“Your son cannot be the love of your life!”

The love of my life wearing my shoes.

I was told by someone I knew and once loved that my son could not and cannot be the love of my life. To tell people that Adam is the love of my life, the apple of my eye, my hero, is considered weird, unnatural, questionable. Why? He came from me. We bonded and were very close to each other before he was born. He kept me eating nonstop after all the nausea; kicked my ass during labor, too.

My love for my son is infinite. He’s my best friend and for a while I could tell him anything; tell him all my hopes and dreams – even told him when I was afraid of what he would think of his mom and that he could smell my fear of failure. He’d look up at me, smiling and cooing. He loves me for who I am and I, him. I live for him, he needs me and I need him, more than he’ll ever know.

He can drive an insane person crazy with his antics and all the things he can tear up and get into within 5 minutes but, I love him through it all. So why can’t my son be the love of my life? What’s so wrong with that? Who says that I can’t consider him as the only man I’ll ever love and would die for a million times over if I had to? No one comes before him…no one!

He stole my heart and when I looked at him for the first time, it was clear he stole my face, too. He’s my mini-me, my best friend, my only love, my sweetie. When he’s away from me – even if he’s in the next room napping or asleep for the night, I miss him. I stand over him and watch him sleep. I caress his hands and kiss his fat cheeks. I tell him I love him so very much and I’m happy that he’s in my life.

He’s the love of my life and anyone who feel uncomfortable with that, tough titty.

Update

Hello, all…

I, of course, have not been blogging, lately. For that, I apologize. There are so many things that has happened since the last blog I posted:

Adam is 20-months and still babbling…

The last I mentioned of this delay was before X-Mas. Well, it’s almost Easter and my son is still using the only words he knew then. So I’ve gotten in contact with CHSC – Cleveland Hearing & Speech Center to see if they can help me with his delayed speech. I’ve posted my concerns on Babble.com and the moms there gave me their advice on the matter. Some of them had sons who were just like mine and they waited and others got them evaluated. “It never hurts to be sure, so get him evaluated” one said, and so I made the appointment today and hopefully someone gets in contact with me, soon.

We are moving…

I’ve grown tied of Winton Manor and their horrible tenants. My neighbors are the epitome of the meaning “kids raising kids”. They keep my son up, they use foul language, they have more traffic than I-90 and the worst part is they wrestle and play around. All of this is happening around 1-3:00 in the morning because they slept all day. It’s like clockwork and I’ve grown sick of them and that MJM Management not doing anything about them. My son and I deserve better so for the time being, we’ll be staying with my grandmother until I can get myself together and find me another place. She’ll enjoy our company because most of the day she’s by herself. She loves her great-grandson.

I graduate in October…

Yep, in October, I’ll have my Associates of Arts Degree – majoring in Web Design. I’m proud of myself and hopefully, this will open up a lot of doors for me. I’ve since gotten job offers but had to turn them down due to my situation. There will be more in the future and better ones. I just hope I didn’t make a mistake turning down that last one; they were going to pay me $15.93 an hour just to fool around with websites.

Taking driving classes…

The classes cost $439.00 but in the end, it’ll be the best investment. I’m tired of waiting on someone to teach me how to drive, so I’m taking the initiative and doing things myself. The only issue, is coming up with the money. I’ll find a way. The classes are expensive yes but it covers 10 classes and they’ll pick me up and drive me off; plus a few other quirks. Again, best investment I’ve made so far.

Daycare again…

I’m thinking about sending my son back to daycare so he can flourish like he did before I took him out. He was really doing good and they taught him so much, even how to walk. They were nice, too. Asia‘s Little Angels will be the place I’ll go if I decide on taking him back to daycare. His friends and the people taking care of him probably miss him.

I guess that’s it for the update and I’ve made a promise that I’ll try and start blogging more again. I’ll see how that goes.

2012 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

600 people reached the top of Mt. Everest in 2012. This blog got about 2,900 views in 2012. If every person who reached the top of Mt. Everest viewed this blog, it would have taken 5 years to get that many views.

Click here to see the complete report.

 

A Letter to My 18-month-old Son

Hey sweetie,

You’re 18 months today and you are totally unaware of the evil that occurred, today. When I read that 20 children were slain today because of one person, all I could do was hold and kiss you. You got into so much today and you clocked me a few times with really solid and blunt objects (i.e. your toys) and all I could do was be grateful that you’re here with me. I listened to your laugh, your cries, your frustration; all of your emotions, today; it was music to my ears. The shooting that happened in Connecticut makes me want to shield you from the outside world. I want to keep you in my arms forever, but I know that I cannot.

It hurts to know that there are 20 children that won’t be here to open up their gifts this holiday. There are parents who will have to bury their little ones and say their goodbyes. I cannot begin to fathom the pain and anguish the parents are going through now, and I hope I never have to. When a parent lose a child, I don’t understand how they can live on from there. What pushes them forward? What gets them through the week? How can time ultimately make things easier for a parent who loses a child? I can’t seem to wrap my head around how strong they must be.

Adam, I tell you that I love you every day, at least 50-100 times. You are the center of my universe, the apple of my eye, my little sunshine. You’re my hero, you’ve saved me more than once and I thank you by showing you all the love I can give to you. I can’t picture my life without you in it and for that very same reason, I make sure I cherish every single moment I have with you; the good and the bad.

One day, I will no longer be here but by then you will be confident in knowing that I loved you more than life itself and would give my life protecting you.

I love you, sweetheart.

-Mom

Baby Daddy Drama: You Want to See Him Or You Can’t!

I’m black, if you haven’t noticed. We don’t exactly have good track records on who [we] lay down and have kids with. The guy usually ends up being a dead-beat once he finds out he may be the father. This is not one of those cases. I’m one of those who know exactly who I lay down and having unprotected intercourse with – or so I thought.

My son’s father is on a mission: a mission to piss me the hell off. We argue and disagree on the amount of time Adam Jr. gets to spend with Adam Sr. and it’s not much. He’ll say, “I can’t see him right now, I’m trying to get my life together and I can’t just bring him with me to my parents house because they may have things to do”. Well today, he get’s on Facebook and decides to blast me on my news feed. Saying that he had to “track me down” because I can’t send him a phone call. He knows his son is fine and he’ll know if he wasn’t. I can’t call anyone if my phone is lost and off. He’d be pissed if I used my ex-boyfriend’s phone to call him, right? Right.

That was some tracking down he did, I bet all it took was 2 minutes to log into Facebook and send me that asinine comment.

I’m getting sick of his excuses on why he cannot see his son. He works at the football stadium – 12-hour shifts and what kills me is he don’t work the entire week. The days he don’t work, he’s playing HALO 4 on his Xbox 360. Okay if he can play with people on a console in – I guess – a house that’s not his, he can see spend time with his son in the very same house, right? Right. I’m not the one being evasive here; I want him to spend time with his son.

The moment he get’s mad when things don’t go his way, he’ll make a statement by saying something he think will get under my skin. There’s only so many times he can mention Johnny, or Ced before it loses its effect. All of the times he think I’m avoiding his phone calls because he think I have company over, I’m usually asleep. I’m not avoiding his calls, I have a crappy phone with even crappier service and he’s constantly complaining about it but won’t buy me a new one.

For someone who can find a way to come and get my Turtle Beach headphones from me so he can talk to his friends on his Xbox 360 while playing Halo 4, he don’t have the same effort to come and see his son. I’m getting sick of his victimizing shit and the excuses – I’m fed up.

He wants to see him but he can’t. “I haven’t seen my son in a month (it hasn’t been no damn month) and I’m getting tired of having to track you down”. Wait, I thought you couldn’t see your son, I thought you had “to get your life together”? What happened to that? Are you having a bad day? Well, I don’t give a rat’s ass, you go ahead and have a bad day but leave me out of it. He needs to make up his mind before I make it up for him. He wants me to take him off Child Support but now that I think about it, why would I do that? He say’s he could pay me what they’re paying me but he’s not paying me a damn thing and they aren’t either. They can’t pay me if he’s not making squat! Even so, if he could pay me with whatever change he gets from working those 2 – maybe 3 days he actually show up, he wouldn’t pay me anyway. He got to “pay back his dad all the money he owe” and all the other people he borrowed money from.

What a load of shit I’ve gotten myself into…

Sh*t My Kid Ruined…

Nothing of note – yet, but, there have been some close calls…

Those close calls went straight out the window last month. This is the part – I guess – where it gets worse. Now that my son has gained coördination and a new-found life on his two feet, he’s a little tornado. He’s broken two mixing bowls, a bottle of my favorite syrup, a mug, he’s ripped my Game Informers (that I like to collect) in half, two of my video games and a bunch of other CDs. Sounds awful, right? Well, it may be just those things but, as I see it, this is the calm before the storm. The CD’s he ruined were OS CD’s and it’s hell getting those back.

What exactly can be “out of reach” for a 17-month-old who is 34-inches tall? By the time he’s 2, I’ll have to put all of my things in the closet and never open that closet again. I never seen a child grow so fast as he is; it has to be that damned milk he craves every waking moment. 

The good thing is that he doesn’t touch my rig (anymore – I’ll get to that later) or my laptop. Well, he’ll touch the laptop if it’s on and I’m using it. My Xbox 360 is no longer plugged in, so he’s lost his interest in that, and I put my Guitar Hero guitar away so he doesn’t get the urge to step all over it. I’m assuming the coins jammed in the CD disk tray and the crayons smashed in the hinges of the bedroom door, comes later, yes? Oh man I hope not!

I visited the site  ”Sh*t My Kids Ruined once and that was the last time I was on there; which was before my son was thought of. I laughed and shook my head in pity, all the while saying to myself, “That’ll never be me…” Au Contraire, Asilee it is you, and there will be more you in the coming years.

I don’t think I’m ready. I cannot begin to see what the future may hold with my little hell raiser. As I look around my apartment wondering what could he possibly destroy and I don’t see anything. Maybe I’m looking at the wrong things. I’m looking at gadgets and gizmos when I should looking at bags of flour, sugar and canned goods that can one day become airborne.

The close calls I mentioned? Yea, about those. Uh, I almost lost my second child (was once my only child but now he’s the step-child people awkwardly gawk at at family reunions). My son (the 34-inch tornado) was about to make history. He was going to go down in my history book as the first and only person I know that could destroy $800-$1000 worth of parts. The second-child I speak of is my beloved gaming rig/means of work and school. When he deliberately walked up to my desk with my glass of water I sat on my kitchen counter and poured it on my desk, my computer’s life and all the work and money I put in to it flashed before my eyes.

This cup of water at the time was supposedly out of his reach and out of mind. I get distracted for two-seconds (that’s all it takes – I’m a believer) for sugar to turn to shit. As the water trickled and eased its way closer and closer to the end of my Step-child, all I could think of was, “You jinxed yourself. That’s what your ass get for laughing at those poor parents on that website”. I cursed at Karma while it eased closer and closer to my rig and found its resting place on the top of my rig (shudders). I immediately (not proud of this but it was the closest thing near-by) grabbed my sons shirt and got it off of him in 2 seconds flat and sopped up all the water that I could. Nothing else mattered at that moment. Absolutely. Nothing. Mattered.

Luckily, everything turned out fine. The water didn’t touch anything important and my computer lived to see another day. After I cleaned up all the water, I turned and looked at my son who was now sitting on the floor playing with his cars and said, “My computer, my electronics – period, will survive your childhood”. He didn’t even look up at me, probably because I said it in my head.

The other close call was when he spilled another karma filled cup of water near my Xbox. It was less dramatic since I slightly don’t care about that thing. I know you’re probably thinking, “Where are all these cups of water spawning from?” well, I like to drink water to stay hydrated because I tend to not eat because of how busy and tiring my life is so the least I can do is stay hydrated.

Story of my life.

 

It’s Week 74 & My Son Isn’t Talking: Am I Overreacting?

He’ll be 17 months on the 14th and I’m a bit worried about my son’s speech development. Could he be a late bloomer and I’m over-reacting? He understands “No!”, “Can I have that?”, “Do you want some juice/milk?”, “Are you hungry?”, and “Come on, Adam.”, “Lay down, it’s time to go to sleep”. He says, “Ma-ma“, and “Bye-bye” but that’s it.

I talk to him like I’m talking to an adult; I mean, he is a little person. I don’t do the baby talk to him and I try to let family members know that they shouldn’t do it either. I read to him and sometimes if my confidence will allow, I sing to him.

My goofy, goofy son.

Dis regard the foot.

He crawled late, walked late, but in other aspects he flourished. He gave up the binky on his own, he was drinking from straws at 7 months as well as drinking from cups (even the non-sippy ones). He wouldn’t use the walker his great-great-great Aunt got him at all – he’d just sit there and look around the room. He hated that thing. He catches on pretty quick and sometimes, all it takes is one time and he’ll get it, I’m just concerned that maybe he’s a bit delayed. It didn’t help that his doctor put in my head that “according to the milestones for a child his age, he shouldn’t be as delayed as he is”. I’m all about those milestones and when a child is supposed to reach them. I often forget that the child will reach those milestones on their own and begin to overreact; I’m really hoping this is one of those times.

Could my concern for his speech be unwarranted? Should I wait until after he’s 18 months to see if anything changes? I understand children talk at different rates but doing Google searches has put me on the edge and now I’m totally worried from all the stories I’ve been reading about mothers who had late talkers. I did read that bigger baby boys tend to develop a bit slower than children that’s not in the 93 percentile (like my son is); they tend to do a lot of things a bit slower than their counterparts. That almost put me at ease considering all the milestones he didn’t hit until he was way past the target but it’s not enough.

I should be happy, right? He’s not talking my ear off and asking a million questions – telling me “no!” every time he exhale, but I want him to at least say more than the two words he’s saying now. Maybe I should just sit and wait until after Christmas, and see if he decides to “use his words” (I tell him this every day – jokingly) then and maybe I’ll calm down and worry about more pressing matters, like potty-training.

The Most Annoying Things My Son Does

Raising a child isn’t always buckets of sunshine and Skittles. There are times where they can drive you nuts! Here are the things that my son does that gets under my skin:

  1. He climbs. He doesn’t climb on furniture, he doesn’t climb trees, he doesn’t climb in the toilet or tub – he climbs me. Yep, he’ll climb on me and try to sit on my head – not fun.
  2. Headbutting. He has a sense of rhythm so when the mood suits him, I’m playing music and if he’s sitting in my lap facing me, he’ll headbutt me on beat of the song. I listen to a lot of rock music so…yea, it gets pretty annoying dodging a rock solid object aiming to make you cry.
  3. Hair pulling. The hair pulling annoys me the most because he’s a strong little thing and when he grabs on, he doesn’t let go. Usually, when he release the grip he has on my hair, there’s a hand full of my hair and I’m left wondering how I have any hair left.
  4. Everything belongs in the sink. My son puts everything he owns in the sink: his stuffed animals, his cars, his clothes, etc. It’s very annoying and there’s not much I can do about it but deal with it.
  5. What’s mine belongs to him but only when I’m using it. When I’m on the computer, if I’m on the phone, if I’m putting on my shoes even, if Adam feel that he wants to play with those things, he’s going to.
  6. “Hi, there! I’m your second shadow!” Yea, like I need another one of those. What’s with children standing directly behind you without making a sound, and then when you go and turn around you have to pretty much turn into  an Olympic gymnast to jump over them or around them. My son does that and he’ll jump in your path as you’re walking just to make your heart skip a beat. Totally uncool.
  7. “I jut ate. I’m so full I look pregnant but what you’re eating looks good too. I want it!” When it’s time for mommy to eat after feeding her son to the point where he should explode from all of what was shoved down his gullet, she can’t because her son is obviously still hungry. Anyway, when it’s time for mommy to eat, she has to put enough on her plate for two as if she’s pregnant again. Asilee cannot have her food and enjoy it, she has to feed the black hole that is her son. I can’t help but ask him, “Where does it all go?” then follow-up by saying, “Don’t answer that”.
  8. “I’ll just use your arm to direct you to what I want, thanks” I don’t know if it’s just my son that does this but I’ve never heard of this before I had kids. My son, my very smart and mischievous son will grab me by the wrist and pull on it to direct it to what he wants if it’s out of reach. When it’s out of reach, that means he’s not supposed to have it. So, he thinks, if he uses my arm to get it, then he can have it. WRONG!
  9. The get down just to get back up game. My son love sitting on my lap but he’ll get down and in that .5 second it took him to get down he’ll scream for me to pick him back up. This goes on for as long as I allow it, which isn’t long.
  10. The crib escapee. I mind as well break down his crib into a toddler bed – hell, I mind as well pack it up because this look rascal will climb out of his crib and climb in the bed with me. He’s either out of the crib and in my bed or in the living room asleep on the floor. That’s not the annoying part, though. His version of a wake-up call is to sit on my face with an almost bursting wet diaper. Why have Folgers when you wake up?
  11. “Your pain brings me joy, mommy…” My son finds the toys that hurt the most to throw at me. When I tell him, “no, you don’t do that!” He get’s all wide-eyed as if he’s about to cry, but he doesn’t cry, he laughs. If I believed in heaven or hell, I’d be convinced my son was Satan.
  12. My son the goofball. This is more funny than annoying. He has this thing where he makes faces at the camera, now instead of doing something cute or doing what other children do and just continue to do what they were doing and ignore the camera. He will stop whatever he was doing and make a face at the camera. “I’ll teach you! No more cute pictures will be taken of me…. dammit!”

My Son is A Milk Addict

Don't let that beautiful smile fool you. There's evil under those lids. Lol.

This was September 7th (my birthday) after we came home from the zoo. He had a great time, and so did I.

Yep, he is. He had the worst kind of tantrum, today. It was the, out in public, on a crowded bus kind. If he wasn’t strapped in his stroller, he would have kicked everyone’s ass on that bus. I had just picked him up from daycare and he was fine until we got to the bus stop. I was thinking, “maybe he’s just a bit tired”. He was falling out and whining, kicking and waving his arms. When the bus came, I thought, maybe he was going to calm down because we were in motion and not standing still. Boy was I wrong, it only got worse. The bus was crowded and I should have waited on the next one but I was tired and all I wanted to do was to go home and rest. So, we’re on the bus and for the next 10 seconds, everything was ok – or so I thought. He cried, he kicked, he screamed, he tried to fall out but he was strapped in the upright position, so it had no effect.

If you couldn’t see where the noise was coming from, you would think he was either possessed or someone was torturing him. His screaming could have peeled the paint off a wall. This was the longest bus ride ever! The screaming and hollering continued for a while and then he decided to pull on people’s sleeves. He was screaming, and reaching for things to grab since he couldn’t grab the person he was mad at. I couldn’t understand what was wrong with my usually happy boy.

Then, it hit me: he wanted some milk. I got off at the next stop and found a convenience store and bought him some milk. Poured it in his sippy cup right in the front of the store. He grabbed that cup and he looked up at me with so much satisfaction and with a “it’s a bout damn time you figured it out!” look on his face…

All over some damn milk! Really?! He had a nervous breakdown over some …some milk?! I thought there was a toothache or crankiness, but milk?! He nearly ripped a poor woman’s arm off because he wanted some milk.

Oh, did I tell you the part where he was trying to take one of his shoes off to throw at me or whomever? No? Okay, well after he stopped grabbing people he decided to go a step further and take one of his shoes off and toss it at someone with so much fierce and anger, I’m sure who ever it would have it, would have been upset. I was so embarrassed, but at the same time, I did not care because there was nothing I could do. The only option was to spare the people on the bus any more glass breaking cries by getting off the bus and find him some milk and then walk the rest of the way home.

After he consumed all of his precious milk, he was happy, bubbly, a joy to be around. Everything was peachy-keen.

Lesson of the day: Never, ever leave daycare without a fresh cup of milk in a sippy cup or there will be pain.

So yea, my son is a milk addict and I think he needs intervention or something. I think I need to call up A&E and see if they do specials on toddlers.

Maybe I’m Undeserving…

My son is awesome, he’s great, he’s the apple …of my eye. On the other hand, he can drive me nuts, and he runs me ragged. I would pull my hair out if he wasn’t already doing it himself. Between school, work and other responsibilities, I find myself  tired more and more these days. I don’t exactly have a support system. My ex-husband tells me every weekend that he’ll come and get the baby for the weekend and he never does. He either have excuses or he changes his mind. I don’t want to complain but this mom is worn out. There’s absolutely no one that I can let my son spend time with so I can get 5 minutes to myself. Maybe I want to pamper myself, or sit and read? Am I undeserving of those comforts now? I know those kinds of things stop when you have children but I shouldn’t have to wait till my son goes to sleep to start on school work or have time to myself. I should be able to do these things during daylight hours.

I was so looking forward to having a little time to myself this weekend; I had my hopes up for nothing. I now – when I think about it — notices a pattern; he’ll (ex-husband)disappear from planet earth from Friday to Sunday evening. That night, he’ll text me saying why he couldn’t spend time with his son; why I couldn’t have 2 measly days to myself.

This is my schedule from Monday to Thursday:

  1. Get ready for work.
  2. Take baby to daycare.
  3. Go to work.
  4. Finish work for the day.
  5. Pick up son.
  6. Go home.
  7. Feed son.
  8. Entertain son until that night.
  9. Start on school work.
  10. Go to bed.

Fun, right? Not! Don’t get me wrong, my life could be worse but even still, am I that undeserving of a little me time? I’m afraid of what’s going to happen to my mental state after awhile. I may tune out my hopes of having such privileges and start thinking like a machine; I feel like one.

I’m simply, getting sick of the run around with my son’s father. Then when I get on him about what he says he’ll do, I’m the one that has to “relax” or be patient”? Really? I’ve been patient. I’m taking care of my son with no support from him whatsoever! It’s like I don’t have a right to be pissed, to be tired.

Well, I need to cut this short and get in the bed and get as much sleep as I can before my son wakes up at 3 and then at 5 wanting to play.

A Tuesday To Remember: A Single Mother’s Strength Put To The Test

I would have posted this yesterday, but my everything was put on hold the moment I felt the worst pain anyone can feel in their face. Just a warning, this is a long read.

Yesterday, I started my job at the Federal building, I was very excited to start and couldn’t wait to meet my co-workers. I woke up on the right side of the bed and everything was going fine until I got my son on the bus. We made it to our stop and passed our stop, so I had to get off the bus and walk back to where I should have gotten off and take him to daycare. I get to the daycare and everyone is running around like chickens with their heads cut off. There was a gas leak and the kids needed to be transported to another facility until everything was fixed. I signed him in and they told me he would be at such and such place and they will bring him back to the daycare when I’m on my way to come and pick him up after work. I say my goodbyes and kissed my sweetheart and left to head to work. The bus was 10-15 minutes late so I ended up late for work by 30 minutes; oh, did I tell you that I sprang my ankle rushing to get to work? Oh, yea I did. Anyway, I arrived at work and I get the tour and meet everyone (everyone is so nice and I absolutely love it!), I got work supplies, a laptop and nice chair for my cubicle that I’ll be sitting in for now until whenever. Those items though weren’t available until the following day so I ended up sitting at my empty cubicle playing Tetris on my phone. Time flew by and it was time for me to pick up my lovely, handsome son from daycare. I called and told the nice lady who takes care of my son that I’m about to be off soon and she told me that I would have to go get him all the way on Kinsman.

After I finish my phone call with her, getting directions and things like that. I get my coat, say goodbye to all the nice and lovely people at my job and I leave. I stopped by a CVS to grab my sweetie something to eat and drink because he’s my sweetie and I love him. Um, I get to the counter and then at that moment, I just knew the universe was out to make my day a shitty one. There was no money on my card, embarrassed  I apologize to the clerk and leave CVS and head home to change out of my work clothes. The bus came on time, it wasn’t crowded and I was able to find the church without incident. When I got there and I seen his fat little face, I didn’t realize how much I missed him and I picked him up and covered him in kisses. The nice lady then says, we forgot your child’s stroller at the daycare. My day hasn’t been so great so far but I’m thinking, “Well, that’s OK  we’ve walked to the daycare from the bus stop before, no problem”; for some reason, I was in good mood, don’t know why. So me and sweetie we are on kinsman about to cross the street when the bus comes and I wave it down and it goes right by so we walk. We walked and walked and walked. The place was on 90th and Kinsman we were now on 79th and Kinsman. I needed to go to my grandma-ma-ma’s (don’t laugh, that’s what I call her now) because she wanted to see “munchkin”. So I check on my phone to see when the next bus that runs up and down 79th will be coming; it was 1:24 pm, the next one don’t come until 2:27. I said, “Oh hell no! I’m not about to be standing here for no hour and 2 minutes waiting on no damn bus!” Sweetie as well as the people driving by looked at me like I was some crazy drunk woman with a smart phone. I was pissed. Okay, for those who do not know about Cleveland, at all. This walk me and sweetie took is one I will never take without a stroller ever again. These blocks are long as hell and let’s just say we walked all the way from Kinsman to Woodland (Google it). My son was fine, he got upset when I wouldn’t stop so he could drink from his sippy cup. I, on the other hand couldn’t remember the last time I walked that far before I had him. After a bunch of stops, carrying him half of the way and letting sweetie grab at every weed possible on the way – mind you, this baby is 30 pounds – the sun was out, it got warm and luckily I only had on a sweater or I would have been pissed to have to carry him, and my winter coat. Anyway, we made it to E 79th and Woodland and we sat at the bus stop. We were 5 minutes shy of when the bus would have made it to 79th and Kinsman at 2:27.

When the bus came I got him in the seat, he was tired and thirsty, I was tired and hungry; as well as pissed. We make it to our stop and walk to grandma-ma-ma’s and she’s so happy to see her great-grandson. My mom was there, too and she was happy as well. I sat there and rested for at least an hour. I fed my sweetie green beans, potatoes, and cornbread – which he loved. My mom made me the best hamburger in the world (I don’t know if I was hungry or it was really good) I pretty much scarfed the entire hamburger and washed it all down with some of the best kool-aid I’ve ever tasted.

Our bellies are full and I’m in better spirits considering. I decided it was time to head home for the day. I saw when the next bus to home was coming and we waited and then when it came we got on the bus. Sweetie fell asleep before we got downtown and I wanted so badly to switch places because I was so tired. We made it into the apartment and I lay him down and put him to sleep and everything was going fine until 9:30 at night. Here comes the good part…

The good part…

Around 9:30 pm, I encountered the most painful toothache one could have. The entire right side of my face felt like it was punched by Sagat from Street Fighter. My teeth felt like they were hooked up to a car battery and someone was revving the god-damned engine. I called up Ced (my good friend) to see if he was home so I wouldn’t have to take the baby with me to the emergency room – he wasn’t. He gone say, “Why do you wait till I’m not at  home to die?” I wanted to kill him in that very moment. He told me to call an EMT, I really didn’t want to go but this pain felt like Thor was in my mouth playing a game of golf with my teeth. By 10:30, I was in tears. There was no one I could call to take me to the emergency room. I was not about to call 911 just for a toothache; someone with a much more serious problem needs that EMT. I crawled around crying and getting dressed. I proceeded to get sweetie together as well as his diaper bag. He may not have understood me but I was apologizing to him because he was sleeping soundly and peacefully. He was probably damning me to whatever evil place he know of. I couldn’t blame his questionable looks and evil stares he was giving me when I was getting him dressed.

Now it’s 10:50 pm, and we are walking up 9th to catch a bus to University Hospital. Well, the pain got so great on the bus I thought I was going to blackout. The bus driver was driving slow and stopping and sitting at every other bus stop because he was early and didn’t want the other buses to be off schedule. I wanted to scream at this evil person who is obviously out to get me that’s driving the bus to screw the other bus drivers. My teeth were playing WWF with each other one side of my face, causing my entire right side of my face to feel like a laid my face down on an electrical current for kicks. After an excruciating 30 minutes, me and the sleeping baby finally made it to the hospital. I’m relived and my hopes were up, I’m like, “Yes! I’m here, my arms are tired, my legs feel like shit  my face feels like death, but I’m here”. I get up to that damn evil counter and tell that evil woman that I’m in excruciating pain and you know what that evil woman told me? “Uh, well, there is a 6-hour wait to be seen by someone.” I looked at her like she just killed my only child. I was so mad and in so much pain I cried all the way back to the bus stop and sat there with my sleeping child in tears. 5-minutes later a bus come up the street. I was glad that it was coming so quickly and thought maybe the universe had decided to pick on someone else for a while. I was wrong. That bus said at the top “NOT IN SERVICE”. I sat down and cried some more. It wasn’t until 30 minutes or so later when a bus came strolling up the street. I called my grandmother and told her that I just came from the emergency room and they had the nerve – the audacity to be out of rooms and that I would have to wait to wait 6 damn hours. I bluntly asked did she have any drugs — she did. I get to 79th and Euclid, walked up the street, got to granny’s and she gave me an oxy.

Just for the hell of it, that pain went out fighting. It took 15 minutes for that pill to actually give me some relief. Then when it really kicked in I was so damn happy I could have started dancing. Before that, I was crying, I woke up half the house screaming and moaning.

The baby knew something was wrong because he wouldn’t leave my side and he kept putting his hand on mine and looking at me with sad eyes. All I could do was apologize to him, I felt so badly that I had him out that late because of my pains. That is a pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I would have gladly traded labor pains for the kind of pain that was running through the right side of my face. All I have to say is that I need to be more grateful for things because there are people in pain and there’s nothing that can get rid of it. The fact that I have the privilege to be able to get rid of mine shouldn’t be taken for granted.

I have a dentist appointment next Tuesday. I really…REALLY hope I can make it to Tuesday. That pill I took last night is still working but not as good as it was when I first took it. The pain is there and it’s giving me a very, very mild headache but anything is better than what I went through yesterday. There may not be much food in the house for the baby and me (I could go without – like I’ve been doing) but if I’m not 100% capable to take care of myself, how can I take care of my son?

Just a Note…

Hey sweetie,

Yea, I know, I know, it’s been a minute since I’ve blogged here. It’s just that we’ve been so busy and I’ve been so wiped out after I finish my papers for class, feeding and playing with you. Anyway, I was sitting here looking at your delivery room pictures wondering where has time gone. You’re so big now and in a few months – maybe sooner, you’ll be speaking your first words for me to catch on video. I’m going to look up and you’re going to be in first grade and I’ll be working my butt off making sure you have everything for school. Time is moving too fast, I wish it would slow down. About the pictures, it just doesn’t seem real – how fast time is going and how big you’re getting. You weigh 30lbs and you’re 33″ tall, how great is that?

When I was looking at the pictures, I was trying to remember the life before you were in it and I can’t. It feels like you’ve always been here with me – since day one; well, not since day one but you get it. I’m trying to get all my hugs and kisses in, tell you I love you hundreds of times a day, and spend as much time with you I can before it’s all said and done. You’re the apple of my eye and I love you so much sweetheart. You drive me crazy on a daily basis but I wouldn’t change that for anything.

Dealing With My Son’s Tantrums

My son is the size of a two year old – with the strength of an ox. It seems my son’s tantrums are getting worse as he age. He kicks, he screams, he throws his head around like a wrecking ball, he rolls around on the floor, he cries big old crocodile tears, and screams on the top of his lungs. It doesn’t matter where we are, if he doesn’t get his way, he’ll throw one faster than you can say “no”. I used to call him Quick-Draw McGraw because of how fast he throws tantrums over the the smallest things.  He’s the fastest in the West – and the East.

When he throws one of his famous tantrums, I just sit him down and look at him. If I need to finish cooking, I just walk away and let him have it. There’s nothing I can do to stop the tantrums because I’m stubborn. If I mean no, that’s exactly what I mean. So if he can’t have something, he’s not going to get it. I put my foot down and he hates it. He doesn’t realize yet that I’m very patient and when it comes to kids throwing tantrums in public, I can’t be embarrassed; and I don’t apologize to bystanders. You can’t control a mad baby because they can’t control their emotions. Getting him to calm down in the past has resulted in a black eye, a busted lip, and loose teeth. I learned my lesson after the loose teeth. Wrangling a child the size of a 2-year-old is not wise when they are as strong as a bull. It’s best to put them on the floor and let them have it.

We’ve been in doctor’s offices where he was plotting to rip up all the magazines on the coffee table. I saw his plan in motion and I nipped in the bud. He was thoroughly upset and people watched, and so did I. He realized that his tantrum wasn’t getting the desired results, so he quit. He eye-balled the magazines and I eye-balled him. He’d look at me once in a while to see if I’m looking at him and yea, I’d be staring him down and he just act like the magazines don’t exist. He’ll play with the toys, but not after he gets my smile of approval, though. For some reason, he needs confirmation because in his little head, I’m the wicked witch of the west and I’m the one who tells him what he can play with and when.

I don’t stress myself over his tantrums because we both know they won’t last long and I’ll wait till he’s done.

If this is what I’m going to have to deal with until he’s about 10 I guess, then, someone is in for quite a few rude awakenings and I’m not sure who, yet.

Raising My Son In A Household Without Religion

My family says, “Everybody needs to believe in a higher power”. Well, I don’t; neither does my ex-husband. I’m a true and strong believer of allowing people to form and make their own decisions in life. I wasn’t allowed that luxury as a child growing up. I either had to believe or get my ass kicked. That’s just the way it was. Getting forced to go to church is not cool at all. I’m not going to do that to my son with my Atheism; neither should his father.

I will tell him about religion - when he’s old enough and let him choose what he wants to do with it. I won’t be pressed either way. I’m living my life so I’m going to let him live his. To force my non-beliefs on him would be just as bad as his grandparents from his father’s side, forcing their beliefs on their son. I’m better than that and I will not live my life through my son.

That begs the question: Will he know about Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny? What about leprechaun’s? He will know about those things and I will tell him about them. I will let him have his imagination and let him be a child. The only thing that I will though is give him the story of Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny from a book; a storybook for children. I refuse to sit on the side of his bed and tell him that Santa is bringing him gifts when I know full well I’m the one wrapping and putting his gifts under the tree. That credit goes to me, not some  imaginary old fart with his flying reindeer.

I simply believe that there are things children should know and there are things that should wait until they’re old enough to get the concept. If he want to believe in a deity then so be it but I want it to be his choice, not mine. I won’t love him or see him any differently. He will always be my sweetie; forever and ever. Unless he goes out and murder someone then that’s a different story.

You’re born with love, religion is taught.

To say I need some “god” in the sky to be a sane, good decision-making, moral being is absurd. I know I do not need religion to raise my son. There will be holidays celebrated because it wouldn’t be fair to him if they weren’t. I don’t celebrate holidays but that was before I had a son. As a child, he’s not going to give a damn about the origins of it — hell – most adults don’t care or even know. Why would I complicate a holiday for someone who only care about the presents and food like most adults?

This mess about the Tooth Fairy? He will know of no such thing. I’m sure this blog will have some women ready to call CPS on me (because that’s how dramatic some of you mothers are) because I’m not going to tell him about the tooth fairy. I’m going to tell him to hand me his tooth and I’ll give him 5 bucks or whatever. I’m cutting out the middle-man. There will be much more room for superman dreams and fighter pilot imaginations.

“You’re ruining his childhood!” Oh please! Try living my childhood and you’d sing a different tune. I didn’t have a childhood. I didn’t get to experience a lot of things in life as a kid. I was a teenager when I first learned how to ride a bike, go to a park, go shopping, get a hug and for someone to tell me they loved me. What’s so screwed up about that, my family wasn’t the ones who allowed me to experience those things.

I will teach my son about equality, love, respect, and compassion. Things that actually matter, things that will help him in life. If that makes me a bad parent, then, I’ll be that.

I Almost Had to Hurt Someone Today

Just another day riding the RTA.

There are loons everywhere; even those that roam around among the general pop. Let me tell you about this one crazy loon on the bus. I got on the bus and put my son in the designated area for people with strollers. There’s this woman with her toddler and 3 month old son talking on the phone (very loudly may I add) in the seats across from me. The row in front of her is the crazy loon. She hopped and hopped from seat to seat on the bus; eyeing me like crazy loons do. She didn’t say anything to me, just smiled at the baby and gave me the evil eye. Anyway, the woman that’s talking loudly on the phone, using every curse word known to mankind. Wait, let me just get this out the way, I’m looking all around because I observe my surroundings. So I’m listening to everybody’s conversations, movements, sneezes, coughs, EVERYTHING…Moving on…

I guess the crazy loon thought the loud woman was talking about her on the phone with whomever because she got loud. She got loud right as the bus was rolling into the last stop downtown. She called this woman so many things in so little words, then threatened to beat up because she ‘wasn’t the one’. Now, a sane person would at least notice the phone up to someone’s ear. Then they would realize that they’re obviously talking to someone on the phone. Why this crazy loon thought the loud woman was talking to her, I don’t have the foggiest, but she was pissed.

The part where I wanted to kick some sense into her ass is now. She got up and pushed the stroller with the 3-month-old baby in it; really hard. My jaw dropped and I immediately had this knee-jerk reaction to slap the taste out of this crazy bitch’s mouth. My son was with me and the cops were close-by. She got lucky. Luckily, the woman and the police tracked her down and I hope she pressed charges.

I never been so disgusted with another human being since my ex Markiss. I so wished I hadn’t picked up my son from daycare so early and I was on that bus by myself with her. My anger is because of the lack of disregard for an innocent life. I cannot even explain how angry I got and how fast I stood up to swing at her.

What even disgusted me more is people let her get all the way into a building instead of holding her ass so the mother and the police, didn’t have to track her down. They watched this whole debacle go down and it seemed like the victim and I were the only ones pissed; liked they see crazy loons every single day on the RTA.

I just want 5 minutes alone with her so I can show her who the real loon is. Wait, scratch that.