A day without a dad...

Ok, I realize that it is as late as it could possibly get and still be "this week," but it still is, so I am good on the resolution of once a week--by the way, once a week to me means one Sunday through Saturday, not necessarily 7 days.  Hey, I'm a work in progress.  

I have decided that I would be a horrible single mom.  D is out of town this weekend, and the last two days have been the longest of my life.  I didn't really notice it until 5:00 pm yesterday when I normally would have gotten a call from D to let me know he was on his way home.  I didn't hear from him until much later, nor did I hear from him most of the day, which is not normal for us.  It was at that point that I realized that is how I get Fuss settled from his afternoon fit.  I tell him, "Daddy is on his way!" and he gets excited and runs to the door as soon as he hears the key in it.  He really loves it when his daddy comes home, and frankly, so do I!  Last night my Fuss delved further into his terrible twos phase with nonstop tantrums ranging from what pajamas he wanted to wear, what he did not want to eat for dinner, and whether or not I am allowed to put things away that belong in the basement without hauling Fuss along for the 15 stairs up and down.  He did go to bed good, until 11:10 pm, at which time he decided he couldn't sleep unless I was holding him in my arms.  

The terrible twos continued for my not-quite-two-year-old this morning beginning at 4:05 am when he decided that he needed a "ba" and I had to go to the kitchen to get him a sippy of milk to stop the constant screeching "moooommmmm" (this must be said while imitating a dying, high-pitched parrot).  Then at 5:45 I was not allowed to use the restroom without sobbing and hollering of my name again, only this time it was just the saddest little cry you have ever heard, like he was afraid I was never coming back, which by this point I was considering.  I missed my D more than ever, keeping in mind that I am only relaying the major moments, about every 15 minutes we had some sort of a breakdown throughout the majority of the night.  

To enhance a wonderful weekend, I decided that it would be fun for Fuss and I to drive the 50 miles to my parents' house for a visit.  I strategically planned this so that Fuss would miss his nap.  Okay, I really thought that he would fall asleep in the car, which would give him an hour nap and that would get us through the majority of the day.  Of course, it didn't quite happen that way.  Fuss didn't fall asleep until the last 20 minutes of the drive, which does not constitute a long enough nap for a 20-month-old terror.  Fit after fit occurred, starting with suddenly being afraid of my parents' miniature poodle, one of the few dogs that no one should be afraid of, to fighting with me over whose Pepsi I brought back with me from picking up lunch, mine or his.  I think he won that one since he drank almost the entire thing while I was doing other things.

The clincher that made me know for sure that I could never be a single parent was when I agreed to a public exhibit of dining in a restaurant with several members of my family.  It started with Fuss' refusal to sit in a highchair.  This was followed by the climbing of the bench and glass that separated us from the people on the bench behind us.  He then slid to the floor under the table, made his way through the maze of legs, over the front bar of the highchair at the head of the table that he should have been sitting in, under the highchair, over the bar on the back, which was waist high to him, and off to wave to his new friends in person.  He walked down one row of tables making sure to touch the back of every chair he passed.  Then he walked through the main walkway of the restaurant stopping to wave to the people at each table.  When our food came and I forced him to sit down by me to eat, he broke into a sobbing fit!  You would have thought that I ordered him asparagus and spinach instead of grilled cheese and fries!  It was bad enough that I immediately asked for boxes and the check and took my terror home.

The hardest part of the day though, was when I was trying to get Fuss to extend his nap and took him into the extra bedroom at my parents' house to lay down and hopefully fall asleep.  He was whimpering and refused to settle in, so I suggested that we call daddy.  When D answered his phone, I put it on speaker phone.  As soon as Fuss heard his daddy's voice, he took the phone from my hand and started to kiss the screen.  He got a huge grin on his face, and kept smiling and kissing until D said goodbye.  At that point, Fuss took my cell phone and held it tightly to his chest in a hug.  He pulled it out every once in a while to look at the screen, and then hugged it to his chest again.  When I tried to take the phone away, he held it tighter and refused to let me have it.  He finally fell asleep holding onto his daddy's voice.  Good thing Daddy comes home tomorrow!

I resolve to...

Okay, so it has been brought to my attention that I am not very blog attentive lately, and it is true.  Even worse than writing, I have not read any of my friends' blogs since...I don't really know.  But, it is a new year and with a new year comes resolutions.  Usually my resolutions last until about January 15th, but since that is tomorrow I am hoping that I am turning over a new leaf.  And I figure is I don't actually write them until the 14th then they are bound to last longer than one day...I hope!  So, for your reading pleasure and my hoping that if others know them I will be more accountable to them...my new year's resolutions...

1. I resolve to be patient with my husband, children, extended family, other drivers, slow people at the grocery checkout using the self checkout but that don't really know how, the people that park their cars on the street when the road isn't wide enough to still be two lanes when they do, and those that allow their dogs to roam aimlessly and "do their duty" on my lawn so that I can't allow my one-year-old to play in his own yard without a quick "pick up" from mom--so gross!  I resolve to turn the other cheek and not focus on the stuff that I cannot do anything about or that is truly not important.  I will only be inpatient when we are truly going to be late or when I have already asked nicely 3 times or more. 

2. I resolve to finally fit into a size 10 again.  I would really like to fit into an 8 again, but I'm not pushing my luck.  That means that I resolve to workout for at least 8 hours each week, watch what I eat, and actually cook real meals with vegetables and everything.

3. I resolve to add to my blog at least once a week.  I resolve to not make my cousin, Neyney (and you know who you are even though you too get a fake name), to have to remind me how long it has been since I have last written. It is my responsibility and I resolve to resume it.

4. I resolve to have a cleaner home.  I resolve to mop my floors at least once a month (I almost wrote once a week, but I have to be realistic).  I resolve to even mop behind the toilet.  I resolve to wash the baseboards and the walls at least 3 times in the year.  I resolve to deep clean the closest and the storage room downstairs where I don't like to go...

5. I have resolved to my sister that if I do not have another baby by the end of 2009, then I will run/walk a 1/2 marathon with her by August 2010, which means I resolve to take up running in 2009 to train for it.

6. I resolve to follow the basic principles that my mom taught me from the day she brought me home: to be the best me I can be, to treat others as I would want to be treated, to be an example of my Savior and live so that He can be with me always.  I also resolve to teach my children these same principles.

Happy 2009!!! 

Family Christmas Letter

I have not posted anything for a few weeks due to an increasingly busy schedule.  My life now consists of working from 4 am to 7:30 am and then again from 11:30 am to 3:00 pm five days a week.  Needless to say, I am very tired!  I apologize for not keeping up on my blogging responsibilities!  With that said,  please read on for the Christmas letter I would have sent out if I were the type of person to send Christmas letters out...

Our Dearest Family and Friends,

This year has been quite an interesting, educational, and humbling year for us.  The boys are getting so old and are learning new skills such as different ways to express their utter disgust at the uncoolness of their parents, such as several styles of eye rolling, pouting, yelling, and verbal expressions.  It has been fun to see the creativity of each of our children from Olie down to Fuss. They have each grown so deeply in this area throughout the year, which truly makes parenting a joy.  

Olie is still into computers, reading, and anything educational (except homework). He is in the 6th grade and loving riding the bus every morning.  He has recently started his own website with help from D and has set up the entire family on it so that we can instant message with him while he is at his mom's house.  He is getting smarter every day!

Skater is more and more interested in skateboarding, his ripstick, and scaring me to death with his tricks.  He loves snowboarding and is very excited for this winter season.  He is in 4th grade, but thinks he should be in high school.  His best friends here at our house are in Jr. High, so that only adds to his teenage attitude, which we are learning to appreciate as much as we despise it.

Moo is in 2nd grade and feeling left behind.  He wants to be as old as his brothers and feels left out when they do things he is not quite old enough for.  He was very excited that he was able to ride all the rides at Lagoon this summer, even if it was only because we had him wear really tall shoes.  He is looking forward to being baptized this coming year.  He loves sleeping in, singing in the bathtub, and ham, cheese, and mustard sandwiches.

Fuss has been the greatest challenge for me this year.  He is now 19-months old, but thinks he is much older too.  This year he has learned to walk, run, and climb.  He has learned to talk and express himself through gestures and facial expressions that he has learned from observing his brothers.  He is into everything and thinks that he rules the roost.  He has an adventurous personality, but approaches things with caution.  He is full of life and energy and determination and stubbornness and perseverance.  

D is still loving his job as a network engineer.  He misses the boys and loves his time with Fuss, who has become his little shadow.  He stresses about everything, but is still willing to offer a helping hand wherever he sees a need.  He is the first to be willing to offer his knowledge or skills to our family, friends, and neighbors.  He is a wonderful father, supportive husband, and a great example to our children.  I learn more each day how much I appreciate and lean on him.  I feel very fortunate to have such a wonderful man in my life.  He is also pretty good at laundry, getting better at vacuuming, and this coming year we will be working on dishes and cooking!

As for me, this has been quite a year of learning and growth.  I was let go from my job in April and discovered that putting off the medical transcription course I had purchased a year and a half earlier was not the best decision that I had ever made.  As soon as I was jobless, I worked on the course diligently and am now working as a medical transcriptionist for a company in Arkansas.  It is great because it allows me to work from home and still be the primary care giver for Fuss.  I have loved being with my little man all day every day and have learned so much about curiosity, patience, and love from being with him.  I have also learned how much I cherish adult conversation.  I too miss the older boys when they are not with us, but sometimes miss the peace and quiet when they are here.  I hope for the day that they will live with us full time and that missing out on each day of their lives will be a thing of the past.  

This year we have learned that we can try to live off half of our previous income, but don't do very well at it.  We appreciate unemployment programs more than we had thought possible.  We have also learned that Clomid may work for 90% of couples struggling to have babies, but that we are in the 10% in doesn't work for.  I have learned that wishing to be thin does not make you thin and that the work must be more than just the thought of it.  This year has actually brought more trials than any year in our marriage (all 3 1/2 of them), and through it all we have learned that the Lord is by our side.  He has seen us through each and every trial we have faced this year and opened new doors of opportunity, love, support, and friendship.  Each time that I have felt like we have hit the bottom, we have been lifted up in miraculous ways.  

This Christmas season, as we celebrate the birth of our beloved Savior, our family will truly celebrate His love for each of us.  We have felt it so strongly this year and know that He is always by our side.  He is with us each step of the way and holds us up when we feel we are falling.  I pray for the peace and happiness of each of our friends and family members this year.  We are truly blessed through each of you.  You have also sustained us throughout this and previous years.  We are blessed by the even the limited contact we have with so many of you.  My life may not be what I thought it would be, but I am not giving up hope yet...or probably ever!  

Love and Peace to All,

D, Annie, Olie, Skater, Moo, and Fuss

Walking contradiction...

I am turning 33 this week (Thursday to be exact), and in considering the fact that I am getting older, I decided to reflect a bit. As I have reflected, I have seen myself as a walking contradiction. I know that it sounds a bit crazy, but when I explain I think you may agree with me. For starters, I have an honest and true desire to get back to my pre-wedding weight. Yet, I don't have the desire to work out for hours each day like I did when I was at my pre-wedding weight. When I get upset, I have a horrible tendency to eat. Yet, after I have eaten away my depression I feel even more upset. I love having a clean house, but I don't love cleaning it. Actually, I don't mind straightening, but I absolutely hate doing the details, like washing the walls and baseboards, mopping the tile, cleaning the toilets and tubs and shower, vacuuming, folding the laundry...the details. 

The thing that really got me thinking about this was last Friday. Fuss had been eating some mini Oreos that I had purchased for him in one of those little "to go" containers (like a normal package can't "go" with you anywhere), and I decided that I wished I had some Oreos too. So, later that afternoon when we went to the store, I bought some Double Stuffs (because if you are going to have Oreos there is no point in eating the single stuffed cookies). Once we returned home, I started cooking dinner. And as our frozen pizza was warming up in the oven, I opened my Double Stuffs as an appetizer, poured myself a glass of milk, and started to enjoy....and think. I wondered if it was an oxymoron for me to be dunking my beautifully delicious Double Stuff Oreo cookies into skim milk? On Sunday, as I was making dessert for my family, I pulled out a can of sweet and condensed milk to make some hot fudge (the best hot fudge you'll ever have)! As I poured the chocolate into the hot fudge, I wondered how many calories I was actually saving them by using light margarine and fat free sweet and condensed milk. I figured that it was worth the effort, but then I used a spoon to eat some of the extra hot fudge by itself later...not really saving the calories then. 

So, I have decided that my desires don't outweigh my actions. My mind contradicts my body. And I am in the middle of a two-way battle with myself, that either way I will lose...

Oh, the drama...

I thought that with having all boys I may be free from some of the drama that girls bring with them. I thought wrong. With the constant mishaps from the older boys, like Skater trying to climb out of the window during church last Sunday, my house is basically a broadway drama. I am just waiting to see who gets the Emmy. I am thinking it may be Moo with his dramatic way of throwing himself into a pouting fit and yelling things like, "You guys are horrible parents!" I think that if our 7-year-old thinks that we are "horrible parents" that we must be doing something right. It gets better though, after this particular scream I asked Moo what it was that made D and I such "horrible parents." He told me that he didn't know, but that his brothers are always mean to him. Then came my favorite (least favorite) dramatic monologue, "When we are at my mom's house, they tell me _____" (fill in the blank with whatever dramatic thought or action you can think of because it is different every time he is upset. I then have to break into my spill about how I have absolutely no control over what goes on at his mom's house, but that he knows that that behavior (or speaking) is not allowed at our house. And then continue with how we have to treat each other with respect. Sunday, after a particularly dramatic day, when Moo told me how "horrible" I was, instead of trying to find out the root of the problem, I just turned to him and said, "Really, cause you are absolutely wonderful right now!" in my most sarcastic voice. Sometimes you just have to be honest (honestly sarcastic). 

Sadly, the drama has not skipped Fuss. Last week D was chasing Fuss around, catching him, then tickling him. Fuss was laughing hysterically throughout the house. I was calmly taking a break from being mommy when Fuss ran into my room with his arms outstretched screaming, "MOM! Say me" (which is "save me" in Fussinese). He ran to my arms and laughed as I wrapped my daddy protecting arms around him. I loved that I was his protector, until the next day. Fuss brought me a barrette that he wanted me to put in his hair. I attempted to explain to him that his hair was too short and that barrettes are for girls. He got upset and started to throw a tantrum. I picked him up and started to get him dressed for the day (bad idea in the midst of a tantrum).  As he wiggled away from me, he grabbed my phone. He slid the phone open, pushed a few buttons, and put it up to his ear. He paused for just a moment then started a pretend conversation, "Gama! HEPPP!" (translation: Grandma! Helpppp!).  

Bathroom humor is not funny...

Fuss' fascination with the bathroom makes me suspect that he may be ready to start potty training. I am not sure why the interest in the toilet comes and goes every couple of months, but i am sad to announce that after a short absence of toilet bowl playing the interest is back. Just yesterday I was in my room and Fuss was playing in my closet when I had a feeling that I should to see what he was up to. I quickly turned around to see Fuss leaning over the toilet with the lid and seat lifted in one hand and his head and other hand well into the bowl. I screamed (and I do mean screamed) at him to get up. As he lifted his head I was overcome with relief that it was not wet--not even a drop! In my "I am upset" voice I asked him, "Just what do you think you are doing?!" His expression turned to one of intrigue as he lifted his hand out of the toilet with his wet binki in it and said, "Uh oh." Uh oh is right!! I have considered getting some of those safety locks for the toilet so that Fuss can't open it, but I am afraid that I will have some sort of emergency and not be able to open the toilet in time for myself. I mean, I do drink a lot of water and I no longer have a gallbladder (for those of you that don't have a gallbladder you know what I mean, and for those of you that still have yours be grateful and hope you never have to find out what I mean)...

Today, Fuss' potty playtime continued. However, he was more fascinated with flushing the toilet than actually putting things (like his head) inside of it. I would much rather he play with the flushing handle than any other part of the throne. The only problem is that the plunger is sitting in the corner behind the toilet (for easy emergency access) and the cleaning brush is hanging from the tank on the same side. These items seem to be too hard to resist for little hands, and I am frequently washing Fuss' hands after I pull them off the plunger. I keep thinking that I should just Lysol the plunger, but who Lysols their plunger so that their kid can play with it??

I did have one more bathroom episode this morning regarding my little man that is totally appropriate to share considering the topic of this post... I was sitting in my recliner, checking my email, totally minding my own business when Fuss ran up to me to be picked up to my lap, which of course I happily did. During the lifting process, my nose got a little too close to his bottom and I knew that he had created a mess for me to clean up. I told him, "You stink! We need to change your bum and get you a new diaper." I didn't know that my almost 18-month old was going to take me literally and take it upon himself to do the job. He climbed off the chair, and I really didn't think much about it because he rarely sits still for long anyway. The next thing I knew (and it is kind of a blur because of my franticness) I heard the sound of velcro diaper tabs being pulled from their secure spot on my sons abdomen. I turned around just in time to see the dirty diaper drop to the floor. In one swift movement I put my laptop down and was out of the chair and running toward the bathroom (at least it was on the tile) in a motion so fast I don't really remember the individual movements. As I was rushing to the bathroom, Fuss' little poop covered bum was running away from me. He giggled as if this were a really fun game for both of us. He stopped at the toilet, but by this point the toilet was truly pointless. I grabbed the wipes, cleaned him up, and told him that I don't know why he was running away. In this circumstance it wasn't like I was about to spank him by any means! 

I'm so popular...

I totally got tagged again. (Sorry Missy I know it was a couple of weeks ago, but I kinda got behind on my reading). Anyway, I am supposed to list 6 quirky things about myself....only six!

1. I am a little obsessive compulsive about a few things: Making sure that the doors are locked and tightly shut all the time. Making sure our alarm is set all the time. Checking on Fuss while he is sleeping. D giving me a kiss when he leaves in the morning, comes home at night, and before we go to bed. Laundry being put in the hamper when it is dirty. Washing hands constantly and consistently throughout the day--and making sure that the boys do too. Straightening the knick knacks and picture frames in my house. Just to name a couple...

2. When D and I have differing opinions and I really feel strongly about wanting mine to be the one we follow, I pout to get my own way. I know I sound like a 2 year old, but he knows that it is not real and still gives into me...can that really be called my fault? It works, and Fuss knows it so I am reaping the consequences of it. I still plan on using it though. 

3. Like Missy, If I am eating candy that has some sort of variety to the mix, I separate it by color or flavor. I then eat the random extras so that all the piles are the same size. Then I eat them one by one in a circle starting with my least favorite working my way up to my very favorite. If it is something like Skittles, I eat my favorite flavor (lemon) last, but if it is something like M&Ms, I eat my favorite color (green) last. I even do this with the little mini Hershey's bars. Plain Hersheys, Special Dark, Krackle, and then Mr. Goodbar. It is a sad reality, but you have to save the best for last.

4. I have to know what everyone else at the table is ordering in a restaurant before I can decide what I am getting. I especially have to know what D is getting, and I never get the same thing as him. If he wants what I want I either change my mind or talk him into something else, because that way we can share and try two different things. It is so bad that one time I ordered an entree that had mushrooms in it (which I love), and D turned to me and said, "You know I don't like mushrooms." 

5.  After I shower, I have to put my terry cloth robe on and I leave it on until I am done with my makeup and my hair is dry. I can't stand putting clothes on if I am even slightly damp. I have to be entirely dry...entirely! I have to put deodorant on as soon as I take my robe off, but before I put anything else on. 

6. I am a competitive person except about things that I should be competitive with. When I play games, whether it be card games, board games, or kickball, I prefer to lose instead of win. I mean, I do love winning, but if I lose it is not a big deal to me at all. I feel like there is way less pressure to do good or "hold on to the title" if you lose than if you win. When it comes to something intellectual though, or something that I think I should be really good at, which are usually things that you never know how you rank, I like to be the best. I actually get a bit of anxiety about it when I don't know how I rank. 

So, there you go...I am OCD, 2 years old, a save the best for last, more OCD, loser...and I am happy with no plans on changing. If D can live with my quirks then so can the rest of you!

Now, I tag Theresa, KD, Rebecca, Eskimo Bob, Julie, and Kimberli.

They're listening...

I know Fuss listens to me, because as I have mentioned he copies me and makes me all too aware of what I say and do. I also know that he is not the only child that does this to his parents. Children grow up way too fast and start to say things that make you have to take a double take to make sure it is still a toddler that you are talking to. 

For instance, in an attempt to teach Fuss what different objects in the world are, I often tell him things like, "That is a door. Can you shut the door?" to over emphasize what "the door" is. He is totally catching on, and let's face it he would have to be a pretty deaf little boy to not catch on to what I tell him over and over and over again. I love it when I get the chance to enjoy hearing his understanding. Like last week when he was playing in his room. I was in my room making the bed when I heard Fuss' bedroom door slam shut. 

Since shutting doors is the recent favorite activity in our house lately, I knew that Fuss was now trapped in his room. He can reach the doorknobs now, but he isn't quite tall enough to turn them. A few seconds later I heard Fuss yelling from his room...

"Moooooom"

"What, Fussy?"

"Da door!"

"Ok, I'm coming." When I got to his door, I decided to knock on it because Fuss also enjoys knocking on people's doors when we visit. 

He immediately responded with, "Is it?" I can totally understand this question considering he was trapped in his room and he wouldn't have known if someone else besides he and I were here. 

As I was telling this story to my I cousin who has two children, ages 4 and almost 2, we were discussing how fun it isn't that our children imitating us. During this conversation she was explaining that she was concerned that her 4 year old had recently began worrying about his weight declaring that he was "getting fat." As she expressed her concern to her husband, he expressed his thought that their son had gotten that habit from copying his mom. Shananigan immediately contradicted her husband with, "I don't say that I am getting fat! I say that I am already fat! There is a difference!" I agree with Shananigan, we mothers can't be held responsible for everything our children say, sometimes they must hear it somewhere else!

Happy helper...

Fuss is to that age where he wants to not only say everything I do, but he wants to do everything I do too. I have actually encouraged this behavior with compliments like, "What a bigger helper you are! You are such a good boy!" This is said in my high pitched mommy voice. He usually smiles his proudest smile and claps his hands in excitement. It really didn't take long for him to catch on to liking compliments. Now, he helps me in whatever I do. My suggestion for those parent's whose toddlers are not "big helpers" is don't worry about it. Be grateful that they don't have the desire to "help" you with every task you have throughout the day.

Yesterday, Fuss dropped his freshly poured sippy of Sunny-D on the tile floor of the kitchen.  At the moment that bright orange fluid was creating a small reservoir on my tile, I was wishing that I hadn't filled the cup so full. I thought that if I filled the cup to capacity, I would have a longer break from getting drinks than if I were to give him just a small cup or not filled the larger one. Either way, there was a huge mess that was getting bigger by the second. I immediately grabbed 2 dishcloths out of the drawer and began mopping it up. It was a 2 towel job! As I was doing this, Fuss grabbed himself 2 dishcloths out of the drawer and decided to help me mop. He threw them on the ground and stepped on them and dragged the cloths over the mess with his foot. Yes, I am lazy enough to mop up the drink with a towel and my foot, and I am teaching my son to be too. Then he used his hands to finish up the job until everything was nice and dry. Actually, I had dried the floor, he just made sure it was truly dry. Not a big deal that I now had to wash 4 dishcloths instead of just 2 more, until later last night. As I was cooking dinner I turned around to find Fuss kneeling on the floor wiping up messes with a dishcloth in each hand. There was also a pile of previously used towels that he had also used to "mop" my kitchen floor. So, now instead of only 4 dishcloths, I have a whole basket full to wash! At least I have a full load to do so they won't be sitting in the basket for too long!

Fuss also likes to "help" me pick up his books, toys, snacks, sippy cups, etc. He picks things up and throws them in the bathtub. Everything goes in the bathtub at our house. If ever there is something that I can't find where it belongs, I go to the tub (or the side of D's bed now that I know that one). 

The latest of Fuss' helping moments that I find oh so helpful came this morning. I was minding my own business and using the restroom. Fuss had been happily playing until he saw me on the pot. He came running towards me just as I was finishing up. I leaned down and grabbed my underwear from my ankles and pulled it up. Fuss immediately leaned over and grabbed the top of my sweats and started to yank them up. I took the waistband thinking he would let me finish the job, but he didn't let go until they were snugly sitting on my hips. I started laughing at this attempt to help me do everything, and I really do think that pulling up my pants for me completes the list of everything. Fuss looked up at me with his proudest grin and said, "Doo boy!" Then clapped his hands in satisfaction. How can I refuse help like that?

The sacrifice we make...

Here I sit at 20 minutes to 7 am typing in the dark. D and Fuss are sleeping in my room, and I am sure that the older boys are just waking up at their mom's house for school. I have been awake for the last 2 hours and 42 minutes. Why? Because as a mother, I am willing to sacrifice my sleep to be able to stay home and be the one that gets to raise my son. Due to circumstances beyond our control (child support payments), I don't have the choice to be a non-working mother unless I want D to work multiple jobs, which I don't. I am very blessed though to have been able to find a career that I enjoy that enables me to work from home. I am a medical transcriptionist, and although the starting pay isn't all that great, it is a sacrifice I am happily making to be with my baby. And the faster and better I get at it, the higher the pay will be. Luckily, I am a quick learner! My day now starts at 4:00 am, my work day that is. To start at 4:00 am requires me to wake up at 3:45 am, which requires that I go to bed by 9:00 pm--talk about sacrifice. I have to read the evening news the next morning on the internet. Then I have to tell D everything I read because he now goes to bed with me. I thought that this new arrangement would be so easy for D. Go to bed early, sleep until the normal time he wakes up (7:15 am), and then go through his normal day. So far, it hasn't worked out that way at all. 

This morning Fuss woke up at 4:45. I sat in my office wondering if D was going to hear him, or if Fuss would just fall back asleep. Neither of those things happened. So, I stopped working, poured Fuss a sippy full of milk, found a binki (knowing that the one he went to bed with could be anywhere in his room), and went to Fuss' room, picked him up, and took him in to D. All the while I was thinking that Fuss would lay down, cuddle up to his dad, and go back to sleep. Instead, he coughed so hard from the stupid cold he is getting that he threw up on my side of the bed, on the sheets that I just washed yesterday! He needed his diaper changed, and he wanted to play. He cried for his mommy a bit, which broke my heart as I sat in my office with the door closed, knowing that if he saw the light he would come to find me. The sacrifice that I gave up this morning was to cuddle my child when he wanted me. I could do it because I knew his dad was there, and that I would get to spend the rest of my day with him. Fuss was finally starting to go back to sleep when I hit a button on the computer that messed up what I was typing. After several attempts to fix it myself, I had to go get my computer genius husband to fix it for me. Of course, Fuss wasn't going to let daddy go to mommy's office without coming himself! After fixing my faux pas, D turned to me and said, "I may as well have woken up at 4:00 myself!" All I can say is, " Touche, my love! Touche! We all have to make sacrifices for me to work from home..."