Just when I think I'm a front runner for the Mother-of-the-Year award, one of my kids does something that makes me second guess my abilities.

So, I'm changing Thing Two's diaper and as I'm wiping off his butt, I notice sesame seeds in the poop. Hmmm, strange. I don't remember giving him anything to eat that had sesame seeds in it. I was still perplexed a couple of days later when I saw this open bag next to the hamster cage:

Lovely. Not only did my 22-month old ingest hamster treats, whose ingredients are measured in % of crude protein (ew), but they're also tiny and round (choking hazards) with a peanut (high allergy risk) center. Truly, he is one of those boys who you can't take your eyes off of for even a second.

I guess I should be thankful it didn't have red dye #40, high fructose corn syrup and glass shards in it. I think I'll still keep my name in the running for the award.

I've wondered how personal to get on my blog. I get a bit paranoid over who might stumble across it, what they might think, who may say what. I haven't quite put together my "new year's" resolutions, but when I get around to it, I may want to add "not giving a shit" to my list.

Since I haven't gotten too personal up to this point and I want to blog about my kids' first overnight trip to their dad and his girlfriend's place, I'll have to bring you up to speed in a couple of sentences... About 7 months ago, the ex, who was my husband at the time, decided to get a girlfriend. I found out about a month into it, went ballistic, begged him to work on it, unhealthily lost 20 lbs (that I didn't need to lose), acted like a pathetically desperate, insecure mess of a woman for a month while I begged him to end things with her and work on our marriage. All the while, he's still carrying on with texts, phone conversations, and nights spent at her place. Finally, my long lost self-respect kicked in and I asked him to leave. That was the point that the healing began and each week seemed to get better. Of course there were setbacks, like when he told me that he and the gf were expecting a baby together in April. Lovely. So, there's the no-frills recap, sans slobbery tears. I'm sure I sound awfully blase about it all now, but be assured I was the biggest, hurt mess of my life during that time and I cringe to even look back at myself during that time. I am so thankful to my parents who totally held me up and gave me the most beautiful support ever. Anyways, that's a bit more than a couple of sentences, and I'm going off on a tangent that I didn't plan on!

So.. On Friday, I got a text from ex, asking for the kids on Saturday. I was mildly annoyed at the last minute notice, but in true high-road fashion, I agreed and made the arrangements. He's taken them since the split during the day, but this was the first time that he took them to his place for a sleepover. It's not that I had worries about whether they'd be treated well or taken care of. I'm just used to having them myself. There is something about being a single mom. I won't say it's nice, because it's hard as hell, but it's all your way. I set the routine. I get Thing One ready for school, make meals, help with homework, give baths, read books, get ready for bed. All on my terms without interruption or static. And there's something very rewarding about going to bed at night feeling like you've done a good job juggling the kids, the job and the housework. That's not to say there isn't a lot I love about a "two-person life", but more on that in another post... Back to the topic of the sleepover, which was my original thought for this post, but has somehow now taken a back seat! You'd think that a single mom would be thankful for a night away from the kids on a weekend, and in a way it was nice. It just felt so strange thinking of them sleeping in a house I've never even seen the inside of. I couldn't picture them sleeping, which is something I always sneak in and watch them do before I go to bed. Besides that, there was some other woman (THE other woman) helping to get them into their jammies and making them breakfast. You know, mom stuff. With my kids. I wondered what they were talking about and if they were having more fun over there than they do with me. Is their place nicer than mine? Is she a better cook? Do they have better TV channels? I guess that's just how it goes. And I know the ex has the same feelings on the other side. Everyone I talk to says that these feelings and the tensions ease up as time passes. I sure hope so.

Because it's not cool to torment your 5-year old, I would never bombard Thing One with questions about the gf (even though I'm dying to), but you know kids and their mouths! She totally made my night last night with this exchange:

Thing One: "[insert gf name] burps a lot. every five minutes, she was like *burp*, excuse me. *burp*, excuse me."

Me: "hmmm, I wonder why that is?" (dying of laughter on the inside!!!)

Thing One: "maybe it's because she eats so much."

And just like that, the stress of their first overnight trip was dissolved! On the flip side of that, I wonder what she's saying about me!! GAWD!

As I'm making food for tonight's get together, I'm reflecting back to the last day of 2007, just a year ago. It totally seems like a lifetime ago! God, was I a mess...

I was in the throes of germophobic anxiety and was sitting at home with Thing One and Thing Two, trying desperately to avoid the rampant Norovirus. I stayed in my pajamas all day and Lysolled things that may have come into contact with the infected outside world (even though I hadn't left the house for nearly a week)! The thought of being totally alone at midnight was too much to bear, so I kept my then four-year-old up until the ball dropped so I'd have someone to kiss. Unfortunately, by midnight, she had already been dog tired for over two hours, was crabby beyond belief and refused to plant one on me! She was asleep by 12:02. What a way to ring in 2008!

I've never been much of a New Year's Eve party person, so this New Year's Eve I'm spending it just how I want to - laying low with close friends, playing some board and card games and being happy and comfortable. I'm glad to say that my germophobic tendencies have all but disappeared, and although I won't be licking any raw chicken in the near future, I intend to enter 2009 a more well-balanced, clear-headed, and content girl!

Cheers!

I've been MIA a little bit. There's been a lot going on in my life (as there is in everyone else's) and I've not taken the time to get on here. It's been a whirlwind in many different ways and here are some things I've taken out of the past few weeks - wisdom, if you will!

1. Worrying is a waste of time. Really. I've spent enough money in therapy trying to believe it, but it's finally beginning to sink in. There's just so much I can't control in my life that I'd rather spend my energy on the things I can make better.

2. People are inherently good. Go ahead, call me Polyanna. I believe that, even in light of what the past 6 months have brought me.

3. Word Twist on Facebook can get you out of just about any emotional funk under the sun.

4. There are times where you can't do anything but throw in the towel. Throw gently.

5. Fun is underrated.

6. Being nice gets you further. And you can feel good at the end of the day that you played fair.

7. Friends, old and new are not just nice to have around, they're as necessary as water and sunlight! Thank you to my understanding, supportive, unconditional friends!

8. Technology is cool. Bluetooths rock, even if I look like a yuppie! And... Santa should be bringing me an iTouch for Christmas since I've been really good! You reading, Santa??

9. I don't need any more striped shirts.

10. Raw eggs will prpbably not kill me. Especially when mixed with Gin in a Velvet Tango Room cocktail. The jury is still out on cookie dough.

I have to preface this entry by explaining that my brother is special-needs, or as we commonly (and maybe politically-incorrectly) refer to as "handicapped". It's been a part of our life and we're not overly sensitive to it. We love him to bits and accept him and sometimes use humour to cope the ignorance of others. For example, my parents were tempted to buy a shirt for him that they found in a store that read, "I'm the bad thing that happens to good people". I can just imagine the looks we'd get if we took him out in public in that shirt! Anyways, my brother has been a great tool in teaching my kids to be accepting and understanding of people's differences. I never really thought about how it was perceived by Thing Two until she came out with a slew of funny questions:

Last Summer:
Thing One: Are dolphins or Grady Sizemore handicapped?
Me: No. What do you mean?
Thing One: Well, Uncle Matthew is handicapped and he doesn't talk. Dolphins don't talk and neither does Grady Sizemore, so I thought they might be handicapped too.

Last Week as we're getting ready to go to my brother's birthday dinner:
Thing One: Is this going to be a handicapped birthday party or do we get to eat cake?
Me: No, we get cake. What's a handicapped birthday party like?
Thing One: One where you just eat applesauce and peanut butter*

*My brother is allergic to just about everything under the sun and his favorite snack is peanut butter and applesauce!

This was meant to just be a "from the mouth of Thing Two" post, but as I'm writing, I feel compelled to mention how much I love and appreciate my little family. My mom and dad are the best role models when it comes to giving selflessly. A lot of kids like my brother live in group homes because they require so much care, but my parents both work and share the responsibility of caring for Matthew like it's second nature. You never hear them complain or act like martyrs. He's their son and they do for him just like I do for mine. The difference with mine is that one day, they will grow up and leave home to start their own lives. My brother will always be like a child for my parents to care for, but they do it happily. I remember my mom once saying something along the lines of her being so thankful that Matt was born into our family, so he could get all the love he deserves. And I think that love has shaped him into the sweet and lovable little guy that he is. I wouldn't trade him for a million un-handicapped brothers!

I keep everything. I don't like to label myself a "packrat" because of the implied disorganization. I don't have everything cataloged, but I'm organized. I can tell you exactly where the kids' dried up bellybuttons are or where the empty first can of beer I ever drank is. Yes, I kept the kids bellybuttons, and the bandaids from their first shots, and my positive pregancy tests (nasty!) I also keep the usual things, like hospital bracelets, cards, concert ticket stubs, and crafts that Thing One makes. In my defense, I've actually met one other mom who kept her kids bellybuttons, so I don't feel too creepy.

I did NOT get this sappiness from my mom. She throws out everything. If I have any mementos left over from my childhood, it must be because my dad pulled them out of the trash! I had a beloved bear that I slept with every night when I was little. He was aptly, if not creatively named Mr. Bear. He was crocheted and full of stuffing. As I snuggled with him every night, the crochet sticthes stretched and the stuffing became dense and settled at the bear's feet, leaving the rest of the him all limpy. If I didn't mention it already, I loved, loved, loved that bear. One night when I was going to bed, I asked my mom to bring me Mr. Bear. Unfortunately, Mr. Bear had apparently bought the farm and was no longer with us. By this I mean she thre him away. To this day, when I razz my mom about it, she says, "well, it was falling apart." Well, yeah - because I loved the hell out of it!

I really owe my mom a nice post, because anyone who reads this is going to totally think she's horrible! She can't be judged on this one incident. Seriously, my mom is the best. She's sweet, loving and nurturing and one of my best friends - she just doesn't share my nostalgic tendancies!