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Sunday, September 16, 2007
Monday, September 10, 2007
Ain't That Funnay...
Most of you might not know this, but I'm a really sensitive person. There are a lot of things I'm insecure about when it comes to myself. Maybe that's not the best word? Maybe "unsure" is more like what I'm trying to say. Either way, it always puzzles me when I stop to think about "friends".
I've put the quotes in because, when I think about things right now, I don't really have a whole lot of friends left. With Caden here, being a single mom, and moving across the country... well... it puts me in an odd group I guess.
Plus, I'm picky about who I call a friend these days. I dont like to throw that term around without it meaning something. You have to earn the right to be called a friend of mine. And mainly you earn that by showing me you're someone I can get along with and someone I can trust.
To expand on the getting along part... I'm wondering tonight why I never really fit in with so many of the other women at the playgroup. I could try to blame it on the fact that most of them were married and I wasn't, but really, I know that's not it. I just didnt click with them, even though I tried. Oh, yeah, what a laugh. I tried so hard to connect with so many of them. But it didn't happen.
Anyway, I randomly see them around or bump into them and it's very weird for me. I dont really have anything against most of them. There were only a very very select few that I honestly didn't like. But still I know that it would never work to try and repair bridges or become friends again.
I don't really go there anymore. I don't really see a point. There are far too many that I don't get along with to make it worth my time to go for the few I enjoy being around. And now especially since so many are talking about being pregnant or starting to try for another baby... I feel so left out. I feel jealous at their having more kids already. Not being married, just that they have having another baby. I would love to be in a financial position to have another right now.
But either way, I still sit here at night, alone, wishing I had someone to talk to. My photography keeps me busy, there's always something to work on there, and school is soon going to be kicking my butt. But I still miss those random pointless conversations. Those quirky inside jokes. And the private vents and snarks that I shared once upon a time.
I wish I had the ability to eat more crow and talk to some of them and explain I never had anything against them. Really. It was just those two. Honest.
But I don't think they'd care.
I've put the quotes in because, when I think about things right now, I don't really have a whole lot of friends left. With Caden here, being a single mom, and moving across the country... well... it puts me in an odd group I guess.
Plus, I'm picky about who I call a friend these days. I dont like to throw that term around without it meaning something. You have to earn the right to be called a friend of mine. And mainly you earn that by showing me you're someone I can get along with and someone I can trust.
To expand on the getting along part... I'm wondering tonight why I never really fit in with so many of the other women at the playgroup. I could try to blame it on the fact that most of them were married and I wasn't, but really, I know that's not it. I just didnt click with them, even though I tried. Oh, yeah, what a laugh. I tried so hard to connect with so many of them. But it didn't happen.
Anyway, I randomly see them around or bump into them and it's very weird for me. I dont really have anything against most of them. There were only a very very select few that I honestly didn't like. But still I know that it would never work to try and repair bridges or become friends again.
I don't really go there anymore. I don't really see a point. There are far too many that I don't get along with to make it worth my time to go for the few I enjoy being around. And now especially since so many are talking about being pregnant or starting to try for another baby... I feel so left out. I feel jealous at their having more kids already. Not being married, just that they have having another baby. I would love to be in a financial position to have another right now.
But either way, I still sit here at night, alone, wishing I had someone to talk to. My photography keeps me busy, there's always something to work on there, and school is soon going to be kicking my butt. But I still miss those random pointless conversations. Those quirky inside jokes. And the private vents and snarks that I shared once upon a time.
I wish I had the ability to eat more crow and talk to some of them and explain I never had anything against them. Really. It was just those two. Honest.
But I don't think they'd care.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Poison Control.
I am posting this because I want to remind all mommies to plug in the number for Poison Control into their cell phones and memory.
I had to use this number yesterday. I was proud of myself for being able to keep my wits about me. Yes I was. Thankfully it wasn't a real serious situation. It started with Caden waking up at 5 AM as he seems to be wanting to do these days. 5 AM is just too early for me, I don't think I'm technically alive that early. So I've rearranged my bedroom into a little safe haven for him and I let him out of the crib when he wakes up really early, turn on the TV and I snuggle back in bed while he plays with his toys.
Yesterday about fifteen minutes after I did this I was woken up by a peculiar giggle. Much too happy giggle. The kind of giggle where you know someone did something they weren't supposed to. Yeah that kind. I opened my eyes to see Caden covered in some sort of white mess and gleefully laughing at himself. A closer look noticed a tube of Desitin Creamy in his hands.
This is where the cussing and groaning started.
So I wiped him up, cleaned all the white creamy-ness I could find. Changed his clothing and diaper. Then picked up the Desitin tube and looked on the back. Who knows how much he actually ingested. I don't think he ate much, but never know... The tube, of course, says to contact poison control.
*sigh*
Just what I wanted to do before heading off to class for the day.
So I jumped online and looked up the number ( 1-800-222-1222) and spent two minutes talking to a helpful and reassuring voice. "Give him something to drink, watch him, expect a little diarrhea".
And that was that.
But it made me realize, I never would have thought to double check to see if someone had put the diaper bag in a corner of my room. But it was there, he got into it, and now I know better. And now I know the number to poison control (800-222-1222) hopefully after seeing it three times you do too. And should the unthinkable happen and we need to call them, we'll both have the number programed into our phone.
If you have a poisoning emergency, call
1-800-222-1222
I had to use this number yesterday. I was proud of myself for being able to keep my wits about me. Yes I was. Thankfully it wasn't a real serious situation. It started with Caden waking up at 5 AM as he seems to be wanting to do these days. 5 AM is just too early for me, I don't think I'm technically alive that early. So I've rearranged my bedroom into a little safe haven for him and I let him out of the crib when he wakes up really early, turn on the TV and I snuggle back in bed while he plays with his toys.
Yesterday about fifteen minutes after I did this I was woken up by a peculiar giggle. Much too happy giggle. The kind of giggle where you know someone did something they weren't supposed to. Yeah that kind. I opened my eyes to see Caden covered in some sort of white mess and gleefully laughing at himself. A closer look noticed a tube of Desitin Creamy in his hands.
This is where the cussing and groaning started.
So I wiped him up, cleaned all the white creamy-ness I could find. Changed his clothing and diaper. Then picked up the Desitin tube and looked on the back. Who knows how much he actually ingested. I don't think he ate much, but never know... The tube, of course, says to contact poison control.
*sigh*
Just what I wanted to do before heading off to class for the day.
So I jumped online and looked up the number ( 1-800-222-1222) and spent two minutes talking to a helpful and reassuring voice. "Give him something to drink, watch him, expect a little diarrhea".
And that was that.
But it made me realize, I never would have thought to double check to see if someone had put the diaper bag in a corner of my room. But it was there, he got into it, and now I know better. And now I know the number to poison control (800-222-1222) hopefully after seeing it three times you do too. And should the unthinkable happen and we need to call them, we'll both have the number programed into our phone.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
My Boy Loves Me
I've been thinking about writing about this for awhile, just havn't sat down to get it out of me. It's an odd concept, talking about your child's sexuality or how he will become a sexual being one day. You look at his tiny face, those teeny toes, wide open eyes brimming full of innocence. How could you ever think about the idea that one day this baby will be engaged in sex with another human (I'm PC enough to not discount the idea that he *could* be attracted to men at some point).
But when you go pick him up out of his crib, lay down on the bed, and go to change his diaper, WHAM! His little pee-pee has grown over night by four times, at least. When the hell did that happen? He's not supposed to be packing anything THAT big yet. That doesn't happen until puberty when I will have been long shut out of his bedroom while he changes or showers. Then it hits me, it didn't grow, he's just excited.
Cade never was one to get the infant erections. I heard whispers of mothers of boys commenting on how young boys get a little excited from time to time. But until recently I never noticed such a phenomena. And I certainly never read about this in any parenting magazine or e-letter sent to me by the million of companies trying to sell me their formula or toys. It's almost like it's a taboo topic. Don't talk about your son's erections. It's off limits. Well, not to me.
So I begin the mental battle of forever knowing that my son's first arousal's were witnessed by me. What a thought to hoard over his future bride. LOL. And, of course, there is a small part of me who, when we take off that diaper and I see how happy he is to see me, fills with pride when I realize he really *is* packing down there. No future lover of his is going to have complaints that his momma didn't give him what he needs. A good head, manners, strong work ethic, and equipment that works. Yep, he's set for life.
But, of course, we're not supposed to talk about such things. Well I guess my twisted mind just works differently than most, but I DO think about such things. When I was rocking him to sleep, I used to wonder who his first kiss would be with. Would it mean anything to him or would he just be a sweaty palmed teenager trying to get some with the first available girl in order to prove something to his buddies. How long will he manage to go before having sex? Will he be strong enough to wait until marriage? Will he be smart enough to wait through high school? Will he be confident enough to use protection? These are the battles I think about.
Part of that may stem from being a single mom to a boy though. There are things about men I don't understand, and I do believe men are different from women in many ways. Things I would explain to a girl I would have a tough time trying to figure out how to get a boy to understand. So when it comes to him growing up, getting older, and trying to have "talks" with him about sex, drugs, dating, school, life, computers... I get little beads of perspiration forming along my hairline trying to figure out how I'll get him to understand the words coming out of my mouth.
Parenting sure is a stressful job. When do I get my raise?
But when you go pick him up out of his crib, lay down on the bed, and go to change his diaper, WHAM! His little pee-pee has grown over night by four times, at least. When the hell did that happen? He's not supposed to be packing anything THAT big yet. That doesn't happen until puberty when I will have been long shut out of his bedroom while he changes or showers. Then it hits me, it didn't grow, he's just excited.
Cade never was one to get the infant erections. I heard whispers of mothers of boys commenting on how young boys get a little excited from time to time. But until recently I never noticed such a phenomena. And I certainly never read about this in any parenting magazine or e-letter sent to me by the million of companies trying to sell me their formula or toys. It's almost like it's a taboo topic. Don't talk about your son's erections. It's off limits. Well, not to me.
So I begin the mental battle of forever knowing that my son's first arousal's were witnessed by me. What a thought to hoard over his future bride. LOL. And, of course, there is a small part of me who, when we take off that diaper and I see how happy he is to see me, fills with pride when I realize he really *is* packing down there. No future lover of his is going to have complaints that his momma didn't give him what he needs. A good head, manners, strong work ethic, and equipment that works. Yep, he's set for life.
But, of course, we're not supposed to talk about such things. Well I guess my twisted mind just works differently than most, but I DO think about such things. When I was rocking him to sleep, I used to wonder who his first kiss would be with. Would it mean anything to him or would he just be a sweaty palmed teenager trying to get some with the first available girl in order to prove something to his buddies. How long will he manage to go before having sex? Will he be strong enough to wait until marriage? Will he be smart enough to wait through high school? Will he be confident enough to use protection? These are the battles I think about.
Part of that may stem from being a single mom to a boy though. There are things about men I don't understand, and I do believe men are different from women in many ways. Things I would explain to a girl I would have a tough time trying to figure out how to get a boy to understand. So when it comes to him growing up, getting older, and trying to have "talks" with him about sex, drugs, dating, school, life, computers... I get little beads of perspiration forming along my hairline trying to figure out how I'll get him to understand the words coming out of my mouth.
Parenting sure is a stressful job. When do I get my raise?
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Freaking Hilarious
We watched "Blades of Glory" this weekend and the entire family was rolling on the floor laughing so hard our sides hurt.
Awesome movie.
Awesome movie.
Monday, September 3, 2007
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