Empty Bed, Full Heart- A Single Mother's Journey

It's Christmas in July. Actually, it is BETTER than Christmas in July. It is 4th of July week in my home town, which does 4th of July like New Orleans does Mardi Gras. These are the top reasons why my city is the best city to be in on Independence Day. (Take that, Washington D.C.) 1) We can blow fireworks off in town.  You may think this sounds like a safety concern and you would be right. You might also think this causes our city to look like the back bathroom at a seedy bar on a Sunday morning. You would also be right about that. It is, quite frankly, the worst after party clean up there is. However, the party itself is totally worth it. So while you are in your town parked in a crowded public arena to watch fireworks purchased by the city, I'll be parked on the street at my parents' house hoping that an empty round doesn't land on my car while watching close friends and family almost burn their fingers off with explosives. If you don't think that's awesom...

....of potty training. At Baby Boy's second birthday (I guess that would mean he isn't a baby anymore. Pardon me while I dissolve into a puddle of tears.) he received a pack of big boy undies from my parents. So far, the biggest challenge in the Potty Training of Boy Child is calling his underwear "undies" and not "panties". He has two older sisters and the vocabulary is a much harder habit to break than I anticipated. About a week after his birthday, I decided to do what I did with my oldest daughter when I potty trained her. That is to say, I put him in his panties, er, undies, and just took him to the bathroom frequently and boy, did that ever NOT WORK AT ALL. We went through all 8 pairs of underwear by noon. So, as you might imagine, I was not feeling very optimistic that he was ready for bathroom independence. At the beginning of this week, my friend-who-shares-my-namesake called me, ecstatic, because her son who is a few weeks older than Baby Bo...

I made a huge mistake today. It all started on Tuesday evening. I went to the gym because, HALLELUJAH! I actually got off of work in time to go to the gym for once- and I even went with another person. Exercise and socializing - yay, me!Afterwards, on my way to pick up my little man, I got a text from my mom and dad. "Don't pick up H at daycare, we have him." At this point, I should've gone home and made my parents drop him off when they were done. But instead, I met them at the gates of hell, er, Walmart*, and while I was there, lo and behold, I discovered that Coke was on sale. I don't, as a rule, buy pop, because if I buy pop, my kids drink it and then I hate myself for letting my kids ingest garbage. But on Tuesday, since it was on sale and Walmart preys on its victims like sharks in a pool of bloody limbs, I bought JUST ONE case. I put the Coke on the ledge in the garage when I got home. That way I'm less likely to drink it mindlessly 6 cans at a tim...

Recently, I was reading up on my Facebook posts (I've been trying, with moderate success, to cut back on the time I waste, er, spend on social media) and a young friend of mine posted this beautiful post about how "what you focus on is what your life becomes" and "attitude is everything" and "the world is what you make of it". I've become somewhat of a cynic is my curmudgeonly age of 31, because when I read (and inevitably repost) those "inspirational" messages, I sometimes find myself laughing so hard I snort. This friend graduated college three years ago and just finished her first year teaching English to high school students. She is single and carefree with a dog who is "just like" her child, a very active social life, and about a zillion friends who like every time she posts a workout photo or a #Shakeology advertisement. And the thing is, I remember being her. I remember being young and not having worries, at least ...