X-Mas Avenged and Revamped

Well, all you Grinches and Scrooges out there, 
do NOT read this...

Last year, on account of my having kicked out my son's father in early December, I did not really wish to celebrate a holiday that stresses the importance of family, love and friendship... even for my son, who was only six months old at the time, so I did not really do much at all.  My mother had decorated my apartment a little, just to make the place a tad more festive, and I had at least dressed myself and my son up for the occasion, but my heart was not in it at all.  'Bahumbug,' 'Screw this' and 'Fucking retail holiday' were just some of the sentences swimming around in my not yet lucid head, amongst the mental debris leftover by my dear ex and my own postpartum depression, of course. 

Well, Saint-Nicholas, Rudolph, Frosty and the rest of the Christmas gang would be proud of me THIS year, let me tell you: I decorated the house with garland, stockings, ornaments and the whole shing-ding more than a MONTH ago, spending about two hours on the whole sha-bang, and I put up a beautiful X-mas tree, by myself, that I am extremely proud of, also about a month ago.  I decorated my tree simply, yet in great taste, (well, I guess THAT is to be judged...) in turquoise, purple and golden tones - with a ribbon instead of a star on top, and a golden ribbon instead of the tacky and yet oh-so-traditional garland.  The skirt underneath the admittedly FAKE tree are in the same tones as the ornaments that adorn its branches - turquoise, purple and gold, and I had bought it on special with my BETTER ex on a Boxing Day shopping spree, in the hopes that it would dress up OUR tree one day... *sighs*

I also went a bit overboard with the Christmas gifts, over-stepping and blowing my non-existant budget a couple hundred-fold and I also coordinated the wrapping paper with my gorgeous tree, keeping the golden and turquoise tones so that everything will match on Christmas morning.  I am happy to offer my son all sorts of new toys and books that we will both be able to enjoy, but I also recognize that Christmas is not just about filling up the stockings or offering presents.

Christmas IS about family and love, and with this in mind, I have implemented a special weekly routine for my son and I in which we go visit the reindeers at the mall close to our house.  We go every Saturday morning and my little Zach meticulously picks out one or two pieces of food to give to the friendly yet skittish reindeers that deem to come nibble his and my fingers.  His tiny thumb and forefinger disappear in the reindeers' mouths and he pulls his hand away, squeeling and recoiling in semi-delight while his little face scrunches up into a grin.  We will also start watching some Christmas movies on the weekends while cuddling and snuggling on the couch together.

I am also, for the first time in a long time, inviting my family and some friends over to my house on Christmas morning, for a brunch that yours truly will have duly prepared with love, satisfaction and gratitude oozing out from my heart and through my fingers and into the grub I hope to not mess up and burn...  I am a LOVER, not a cook afterall.

I wish to offer my son the fondest memories of this special time, and I hope to create and uphold new traditions that he might one day decide to recreate with his own family, telling his child, or children, how we would do this or that, and how mom's Meaty Cupcakes, Mighty Melasses Cookies and Hershey Kissed Peanut Butter Bites were the best...  

I am looking forward to spending the holidays with those I love, and especially with my boy, who is the heart thumping in my chest and the blood circulating through my veins.

Merry Christmas everyone and Happy Holidays xxooxxoo   

I am one of THOSE moms...

You know, one of those moms who is implicated in every single aspect of her child's life - she is on the parenting committee at his or her school, she is the soccer or hockey or whatever else coach, she is the head of this or that extracurricular activity, she goes on the school outings as a volunteer, she bakes cookies or something maybe not entirely edible for the bakesale, she is the hostess for all of his or her friends on the weekends... well, I am and will be one of THOSE moms.

I have recently been approached by the president of the CA at my son's daycare to become one of its members, and of course, I accepted.  He asked me if I would be interested about two weeks ago, while I was trying to dress my wriggling and squirming son in his snowpants, boots, jacket and the whole rest of his mandatory winter gear, cursing under my breath and already wishing it was summer.  I was instantly wanting to be involved since he told me that this administrative group had a direct impact on the daycare and its every day functions.

We had our first meeting tonight, and though I was sadly disappointed that there was no coffee, cake, cookies or other refreshments being served while we spoke budget and other important matters (my brain functions better on caffiene and sugar, as do most people's I think), and though I was somewhat lost and did not know the protocols called for during such a meeting, I enjoyed myself and knew that I was where I should be.

To know that I will have a say in who takes care of my baby boy, what goes into his mouth every day in the form of snacks and lunches, and how the money is spent in order to better his overall daycare experience, makes me feel as though I am doing something worthwhile for him, AND the other children that have and will become his friends.

The things I HOPE I am providing for my son...

Thank you to my good friend Jules, who posted this link on my Facebook.
Every day I ask myself whether I am doing a good job or not in parenting my son alone, and every day I say to myself that I am doing the best that I possibly can... but I always hope that I am giving him every single thing he needs and more.

http://butterflywriterblog.wordpress.com/2013/02/06/17-things-boys-need-from-their-moms/

Starbuck... how every father should learn and grow.

MEN: Watch Starbuck, a movie that depicts how a man SHOULD change himself in order to be a GOOD father.

SINGLE MOMMIES: watch Starbuck and cry because he becomes such a good father.

SINGLE MOMMIES WHO HAD A BABY WITH AN ASSHOLE: watch Starbuck and CURSE out that sonofab**** with whom you mistakenly created a life, but bless him at the same time because he AT LEAST gave you a beautiful child.

 

For my baby boy...

Here is a song that plucks at my motherly heartstrings every single time I listen to it - I have begun rocking Zach to it every night before putting him in his crib for his dodo...
All I wish for him is that he be a happy, healthy, loved and satisfied little man... whatever he chooses to do, as long as he does not voluntarily harm himself or others in the process.
I love you my Zach-a-Poo.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rgFQ6WmxdMs

Parental Advisory: Explicit Content

For those lighthearted individuals reading my blog, please excuse my morning rant and only read the following if you can take a few big swear words because I need to spew out my anger...

Here goes: I called my dear lawyer this morning to see if I could change my son's name - you see, I had the bright idea when Zach was born to follow a Russian tradition in honour of the fucking man I thought would be with us for the rest of our lives;  therefore, my prescious baby boy possesses not one, but TWO, of his father's fucking names: Zachary Semion Therrien Polstianoy.  You see, in Russia, children are named after their father no matter what, and so there is a special ending given to a child's name according to his or her gender;  thus, a little girl will be forever known as her father's daughter in the same way that a boy will be known as his father's son.  

Well, it has been a year that this charming man after whom I had decided to name my son has not given any sign of life to me OR to my son, nor has he helped us in ANY fucking way... and when I asked the lawyer if I could start the procedure to change my son's name, he responded that a YEAR was not fucking long enough for the court to grant me this monumental change.

A YEAR is not fucking LONG enough ???????

Are you KIDDING ME ????????

In a young boy's life, a whole year is FUCKING long, let me tell you... 

Apparently, some fathers only recognize their progeny after THREE years... they only fucking wake up THEN and claim their responsibility towards the child or children they so childishly, immaturely and retardedly deserted in the first place.

As mothers, WE do not have the same opportunity because we carry our dear babies inside of us, whereas a man can sow his seeds any which way and then decide to nurture the growth of those plants or not... 

I shall leave you with this song and video that makes my throat clench and tears spring into my eyes every single time I listen to it: Every man knows how to make a baby, it's not fucking Biochemistry, but it takes a REAL fucking man to become a FATHER.

Fuck.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oiKj0Z_Xnjc

Parenting 101

Now that our relationship has withstood the test of a month and a little bit... how does a mother integrate her new man into her son's life?

It seems so complicated and yet it should be so simple and straightforward... he has been absolutely wonderful with Zach thus far, giving him kisses on his little forehead before dodo, sharing our bedtime stories, trying to calm him with me when he has an impatient outburst, etc. 

My tiny man has even begun imitating the newer love of my life - stretching his little arms in the air when running around naked before bath, just like my boyfriend does on a regular basis (minus the running around naked part of course!), or doing a miniature version of a two-step that my lover has done a few times around us, and trying to produce the same grimaces with his tongue and lips.

My son has even begun calling his new friend by name;  for example, first thing in the morning when his piercing brown eyes are still crusted with sleep, when my boyfriend is in the bathroom and needs some privacy, or when just playing around me and wanting some more attention - much to a mother's chagrin, he has now begun saying this novel name more than he recites those precious words every mother loves to hear, 'mama' and 'mommy'.

My lover still seems a bit reticent, however, and I am not sure how to encourage him to do more because Zach is, afterall, not his actual son...

I am sure that time, much like with anything else in life, is the answer to all of my queries, so I am attempting to let the two of them define their relationship on their own terms without any intervention on my part.