Potty Mouth


Happy Sunday! Two blog posts, back to back! I am on a roll 😉

We are 6 months into 2015 and so far this year there have been 3 falls in my house that have involved damage to the mouth/teeth. It’s been a bloody mess (literally). For someone like me who happens to have a fear of teeth (being broken or falling out), it has been rather stressful.

I would never be able to be a Nurse. I don’t respond well to emergencies or blood. But I always hoped that during one of these episodes, I would become a bigger person with superpower strength and control. Instead, I curse. And I cry.

The first incident was back in January. Camryn fell in the bathtub- right in front of my face. It happened so fast. I will never forget the sound of his face hitting the side of the tub. I started screaming like a madwoman, which probably freaked him out even more because he started screeching. I checked him over and couldn’t see where he had hurt himself. Until he opened his mouth and it was full of blood. By this time, my hubby had come running in and grabbed Camryn from me to examine him. I continued to curse like a sailor. I have never said the ‘F’ words so many times consecutively in my life. I was a mess. I was in panic mode. When Jarrett told me he chipped his tooth, I wanted to vomit.

After an early morning trip to the dentist, he was fine, the tooth was fine. He just now has a jagged edge on his front tooth. It gives him character. It is also a daily reminder to me that I hate bath time.

The second fall happened a month ago. I wasn’t actually in the room. The fall happened on my hubby’s watch, which I secretly liked seeing as he learned first-hand how fast things happen, right in front of your eyes. Aiden runs around the house all the time. It had never bothered me. It never made me nervous. The funny thing is, he hadn’t been running laps when he fell. He got off the couch and asked his Daddy to play hide and seek with him and slipped on the living room rug, face planting on the hard wood floor.

I heard Aiden crying hysterically and came running. I knew something happened, this wasn’t a ‘Camryn stole my toy’ cry. Sure enough, blood everywhere. This time, I surprised myself. I took him from my hubby’s arms and I reassured him that everything was alright. All the while my hubby was the one cursing, freaking out that Aiden was going to lose his tooth. Let’s not jump to conclusions, I said. Sure enough, his gums were severely discolored, bleeding and his front tooth was loose. *Insert the infamous F word here*. I felt the panic creeping in but wanted to stay in control. I washed his mouth and managed to calm him down a little bit. Next thing I know, I passed out.

Yup. There you have it. I saw stars, grew weak and felt my legs go out from underneath me. Good thing my hubby was there to catch me. Aiden started crying again, this time saying “Mommy, tell me what’s wrong! Are you okay?” I guess my pale face, sweat soaken skin and inability to stand freaked him out. Not my proudest moment. I was supposed to be taking care of him!! Not having him worry about me! But I attribute my weakness to my lack of sleep, the fact I hadn’t eaten in hours and the stress of the moment, as well as my fear of teeth. I’d like to think that is what it was. I don’t want to think that when my kids get hurt all I do is curse and faint 😉

Aiden had dental surgery and was put to sleep. This was another level of stress, but didn’t involve curse words. I can’t say the same about tears. When I signed the consent form, granting my permission for the dentist to take his tooth if it was damaged, I may have bit my lip to keep the tears at bay. That didn’t happen but we are not out of the woods. Aiden did damage his root so he may lose the tooth. It is already started to discolor.

Episode 3 happened just yesterday. Camryn was playing on his ride on toy car. I wasn’t in the room. I hear a thump, then a shriek. I go running and he’s on his hands on knees. He looks up at me crying and low and behold, a mouth full of blood. I started yelling (yes, curse words). I realize this probably made him even more scared but I curse when I panic, shoot me!! There was so much blood and I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from! Lucky for me, his teeth seemed fine, but his top lip, not so much. What a mess!! One side was split (not stitch worthy split) and the other side was fat. Instantly, 3 times its regular size. While it is no longer as swollen as it was, it is purple. It looks like someone painted the underside of his lip with paint. But otherwise he is fine. Eating, drinking and smiling fine. Within 2 minutes, he had stopped crying and was dancing to Uptown Funk. I took a minute and had a cry too, while calling my hubby in hysterics.

I want to keep my kids in bubbles so they don’t hurt. So they keep all their teeth and don’t break anything. I can’t handle the stress. Not without curse words anyways. At least I didn’t pass out this time, so that’s noteworthy I guess!

I know there will be more bumps, bruises and falls. I doubt I will ever get used to it even though there is nothing I can do about it. But one thing I can do something about is my stress induced potty mouth. I should work on that 😉

Hugs & Smiles,


Chocolate chips


Happy Saturday!

Wow, long time no write! I have been busy (freelance) writing, just not blogging. My apologies, I am sure you all missed me 😉

So last week Aiden turned 4. I could go all sentimental about how I can’t believe how fast time goes by, wasn’t he just a baby yesterday?? But I will save that shit for Facebook. This is the truth and the truth is I now believe Aiden cloned himself, and that one of him is sweet and the other one is, for lack of a better word, an ass.

My son (yeah yeah, like everyone else’s) is sweet, caring and smart. Sometimes I get overwhelmed with how sweet he is. He can be so gentle and he is so caring beyond his years. He will jump up from the table when playing just to kiss my cheek and tell me he loves me. Even if I pretend cry (for whatever reason), he is at my side making sure that my cry is fake and that mommy is in fact, okay. I find myself saying “Awwww……” and then wondering how in the world I am responsible for creating such a sweet little boy. He really is a good boy.

Then, like a switch, he changes. He is no longer gentle or sweet. He is yelling at me or giving me attitude or threatening to take away my iPhone! Ha! Listen up kiddo, I am the parent and YOU are the child. And if you want to keep your fingers, back away from the phone. It just blows my mind how he changes in a split second. I never know what will set him off. A cut apple. Changing the channel. Me getting his straw instead of him getting it himself. All I know is, 4 is going to be fun. 4 is going to be a freakin’ blast. 4 is going to turn me grey.

For example, two days ago, 6:48am he said something SO incredibly sweet, I swear it sounded scripted. Fast forward to 7:03am and he was having a screaming fit (you know the ones with boogers and spit everywhere, not just on his face). I was at a loss for words, standing in the kitchen staring out the window wondering what in the world just happened! I was confused. I needed coffee (some would argue alcohol but it was only 7am) but seeing as I don’t drink coffee, naturally I started eating chocolate chips.

I find myself losing patience and yelling. Then I feel bad so I apologize, and he apologizes and we hug and he promises to never behave like an ass again (my words, not his). HA! Two hours later we are full circle. Repeat cycle.

I was reading something on a Mommy blog recently and someone posed a question “What does your child do that drives you nuts?” There were over 500 responses and some of them were hilarious and some of them I could relate to, others I couldn’t (not yet), but nonetheless, reading them made me feel better. Why? Because it reassured me that it is okay that your child gets on your nerves. It reminded me that I am not the only one who feels the way I do. I am not alone.

Of course there was that one parent who had to say “What’s the point of this? Our children are blessings”. I didn’t respond because someone beat me to the punch. No one is arguing that. Our children are our blessings. But that doesn’t mean they can’t/don’t/won’t drive us nuts!!! They do things that get under our skin, just like they do things that warm our hearts. They are human, albeit little ones, but they are not perfect. We can’t expect them to be.

I can’t expect Aiden to be 100% sweet and gentle and pleasant all of the time. That is not realistic. I will try to remember that when he is screaming at me behind a closed door during a time out. Because no doubt, there will be more episodes like that. And when there are, I’ll be waiting with open arms for that hug I always get when it’s over.

Then I’ll brace myself for the next episode and fill my pockets with chocolate chips while I’m waiting.

Hugs & Smiles,


We are all working mothers. Some of us just work at home.


Happy Saturday!

I have been seeing and reading a lot of blogs lately about stay at home mothers versus working mothers. Not to imply that stay at home mothers don’t work, mind you. Because I am one (a SAHM) and although I don’t collect a pay cheque for caring for my kids, I work damn hard. Just as hard as any mother who works outside the home I am sure. Just in a different way.

I am so sick of mothers being pinned against one another- which mom is better, the stay at home mom or the working one? We are all moms. We all do what is best for our kids. That is what makes us supermoms. Not what we do for a living or how much money we bring home.

Being a stay at home mother does not mean I, or any other SAHM, love my kids more than a parent who works outside the house. That is just absurd. No one should be made to feel guilty for working, just like stay at home mothers shouldn’t be judged or made to feel ashamed or be asked ‘what do you do all day?” Seriously? Well, I can’t speak for anyone else but I tend to start my day at 11am (I let my kids fend for themselves until then) and then I sit on my ass all day and do, well, nothing. Sometimes I paint my nails too. HA! The reality is, my day is all kinds of hard. Even if sometimes it is fun, silly, and crazy. It is also hard, long, messy and almost always involves tears, tantrums and attitude. This job is mentally, physically, emotionally draining. It has its rewards no doubt, but it’s hard.

I have been both- a working mother and a stay at home mom. There are pros and cons to each. As a working mother (when I only had Aiden), I hated dropping him off at the sitter’s house every morning and him screeching for me not to leave. It was the worst way to start my day. I also hated missing out on special moments. I hated when he was sick because I wanted him to be with no one else but me, even if it was just a runny nose. It also posed a huge problem because it meant either myself or my hubby had to take time off work to care for him. I hated that I had to place so much trust in someone else to care for my child and just hope that she was doing things the way I would want. I loved going to work and feeling like Sonya, not mommy. I loved adult interaction. I loved having a life outside of my house. I loved not having to worry about nap times and bum changes for 9 hours out of a day. I loved feeling like I accomplished something and got paid for it. I loved going to pick up my son after the end of my work day and have him run into my arms. I appreciated our time together even more, because we had time apart.

As a stay at home mother, I get to see the special moments as they happen. I know what kind of care my kids are receiving, and what they are being fed. I get to see all the smiles, watch them grow and learn, and get more than my fair share of hugs. I miss nothing. My boys love having me home, and I enjoy being home with them. I can’t deny that being able to leave on my yoga pants on all day isn’t a perk. And I am most definitely saving money on makeup (and shampoo! Haha). I get to enjoy the sunshine and hide from the snow.

BUT I miss adult interaction. It is most definitely a huge downfall to being at home. Often times if I make a phone call, I find myself lingering a bit too long, perhaps there is something else the customer service rep at Bell wants to talk about. “Is there anything else, Ma’am?”. Well yes, there is. Let’s talk….. (totally not trying to promote Bell here, that just happens to be there slogan. Haha). I miss leaving my house for longer than an hour or so at a time. I miss leaving my house alone.

I can’t help but think that because I am home all day everyday with my kids, they aren’t getting the best of me. Not 100%, not all the time. I get tired and cranky and quite frankly need a break from them, and I don’t get it so I may be a little too irritable with them. I may lose patience too quickly. I can’t help but wonder sometimes, if I wasn’t around them all the time, would I be more patient? Less irritable? I don’t always feel like I am being the best mom that I can be because my exhaustion has gotten the best of me. But I am fed up with fighting over the same things every single day. If my son wants a banana, do I take the peel off it for him or not? I have a 50-50 chance of pissing him off and causing a tantrum. So I always be sure to ask. Lord help me if I forget. Same goes with apple. Or straws in yogurt. Or opening a package of crackers.

Sometimes it would seem easier if someone else had to worry about these things during the day- whether or not the fruit has peel. It would be easier on me if I went to work, used my brain in a different way, challenged myself, and let my kids have a break from me and be around other kids, other adults. So I tried looking for a job. I have a business degree and was hoping to put it to use. Turns out it is hard to find a job in a small town that actually allows you to bring home a decent income, leaving you with more than two loonies after you pay for full time childcare for two kids. So yes, some women choose to work because they need the income and can’t afford to stay home. Some women stay home because they can’t afford to work, it would cost too much to pay for childcare. Some women want to stay home with their kids, some women don’t. It’s a personal opinion that shouldn’t be open for debate.

For whatever reason you decide to work or stay home, it shouldn’t matter as long as you are happy. That’s what matters. Because a happy mommy makes for a happy family. What you do for a living (whether it be outside the home or not) does not dictate how much you love your child.

We need to stop beating ourselves up (me included) about how we all live up to the standards of being a good mom. If your child is loved, happy and safe, than you are doing a good job and it won’t matter to him/her what you do. To them, our only title is ‘mom’.

Hugs & Smiles,


Love and pressure


Ahhh….Valentine’s Day. A day not dissimilar to Mother’s Day where you have high expectations of being swept off your feet, pampered and dazzled with wine and chocolate.

Yeah, well not to sound bitter but I am not a huge fan of Valentine’s Day. Maybe I would be if my husband was romantic! haha. But it seems like a huge money racket to me. In saying that, I am rather hypocritical because I still expect a gift. Simply because it’s Valentine’s Day and if I am being honest when others ask me what I received, I don’t want to say nothing. It sounds so much more romantic to say flowers or dinner or chocolates. Some sort of expression of love. And with the exception of this year (when me and my hubby agreed not to exchange gifts), I usually get flowers. I can’t help but wonder if the gift I want is for me, or just so I can tell people what I got, or so I can keep up with all the pictures of flowers and jewelry on Facebook.

I found myself scrolling down my newsfeed on Valentine’s Day reading the sappy statuses and admiring everyone’s pictures of their beautiful V-Day gifts. I didn’t have high expectations for the day, therefore I wasn’t disappointed. I didn’t do a thing. It was a regular day, except for making Valentine’s crafts and cards with Aiden (which was fun). I ate some cheap chocolate in the shape of hearts and when the kids went to bed me and my husband watched a movie (one of the non-romantic variety) while I struggled to stay awake. I was still in bed by 10pm. Jealous? You should be 😉

What I would much rather is flowers on a day that doesn’t have a heart on it on the calendar. A day when the kids have been a handful and I haven’t had time to shower and my husband tells me to go take a nice long bubble bath, that he’ll feed and bathe the kids and put them to bed. Let me go to Walmart for 2 hours uninterrupted. Let me have a full night’s sleep. Let’s have a conversation like we used to, pre-kids, that doesn’t involve us talking about how many times our 1 year old pooped that day. Or bickering because our patience is hanging by a thread.

Or a date night. A night out where I don’t have to worry about the kids and I can relax and get a good night sleep and not have too early.

That’s what I want. To reconnect with my husband on a day that doesn’t put pressure on us.

The fact is, kids change everything in a relationship. Not necessarily for the bad, for the good as well! But anyone who has one child knows that things shift in a relationship when a baby is born. A baby that needs attention and love and becomes so important that it is easy to push your spouse to the side. Well, my friends, when you have two kids, things change even more.

Sometimes I am so busy with the kids (and exhausted) that I can’t remember if I kissed my husband goodbye when he went to work. He comes home and I try to ask him how his day was before I start telling him about Aiden’s tantrum or Camryn refusing to nap. Sometimes, although I am super comfy, I feel bad that I am in the same clothes I was in when he left that morning. Trust me, there are some days like that.

We get lost in our kids. We all do. How can we not? They are so consuming of our time and energy. So spouses bicker over little things and big things. Sometimes we forget to be the people we were before we had kids. When the only real worries we had were each other. I love my husband. I have loved my husband for 16 of my 33 years. On Valentine’s Day this year my gift to him was not punching him in the face when he was driving me crazy. That’s LOVE because I know if I didn’t love him, I would have punched him 😉

I probably don’t say I LOVE YOU to my husband daily. Yet I tell my kids a total of 1,145 times a day. I have good intentions but it gets lost amongst the shuffle of the day and instead those three words are often replaced with three more. What’s for supper?

One thing I can say that I love about Valentine’s Day (and one that I can thank my husband for) is the fact that I now have 3 Valentines. Small, medium and large 😉 And I loved my handmade card from Aiden as much as the one him and Daddy picked out from the store. I even loved the card from my husband (even if he did read it so fast that it had ‘Mother’ written on it and was scratched out and replaced with ‘Wife’ in his hand writing. I KID YOU NOT ladies, I KID YOU NOT!!! The boys were with him, so I will let it slide because I know how hard it is to shop with 56 pounds of distraction). Anyways, it wasn’t about the cards, it was about the people who gave them to me. My loves. Those are my gifts, on Valentine’s Day and every day.

And of course, there is always room for chocolate 😉

Hugs & Smiles,


Last Christmas, I gave you my heart

I love Christmas. I have always loved Christmas and I have my parents to thank for that. They instilled the magic of Christmas in me at an early age. They started traditions in my childhood that I have carried into adulthood. I couldn’t wait to play Santa Claus to my children so I could instill the same in them.

Last year I hated Christmas. I had no spirit. None. I was 9 months pregnant, due the day after Boxing Day, and couldn’t wait for it to be over (both Christmas and being pregnant). If it weren’t for Aiden, I doubt we would have even put up a tree. It didn’t feel like Christmas because my mind and spirit were elsewhere. I was concentrating on my baby and his much anticipated exit from my little ol’ body. Christmas took a backseat to Camryn.

Luckily, I wasn’t in the hospital for the holidays. Camryn was born Dec 16th. I got home on the 19th, so I had a few days to get settled before Jolly Ol’ St. Nick came down my chimney. But instead of getting settled, I got thrown into a whole new world that was so unfamiliar to me that I didn’t know if I wanted to be there. I wasn’t prepared for the emotions I had. I wasn’t in the mood to spread holiday cheer.

I remember enjoying Christmas Eve (which is great because it happens to be my favorite day of the year). But Christmas morning was horrible. Aside from the first few minutes when I was pulled into the excitement of it all because of Aiden and his enthusiasm, the day was not a good one. A trip to the ER with an 8 day old baby, bickering with my husband while Aiden tore open his gifts, crying uncontrollably in my bathroom, and sitting in my son’s dark, empty nursery crying on the phone with my sister and then trying to cover it up with a smile. Not a Christmas I was used to. Not one I want to experience again.

I felt guilty for feeling the way I did because here I was, having just been given the best, most precious gift for Christmas. A baby! Camryn was finally here! It made no sense. My heart knew that. But my mind never. I was an emotional wreck, trying to adjust to my ‘new’ life.

As the days went by, things got easier and I started adjusting. My hormones levelled off and I cried less. Life with two seemed a bit less scary. Looking back, I realize I was just experiencing what most mother’s experience after giving birth. But I think what made it worse was the pressure of Christmas. The expectation to be happy and joyous. Feeling this way made me realize that this time of year (for whatever reason) isn’t always the most wonderful time of year for everyone.

Fast forward one year later, and my Christmas spirit is back. I am counting down the days until Christmas Eve, humming Christmas carols and dancing around my living room with both my boys. I am feeling the joy of the season and am spreading it in any way I can. No pressure. No tears. I am excited this year as 4 stockings are hung on my fireplace. I am looking forward to Christmas morning (as early as I am sure it will be) and the excitement and chaos it will bring. No sitting in dark rooms and no feeling like I am living in an unfamiliar world.

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart. This line will forever remind me of my lifelong Christmas gift. Camryn. Happy 1st birthday little man. I love you beyond measure.

Oh, and Merry Christmas (or Happy Holidays, Season’s Greetings etc) to you all. It shouldn’t matter what the greeting is, it’s the fact that you are saying it. Spread the cheer. But no pressure 😉

Hugs & Smiles,


Hush little baby…..


Happy Tuesday!

Any parent knows what it is like to be sleep deprived. For some, the sleep deprivation stage ends much sooner than for others. Some parents like to brag that their child started sleeping through the night at 8 weeks (I may or may not be flipping all of you the bird). Well, my 11 month old son is the most unpredictable sleeper. Some nights he wakes once or twice for a quick cuddle, or his nummy, or he is on his belly and caught in the corner of the crib and needs rescuing. Other nights, like the last two, he has slept through. Didn’t make a sound for 11 or 12 hours straight. But for every night he sleeps through, I have to pay tendfold. For 4 nights in a row this past week I got less than 3.5 hours sleep. Not even in a row. I’d be in and out of his room every 5 minutes. The second he was settled, I would creep back to my bed, get in, gently lay my head on the pillow that didn’t have time to lose my head dent, and he’d be crying again. One night, 264 times. One night he just decided to stay awake for two hours. Awesome buddy, let’s cuddle and chat and talk about how the one thing in the world Mommy hates is sleep.

Not only has he made it a habit of waking up a lot at night, his day starts early too. Oh yes, 5:20am after being up all night and he’s ready to go. Morning one, I sighed and got up and went in with a smile (after all, he’s cute). Morning two, it took me a little bit longer as I didn’t have much energy and had to literally drag my right foot along the floor as I made my way to his room. I still smiled as I opened his door. Morning three, my smile had faded. My husband had to work a day shift (and was on call as of 5am) so not only was he unable to help overnight but I couldn’t even nap during the day. It’s a horrible feeling being up all night knowing that for the next 15 hours there was no way you’d get any rest. So by morning four, after being up too many times, I started to cry when he woke for the day. I did. I cried. I was cranky as hell. I was snapping at my hubby as he got ready for work. I snapped at my 3.5 year old and poor Camryn didn’t get the best of me that day either. I was exhausted. Drained. But that doesn’t matter because both boys needed me. Sleep or no sleep, my day had to go on.

Some days are uneventful, long and boring when you’re tired and spend the hours counting down to bedtime. Others are very eventful. Today was a day when I am glad I was rested. Not only did I feel human, but I was in a good mood and not letting little things bother me. This is a good thing because when Aiden came running over to me holding a bottle of Febreeze, rubbing his eye, saying “Mommy, I sprayed this in my eyes, but it hurts so don’t you do it!” I remained calm and immediately rushed him to the bathroom to flush his eyes (which are fine by the way). Then when he told me his mouth tasted yucky (and smelled flowery), I realized I should probably rinse his mouth out too. The tired me would have freaked and not known what to do. I would have read the back of the bottle and seen in bold letters ‘DO NOT SPRAY DIRECTLY IN FACE’ and panicked. I probably would have cursed. Or maybe the floral scent would have put me to sleep, who knows. The point is, it was a good thing I was alert enough to deal with this.

The fun continued at bath time when Camryn took a bucket of water and poured it over his face, and got a mouth full. He started coughing and choking and turning red. As I picked him up and leaned him forward and started pounding on his back, he threw up. Everywhere. Water, and everything else in his belly. What a fright! All I kept thinking was what if that water had went into his lungs and I’d have to rush him to the ER. A minute later, Aiden comes running in yelling “BATH TIME!”, strips off his clothes and crawls into the tub by himself, while I am there holding Camryn (making sure he is okay). Aiden starts licking the bath water. Yes, the bath water that Camryn just puked in. I tell him to stop and he says he is trying to get the flower taste out of his mouth. I tell him again to stop. He doesn’t. I had a choice, either I could tell him that Camryn just threw up in the water and deal with him freaking out because he was licking the dirty water (hey, I may have gotten more than 3.5 hours sleep the night before but there was no way in hell I was in the mood to deal with a tantrum. Not if I could help it!!) OR sternly tell him that if he didn’t stop licking the water, bath time was over (which was risky because more than likely it would result in a tantrum too). But that is what I did. I gave him three tries to stop licking the water and he never, so I took him out. What I didn’t consider until now was leaving him in. HAHA! Don’t judge me. He’d already had a few good licks of the pukey water, what harm would it have done leaving him for a few more minutes? 😉

Camryn has been sleeping through the night for the past two nights. He’s done this before….which means any night it will end. His unpredictability sucks because every night I sit on pins and needles, waiting and wondering if he’ll wake up. I pretty much hold my breath all night long, hoping that monitor doesn’t go off. I am hoping he’ll get into a routine soon and start sleeping through EVERY night so I can feel like a human being on a daily basis. He needs to do it not just for me, but for himself and his brother too. I mean, I have to be prepared to handle any and all situations, right? I can’t have him spraying Febreeze in his face or eating pukey bath water too, now can I? 😉 No. I can’t. We all need our rest, sweet boy. So hush little baby, don’t say a word………

Hugs & Smiles,


Hugs and helmets


Happy Friday!

I am doing something right. In this crazy world of motherhood where it is easy to doubt yourself at every corner, I know I am doing something right when I see how sweet my little boy, Aiden, can be. Not all the time mind you but overall I have played a part in raising a genuinely thoughtful and caring child. One that even talks about his feelings! Yes! He is a male and will tell me how he is feeling and why. I hope he never gives this up. I hope he always shares with me, and the future love of his life, his emotions.

Of course, I am not naïve. I know he’s not perfect. There are times when he is throwing a fit or being mean or just acting like a difficult child. During those times I take no credit for his behaviour and tell him he must take after his father 😉 I know that for how sweet he is, he is equally full of 3 year old rage. As much as he is a good boy, he can be a little punk too. I swear sometimes he has so much attitude I believe there must be a teenager living inside that little body. But for now, I am pushing that to the side and focusing on something I am more proud of. That is the fact that my hubby and I are raising a good boy.

Aiden is only 3 years old and I never instilled this in him, but for some reason he feels it is his job to protect me. It doesn’t matter that I am his Mommy, that I am ‘the boss’, and that he is the small boy and I am the adult, to him he is my protector. It’s adorable. If I exercise too fast (this seriously happened while I was doing mountain climbers), he will approach me with concern on his face, and ask me to please slow down because I am exercising too fast and I might hurt myself. During Halloween we had an extra pumpkin so I asked him if he wanted to carve it with me (while Daddy was at work). He said no, because he was afraid that I would cut my fingers holding the knife and he didn’t want me to get hurt. We drove from our house to visit our family 2 hours away, and he reports to Poppy right away that he did a great job keeping Mommy safe while we drove. Wait…. I am starting to see a pattern. Maybe it isn’t sweet after all. Maybe he thinks I am an accident waiting to happen and doesn’t trust me with sharp objects, moving vehicles or even my own body! LOL

In all seriousness, he must learn this from me. He sees how much I care for him, how much I am concerned for his safety, so he needs to protect me from the same things I protect him from. Same thing with expressing his feelings. I tell Aiden how I feel. If I am frustrated with something he is doing, I will tell him. If he does something that makes me mad or sad, I will tell him. And I always always always apologize if I lose my cool. Now I find he does the same thing. He may not tell me in the moment, but it doesn’t take long for him to come to me and tell me why he was frustrated. It is so cute. He will say ‘Mommy, I was very frustrated because Camryn was trying to play with my toy’. He apologizes too. So I guess kiddies really do learn by example. Which isn’t always a good thing. I’ve heard him use the F word in context. For example, “Mommy, the birds are eating our fucking garbage!!!’. I have heard him tell me, under his breath, to piss off. Then he immediately says “Sorry Mommy. Daddy says a lot of bad words”. HAHAHA. Well, at least he’s blaming Daddy because I know he has heard me say a few bad words in his short life. Just today I said one and he yelled out from another room “Mommy, LANGUAGE!” and I responded “Sorry!” Wait, who is the child and who is the parent here again? 😉

Even if he goes downstairs to help Daddy work on the basement, he pokes his head out the door literally every 2 minutes and says “Mommy, are you okay up there?”. When I respond “Yes honey, I’m fine!” he says “Call out to me if you need me, Mommy, ok?” I smile every time.

When he knows I am frustrated, he gives me a hug and then runs to draw me a beautiful picture to make me feel better. I get kisses all the time. He holds my hand, simply because he wants to. He’s a snuggler, and I hope that never changes. Then there are the moments where I consider the fact that there are in fact two of him. The good boy and the well, for lack of a better word, ass! Lately he is on this ‘I want you to go away and never ever come back’ or ‘I am not going to love Camryn ever again’. This morning he told Camryn that if he didn’t stop crying he would ‘crack his head open!’ Seriously! Where in the world did he hear this? There are times when I feel like I am raising my voice and disciplining him all the time. How can he go from one extreme to the other within seconds? Yesterday we had a dance party in the kitchen that lasted about two minutes. Even Camryn was dancing and laughing. The party ended abruptly when, like a switch, Aiden started screaming because the music was too loud and he wanted it turned down. I get so frustrated and try not to pull my hair out. Then a few minutes later, he says something so sweet that my heart literally melts and I think ‘are you a 90 year old man living in a 3 year olds body’? He is so wise beyond his years and says things you wouldn’t expect a 3 year old to say…..and I am back to being proud. The crazy episode just moments before pushed aside for just a moment while I take in his goodness.

Like the rest of us, he has his moments and he has his moods (they just change more frequently than most. LOL). He’s just trying to figure things out and as his Mommy, it’s my job to help him do that. To teach him what behavior is and isn’t acceptable (like threatening to crack his brother’s head open). Along the way, you take the good with the bad I guess. While, thankfully, there is more good than bad, I take comfort in the fact that he is turning into a boy I am proud of.

Hugs & Smiles,