and wait. It's nothing for him to go through 6 pair of undies in an evening with poop stains. It's nothing for me to take him off the potty, stress out that he did nothing, to have him poop on himself moments after we wash our hands. I'm fed up! I've done everything people say do. I've stood in the room. I've coached. I've encouraged. I've spanked. I've lost my mind. I've done everything and nothing works. Absolutely nothing has worked.

I am at the end of my rope! Will he just get it one day? We've been going though this for 6 months now. Why did he regress? Nothing tragic has ever happened in his life, and he lives a pretty great life. Why is it so hard?

Mother's Day...yeah sure it is

Mother's Day is beautiful in theory. I spent the day threatening my child in church, helping my mother move furniture, and helping to make it the best day for other people. Is this the curse of the young mom? Are we more daughters and granddaughters than mothers? I did have the opportunity to sneak away for a quick Happy Mother's Day to me pedicure, that my son later stepped on. I just wonder when I get to see the shift. When does the single mother, daughter, and granddaughter get to be appreciated on Mother's Day too? Really, when???

I know this sounds really self fish, but I do wonder when my time comes. I don't mind being a happy appreciative daughter and granddaughter, but I want someone to giddy over me too. Maybe I need a boyfriend or husband, hmmm...

My son runs cons.

So tonight Blaise came running into the room after breaking one of the many things he broke today. He was whinning, why I often refer to him as Whinner. He came running to me saying he was a bad boy. My heart was broken. I repeatedly told him he wasn't a bad boy. He's a very good boy that sometimes does bad things. So while we hugged and I felt like the world's worst mother ever, he tricked me into a promise of a scooter and a mini bag of Skittles, a Tootsie Roll Pop, and three plastic filled eggs from a Easter bag owed to someone else. With his guaranteed scooter and goodie bag, he climbed out of my lap and damn near skipped to his room. He got me!

Sleepy???

When I get tired I look forward to rest, relaxation, and just plain ordinary sleep. I love my sleep. I don't get near enough of it! I just think there's something euphoric about climbing in my nice warm bed, snuggling up to all the pillows, pulling the cover up to my neck, and closing my eyes. I stretch and wiggle until I'm in the perfect place. Then I talk to God, think over my day, preplan tomorrow, and drift off to beautiful sleep. I love that process!

Now my son on the other hand, doesn't go down without a fight. He hates bedtime. He refuses a nap. He doesn't believe in sleep. Rather than go to sleep he prefers a few tantrums, screaming at the top of his lungs, trying me to no end, and begging for food or drink. He doesn't really like sleep, to say the least. What?! Then to top this off, he can wake up like the sun shines through his eyes. He pops up with the most adorable "G'morning mama!" How does this work?


Back to me, I either jump out of bed like a crazy person because I heard a bump, or think I slept through the alarm, or I curse whoever interrupted my euphoria.


I have to get it together. I have to get him together. We need to get it together!!!

Blaise has a new school

So, Blaise is officially a day school student starting Monday. I'm very excited for him. He misses going to school and having fun with his school friends everyday. This is good. He's learning more and more everyday and needs some where to use this new knowledge. Mommy teaches and encourages, but it's different coming from a teacher in a school. So really I'm giddy about my little boy returning to educationville, but what am I gonna do with myself?

As much as I'm driven crazy, tired out, and sleep deprived, I'm used to being with him all day. I don't really know what to do with myself without my kid in tow. I'm nervous. I'm about to start a new job, looking at some major changes as far as my biz, and trying to make some lifestyle changes. I am not without something to do. It's just that it will really be without my son for many of the hours of the day. That kind of freaks me out! I'm going to miss Blaise all day. I'm really happy for him. I'm really excited about the fun and learning he's going to get each day, but I'm also a little sad and will be a little lonely.

Maybe it's time for Mommy to grow up?!

Mom to my son

Being a mom is exciting and fulfilling, and being a mom is exhausting and thankless. It's my greatest accomplishment. It's my biggest stress. It's what keeps me going when all of my energies are depleted. I love my responsibilities to my son. I made this choice. I consciously made and carried him. I sat through my 12 hours of labor, after 36 weeks and 2 days. I pushed him out myself, just after the epidural wore off. I did all of that. I got stitched up, wore hospital panties with ice packs in them, and battled hemorrhoids. I earned my title as mother. I would fight to the death for my son. I would walk through fire on glass and push a mountain out of his way with my bare hands. I am committed to the decision I made to have him. I love him.

My son is the biggest manipulator, con man, and charmer the world has ever seen. It's dangerous how he convinces us all to do things with such grace and ease. We are like mindless zombies marching to the beat he allows us. It's amazing. The dimples, the eyes with the long lashes, the pearly white smile, and his adorable one liners are enough to have you writing him checks for your life savings. He's smart. He's so incredibly smart, in more than just a con artist way. At 3 years old he's reading short stores, knows more than 50 words by sight, and can work all the electronics in this house, including my Blackberry. He's a great little decision maker, always goes with his first mind. He's also empathic, and at the end of the day he just wants to make sure that I'm happy.

I love being a mom. I love my son. I love our roles, and yes, I am exhausted, sleep deprived, and guzzling coffee!