Welcome or Hey y'all!

Before I had any children at all, I started & ran my own daycare. I followed in my Grandmothers footsteps when I did so. In essence, I just imitated what I'd watched her do for years. When our first child (Abbey) came along it was like the stork brought her because she was adopted. She was four weeks old & already sleeping through the night. Now that I think back on it, she was more like an extention of my daycare or a doll baby. What I mean is that I had full confidence in my mothering of her. Three years later, I came up pregnant & we were all delighted. I laughed like the biblical Sarah for 8 months. It wasn't until after I had him that the fear set in. I put on an exteremely convincing *front. Even my husband (Brian) didn't know I was scared to death. You see, I hadn't done this before. He was brand new & I was nursing & I'm a person who, by nature is high strung & I'd had a C-section & on & on. Because I had a C-section he was early by just a couple of weeks. His doctor informed us that the last thing on a baby to grow are its ears, so he had paper thin little ears that flopped forward. His pediatrician told us to keep a hat pulled down over the tops of his ears to hold them in place. I tried to keep that hat pulled down but all the hats were too big for his head and kept sliding up & pushing one of his ears forward. A month or so went by & the cartiledge in his ears got stronger but the top of that one ear had a permanent, pinky finger sized dimple in it and still does to this day. I had already failed him & he was only a month old. To the Mothers & women who want to be Mothers, I told you this story to tell you that you are not a hybrid of Claire Huxtable & Bree Van de Kamp. Those women aren't real. You are not perfect & you will fail your child or children at some point. But be not discouraged. You are not a failure & you are not alone.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Dash: The most diabolicle toddler, this side of the Mississip

My youngest son's given name is James Arthur Hines Mason. I gave him the nickname Dash because the Holy Spirit told me of his nature while I was still carrying him. From the moment he was born, he's been a handful. He has a curious, "devil may care"  personality. He's also mean as a snake. He tortures his older brother (Brother) by pulling his hair, screaming as loud as he can in Brother's room, hitting him with toys or throwing said toys at him. With me, he plays a little game I call snatch & run. I'm sure you know why I call it that. He loves to use my cell phone or the remote for this game. The only toys he really likes are cars. The way he plays is by dumping out Brother's toys or emptying any drawer he can open. He also likes eyes. He'll poke his finger into anybody's eyes, even his own. He is, by far, the most busy of my three children. He doesn't listen when you tell him no or stop. I pop his legs or hands & he'll go right back to doing what I tell him not to do. This goes on all day, everyday. I must admit, instead of chasing after him, there are some days when I don't even try. I just let him tear the house apart. I always come to Brother's rescue when Dash is doing something to him, but like I said there are days (few & far between) when I just sit & watch him pull the drawers open in my desk and toss out all of it. In those times, I look at him & the mess, with complete indifference. The only person he seems to really respond to is Abbey. We've only had the one incident when he tackled her, knocked her down & tried to bite her. She is usually who he goes to for comfort & to actually play with. I don't know why he revels in the presence of Abbey & seems to take pleasure in hurting Brother, but that's the way it is.         
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