The Playdoh incident

Aiden is a boy's boy.  A man's man.  He doesn't care about using something for its intended purpose.  He wants to know how it works, the mechanism as to why it works.  He takes things apart.  Curious George.

We were supposed to be "baking" with playdoh.  I have a mini rolling pin, a mini potato masher and many spoons and gadgets that make it fun.  (Heck!  I have more fun sometimes that he does...)

Here is what actually happened:

"Cool!  Mom got me this tub of squishy goo.  Sweet.  But wait!! The tub has this little cool lid that fits directly over another tub and snaps into place.  That is much cooler that the green squishy goo.  Oh wait!!  She brought me this rolling pin!  That is so much cooler than the tub that the goo goes into.  How does it spin when you hold the handles still?  I MUST find out by taking it apart.  Hmmm... won't come apart.  If I bang it, it may come apart.  No?  Well, how about me trying just one side of the rollers.   No, not that either.  Rats.  I will pull a fit and throw the green goo at Mom."

I played with the playdoh and Aiden played with the cooking utensils and we both had fun.

Oh, and there is a corndog picture thrown in here for kicks and giggles...

Posting from another blog

I have been a guest blogger on several other blogs (which I love doing, but am entirely too embarrassed to advertise about...) and one blog chose one of my postings for their 2011 Top Posts.  I am honored.  Here is the post...

There is a online parenting community to which I belong.  There are many groups within that community and one is specifically for single parents.  I have found over the last 19 months of single-parenthood that I have little or nothing in common with many of the single mothers in that group.  Today I made the momentous decision to cut the cord that is the Single Mom Group.

I have questioned, over the last 19 months, why the only topics that can be discussed on the aforementioned board include the hatred of the following:  the ex.  The baby-daddy.  The ex's family.  Custody battles.  The ex's lawyer.  Being tired.  Being poor.  Being alone.  Being celibate.  Working.  Depression.  Kids that get on the nerves.

So, in celebration of being a single mother, I will shout from the rooftops that I love, love, LOVE! being a single mother.  I love the screaming toddler.  I love cuddling with my sweet boy after a long day at work.  I love the dishes, the laundry, the mess, the diaper changes, the tantrums, the bills, the stress, the sleepless nights.  I love it all.  I wouldn't trade it for the world.

There were days that I would reach my level of stress.  One day, I stepped outside my meager, small apartment to have some peace.  Then, I realized that this is the life that I was born for.  I could choose, yes, choose, to be stressed or revel in every minute of this life with my beautiful boy.

I chose that day to fix his Thomas the Tank Engine fourteen, fifteen, sixteen times and not lose patience.  I lay on the floor with my son and played.  I was the bossy engine, Spencer, and we played and played and played.

I ask the single mothers around the world, how do we do it?  How do we survive on little or no sleep, scrape mashed potatoes from every surface within dinner distance, and change a "sauced" diaper, but find time to read to our little monkeys, bathe them, and connect with the very little souls that we fell in love with when we held them in that hospital bed for the first time?  How do we teach them manners, but instill in them the sense of independence?  How do we keep our tempers, see our hands and faces age, sacrifice so much, and love it?

The answer might be the same as the one given by my mother years ago, "What is the alternative?"  The persistence of knowing or hoping that our children will choose to be more than we could ever be keeps us going - keeps me going, anyway.  I want my son to eat better, study harder, and laugh louder than I ever did.

My own single mother who raised eight children once said, "Our lives are a culmination of our choices."  After she passed away, I have thought that phrase nearly every day.  I am where I am because of my choices in my life.

I chose to eat poorly and not exercise, so therefore, I am overweight.  I chose the career field that I work in, so I am stuck in a field that may never pay well.  I chose to being a single mom, therefore, I am that choice and everything that comes with it.  I can choose to be upset about it, but in the end, it is my own choice.

And it is my choice to react how I will.   I chose this life.  I love this life.  I choose to choose JOY!

What is your choice, no matter your life situation?  What legacy of choice do you leave to your children, to your family, to the memory that others will keep of you?

Super Bowl and Beautiful Moments

Okay, we were Steelers fans this year so the beautiful moments were not IN the Super Bowl, but in SPITE of the game.  We had Uncle Chris over to watch the game, but he hates football (see last year's post) and left after about 1/2 hour.  Funny thing.  The two men that were in my house on SuperBowl Sunday were so disinterested in the game.  Ah, well. I enjoyed it.

Half way through the first quarter, Aiden had a sucker incident in which he destroyed his outfit.  When I stripped him, the Packers scored their first touchdown.  This is Aiden's version of TOUCHDOWN!  

Doesn't he look like all those starving children your mother threatened you with when you didn't eat your dinner?  He is sucking in his breath, FYI.

Roman really enjoyed the football game too.  He got a lot of dropped treats.

Right before bedtime.

Also, this weekend (and today) was full of beautiful moments.  I was able to see a dear friend of mine and have a delightful lunch.  She brought Aiden a Wiggles puzzle which he LOVES and made Aiden laugh.  And he made her laugh in return.  

Love ya, Steph.  Thanks for the pants.

I also had the wonderful privilege of teaching the 4-year olds in church yesterday.  Let me set the scene.  Several people (including the teachers of the 4-year olds) did not show up to church, so I did Sharing Time, Singing Time, then taught the class.  It was a spiritual moment when I was teaching them all about the Restoration of the Gospel and they looked at me and really got it!

Or so I thought.  We did a chalkboard drawing.  Let me explain (and I have made notation for your viewing pleasure):

Hard to see, but here we go.

#1 - I started.  We were talking about the appearance of God and Jesus Christ to Joseph Smith.  Each of the 6 kids were going to add.  I drew a pine tree to start if off.

#2 - (in red) - This is Jesus.  He is waving Hi.  Sweet.

#3 - (the two figures in green) are God the Father and Satan.  They are both smiling.  We couldn't quite explain why God is wearing a jumper, but... at this point I was feeling like they really understood.  

Until...

 #4 - (the tree circled in blue) is a Brambleberry Tree.  (???? I said???) The little girl said that they are magic trees that are purple and pink and have yummy striped fruit.  Okaaaayyy?

#5 - (the little squiggle circled in yellow) is a butterfly that Satan squished because he is a bad guy.  Mmmhmmmm???

#6 - This is where it gets good.  (bottom right hand corner with the frowny face)  This is Moroni who is sad because he buried his plates in the ground and couldn't find them.

#7 - (the smiling guy bottom left in pink) - this is Joseph Smith who STOLE the plates from Moroni and he is smiling because he was singing "Finders keepers, losers weepers, FOOL!" (as sung by a four-year old boy with a lisp... it kinda sounded like this 'finohs keepohs, yoosohs weepohs, foooo.')

#8 - (the trees on the left) these are coconut trees to sway so Moroni can "relieve some stress cuz Joseph stole the plates and he was sad"  (BTW, her mother is a yoga instructor... surprise, surprise.)

Um...... Close, guys.  Close.