My Promise

Every time, she leaves me whether it's to go to school or to visit her father, I always promise her. "I will come back. Mommy will always be here for you."

It's that promise that keeps me alive today. Because I swear, I want out.

One of those Post Where I Talk About Poop

“I am gonnna poop!” These were the words she uttered to me while in the bath tub. Now I am use to her saying this. “I am gonna poop or I am gonna peep” have become her favorite words lately, but normal they mean nothing, just words she heard the other kids says.


However, this time she meant it. Right after utter those words, she pooped. I now have to wash and sterilize her bath toys, but I still can’t help grinning because this is a milestone. It’s a sign that she is ready to be potty trained.

Meet her new potty and wish me luck.

Dance With Me Mommy

The friend you would like to depend on has as usual let you down again. Your wisdom tooth broke and somehow, you have to come up with the money to have it and three others removed. It’s another day of feeling like God hates you and the world is collapsing on top of you.


Then there is that moment. The theme song to Elmo’s World is playing the background, and she comes up to me, her hands open wide.

“Dance mommy, Dance,” she asks.

I can’t help but smile. These big brown eyes are so beautiful and so hopeful.

I take her little hands in mines, and together our legs rock back and forth. We are locked in a moment. My eyes are fixed on hers and hers on mines. We smile, giggle and laugh.

The dance ends in hugs and kisses.

It’s a perfect day after all.

Little Moments

I sit beside her on the sofa. We are watching Elmo's World while she is eating dinner. She is exhausted from a day of Valentine partying at school, but refuses to go to bed before her designated hour.

Dinner is chicken nuggets and green peas. I chuckle as I watch her diligently separate the peas from the chicken. I don't know where she got that from. Certainly not me, I mix it all together and her father? Nope, he isn't like that either, but this little person is very serious that her food should not touch – yet another way she reminds me of how much of an individual she is.

In the past year as I watch her learn to walk, talk and communicate, I grow even more fascinated by the person she is becoming – confident with no fear.

I am not sure where I meant to go with this. It's just a little moment with her.

I Love This Kid

Tonight, she insisted on taking teddy to bed, so I let her. This is how she fell asleep. I couldn't resist a picture.

Duice

My little one and I battle over her drinking water. She has become a juice addict and would rather that over water any day. I, on the other hand, plan to break that habit. Right now she gets juice once a day, and water throughout the day.

This morning, after breakfast and drinking a cup and half of soy milk, she looks at me and goes “duice”

I walk over to the fridge, pour out water and give her the cup. The little bugger wouldn’t take it. “duice,” she insisted.

So a little part of me decided to experiment, I picked up the bottle of grape juice and pretended to pour it into the cup.

I handed it to her and this time -- she took it. I couldn't believe it. My little one knows the difference between the water bottle and the juice bottle.

Of course the game was up when, she tasted it and discovered it was still water. Can you say temper tantrum?

The Fish War

I am trying to introduce her to fish, but it's not going so well.

First I decided to steam it. I wrapped a tilapia fillet in foil with green peppers, red peppers, onion, garlic, tomato and let it cook in its own juice. The end result was total and utter rejection of my efforts. She picked it up, put it in her mouth and spit it out.

She ate the tomatoes and the green and red peppers, but the fish, she wouldn’t even touch it, and any foods near it, she pushed away.

Today, I made a second attempt. Last night, I did another tilapia fillet. This time, I coated it in bread crumbs seasoned with lemon grinds, basil, garlic and parmesan cheese and baked it. The cookbook for toddlers swears babies would love it. It’s basically a fancy form of fish sticks, which she hates also.

Anyways for dinner, I paired it with peas. Well guess what she is eating now. I will tell you it’s not the fish. Again, took a bite and spit it out.

Battle two has been lost, but I swear I will not lose the war. Next week, I will have to rethink another way to make fish appealing to her. I am open to suggestions. Anyone have a good recipe or type of fish that just may be appealing to a toddler?

The question

About six months ago, a friend asked if I could look ahead would I have still chosen to have a baby with this man.

My answer was resounding yes. "How could I ever regret her?"

Now, after the last couple of days. I find myself asking the exact same question and it's not a resounding yes anymore. It is: "I don't know."

Isn't that sad. I have the most amazing child in the world and the answer is "I don't know."