From the category archives:
You would think I’ve seen it all but I haven’t. Nope. Like this…
This thing Benjamin does when the mood strikes, or when we have a far distance to walk to in a rush. In this case we were dashing to a bush to so he could pee because the church was all locked and there were people praying very loudly in a room near the other bathroom.
So back to the thing. [click to continue…]
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You don’t have to know him very well to instantly see that inside of this little three-year-old is a strong, tough guy waiting to come out and do man things all day.
Take my Uncle Dennis’ truck for example.
There is no place on Earth Benjamin would rather be than sitting in the back taking a donut break.
That’s why I’m going to hold pictures like this for ransom.
Oh! And those underwear he has on – he calls them “panties”.
I did NOT do that on purpose.
I swear.
I honestly just called them panties for two weeks before it dawned on me, “Hey, that doesn’t sound right.”
Too late. Panties they will be until someone else can convince him otherwise. See the rest of our Easter photos here – Martha Stewart would have a heart attack.
Happy Easter!
We’re heading down to grandma’s today with Mia and Sydney, who are both doing really well (I’ll bug her for another post).
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My ex’s request and hate mail [updates]
I’ve decided to let Benjamin’s father keep him for two nights this week. Your advice on that was, as usual, spot on. My favorite tip is to take it week by week, see how it goes and always let Benjamin say if he wants to stay or vice versa. It’s all about Benjamin and if he wants his dad then he gets his dad. And even though my ex-husband has even expressed desires to go back to Canada, he’s still here. And I shouldn’t deprive my son of his father while he still has one around.
I also do believe, especially after reading a comment from Canadian Bald Guy (a single father himself) that men can change as fathers because the children change.
If you’re looking for something really awesome watch his video in response to my hate letter. He basically tips his hat off to single mothers in a big, big way. Coming from a single dad that means the world to me and so did all of your comments. The world, people. Seriously. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
You all made her words disappear in an instant.
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Maybe I just didn’t want to hear another “I can’t” or “I’ll try” – each one cutting a bit deeper than the last.
But somewhere along the way I just stopped.
I stopped asking my ex-husband to spend more time – time outside of his 36 hours a week – with our son.
So I’m not sure why, when Benjamin refused to let go of his father this afternoon, I said, “he needs you now, more than ever – maybe you should spend more time with him.” [click to continue…]
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Because today was Benjamin’s first and his last third birthday and because I didn’t buy him a single present in Austin I spent my lunch break on a mission.
My mission was to buy everything I would need to transform his room from a nursery/toddler room…
[Click to continue, although, be warned - there are TONS of photos in this post and a video - although I think you won't believe what you see. I still can't believe I pulled it off]
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My first memory is of toddling behind my mother along a dark hiking trail somewhere out West.
I must have been about Benjamin’s age.
A few hours earlier we had all split up. My father and some of my other siblings stayed on top of the trail while my mom and the rest of us went in. And now we were completely and utterly lost. In the quickly fading light all we had seen were the yellow buffalo crossing signs. Soon we spotted a road. We waited until a car drove by, flagged it down and hitched a ride back to the parking lot where my frantic father was waiting.
Some say your first vivid memory defines your personality.
Does this mean I’m lost? Or afraid? Sounds familiar.
But I’m finding my way. I’m finding it through the eyes of my son, the most amazing thing that could ever happen to someone fearful of love is finding someone who loves you unconditionally. And through him I’m learning how to let someone love me.
On our trip we didn’t get lost. Not once.
And all along the way I couldn’t help but wonder which one of the memories will be his first.
Seeing his first plane
or riding on one?
Or will it be his second flight when the raisin snacks from the first flight gave him a vicious poop attack? (Thanks mommy). Poor kid was screaming his brains out. Luckily the nice man sitting next to us was beyond accommodating. [click to continue…]
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