Here goes nothing...

I have always been one of those people that go on and on about how I will NEVER drive a minivan because ewww and shit. Who needs all that room? Who wants to look like a douchebag? I mean, minivans are for moms and old people with lots of grandchildren. "I won't give in!" I say. "I won't lose my cool!" There's "plenty of room in my Jetta!" "SUV's are totally enough!" You get the idea.

I 'pshawed' the car dealer when she suggested that I check out a Routan when I surprisingly declared how super tiny the Tiguan crossover was. "Nope. Never. Don't even talk to me about it" I said. After a little coaxing and a huge "what the hell!" I hopped up into the mom-mobile. "At least this will shut them up" I thought.

You know what? It wasn't so bad. The seats were leather...and soft. The touchscreen was FUN! I love touchscreens! It has how many DVD screens? You can watch 2 videos at once, you say? The doors do WHAT with the click of a button? Damn. Look at all that room! I could fit all of my photography equipment in here PLUS leave Mason's carseat and still have tons of room. There's plenty of space for another baby (when we have one) and a bigger stroller. It's comfortable. I don't feel like I am sitting on the dashboard and simultaniously smelling the backseat passenger's breath. It has a V6. It drives like a car.

Was I *gasp* losing my cool? Was I going to drive a minvan. Was I going to look like a mom? Wait.

Hold it.

I am a mom. I run a business that requires me to lug around all sorts of equipment and chairs and reflectors and props. What's the problem? Suddenly, I couldn't even tell you why I thought minivans were so bad? A "soccer mom" stigma? Maybe. But again, I am a mom. Doesn't everything have a stigma? You drive a 4 door sedan...you must be slow. And old. You drive an SUV? You must hate the environment. You drive a big truck? You must be overcompensating. You drive an expensive car? You must be snobby. Why do you need a HUGE SUV when you are a childless couple? Yadda yadda yadda.

No. I think you drive your car because you like it. Imagine that. My husband never bought a sportscar because he was going to take it somewhere and race it. My in-laws didn't buy Mini Coopers because they plan on re-enacting a scene from the Italian Job (that I know of). My mom didn't buy an SUV because she is short and couldn't see the road in a smaller car. Love you, mom! And your T-Rex arms!

I guess I never thought about all this before. I thought I knew what I liked. Maybe I was trying to hold on to someone that I am not. I am a mom, but I am still Tiff. Just because I drive a bigger car that has self-opening doors doesn't mean I am someone different. I still like to drink wine! I still like to dance and watch bad reality shows! I am the same boring, child-toting, vertically challenged, cackle-laughing person...I just drive a car that has more room for your judgemental ass. So hop on in! Pop in the Hangover and let's go out on the town! I will even let you take a nap in the back if you like!

September.

September was birthday month. It was lunch dates, dinner dates and good times with old and (kinda) new friends. A month of phone calls and bookings and "can I do this?". Hair cuts, suckers, new toys, new clothes and new shoes. September was also a month of tears, frustration, lonliness, hopes up and hopes down. September had 30 pretty much beautiful days, that quickly turned into darker evenings and cooler temperatures.


But September is gone. October is here, when I drink lots of beer, and a new month brings a new beginning. Sure, there will be more dates, bookings, lots of work, another haircut (hopefully no more new clothes or shoes or toys), even cooler-yet temps and even shorter days. But this is the point where I do raise my imaginary beer and say: Here's to October. Here's to zero tears, frustrations, minimal lonliness (Paul does have a little travel this month), and hopes turning into reality. Here's to 31 gorgeous fall days of nothing but happiness and rainbows and puppy dogs and shit. (Now, you didn't think I would really make it through a serious post did you?)

Have a great Scotch-tober my friends.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Remember way back when I would religiously post monthly letters to my son? Nah, me neither.

But hey! He turned TWO. And if you ask him, he will tell you that as well.

The Mom Who Does Not Do Character Themes decided that a Cars theme would be appropriate this year. There's a first for everything, right? Also, The Mom Would Said She Would Never Put Her Child on a Leash? Yeah, she kicked the bucket last week. I bought an Elmo leash in a mad dash to a big box baby store when I thought we would be accompanying my husband to California (child + LAX = I panic). Now that we are *not* going, going, back, back, to Cali, Cali? Now, I just have an Elmo leash. What the hell am I going to do with an Elmo leash?

 

Only child, much?

I am starting to think that Mason really doesn't want a new brother or sister. Example numero uno: He stole my thermometer, the one I use to take my temperature every morning and HID it. Luckily I spotted it under his toy shelf while I was laying on the floor in his toy room today. Good try kid.

Next? He likes to jump on me and bounce on my stomach as if to say, "Take that evil potential-sibling-eggs". He also getting really, really close to 2 which means him screaming, "MINE" a lot and throwing himself to the ground, whining and going on food strikes, much to my displeasure and really making me rethink the whole 2-child scenario.

But of course there are the times where he cuddles, tell me to "try it mommy" and gives me that cute little grin that makes me really want to have another one. I really feel like I missed a lot of beginning stuff with Mason because of all the anxiety and crazy. It might be selfish, but I think I deserve it. I think I deserve another chance.

A little piddle diddy.

We are still in the deep depths of hell potty training. Actually, that's not fair. Mason has been doing wonderful with telling me when he has to go. Just not every time. He only tells me when he feels like it. So behold. The Potty Training watch. He loves it. It plays music. He dances. It helps my fried brain remember to take him to the potty. He knows it means he gets a gummy bear (or three! If he goes).

The other day, I was making lunch and talking on the phone when he told me "Mommy, potty! Let's go! Alright!" and starting running for the bathroom. I can't tell him no, so I followed, leaving lunch on the stove and continuing my conversation. I helped him with his pants and diaper, handed him a book and headed back to the stove. Of course I heard an "UH OH!" so I ran in only to find a huge puddle on the floor and Mason splashing around in it. Then, OMG you guys. He stood up and stomped in it. I hung up the phone. Stood there and squeeled a little bit, told him to sit back down and did what any totally equipped, grade-A mom would do. I yelled for Paul. I could barely speak, let alone tell him that no, his child was NOT bleeding and no, nothing horrible had happened.

It was worse than horrible.

There was pee. On the floor! And he was standing! and playing! Squeeeeeeee.

Paul basically looked at me, raised an eyebrow and told me to just take care of the burning lunch on the stove. Mason was placed in tub. The floor was mopped up. Crises over. It's all good.

Oh, and he PEED! Errrr Yay!? Biggie boy!? Here's a gummy.

::hides from flying objects::

So basically if I was trying to run a once-a-month blog I would pretty much be the most awesome-est (deal with the grammar) blogger in the universe. In the last two months we have packed our lives, three times, had birth control removed, attended two weddings that I was a bridesmaid in, traveled to the beach and back, cleaned, packed again, moved, unpacked, cleaned some more, ripped out landscaping, bought new landscaping, organized, shopped, yadda yadda yadda. What? Did you catch something in there? Yes. Normally I think that one's trying for more little people is a private thing...well...you have one and then you realize that all secrets, dignity, etc. go flying out of the window at lightening speed. What am I afraid of? The questions every month, maybe. But knowing the amazing people I have surrounded myself with, that won't happen. So people know. Big deal, I tell myself. Did it take me a while to get used to this? Yes. Did I cringe when the "secret" was let out without me doing it myself? A little. Now? Now we wait. Well, we do more than that, but we mostly wait. One thing I have learned? It's really freaking hard to not lunge at the cabinet in the bathroom with the pregnancy tests in it. I pride myself of being an all-knowing master of fertility. Okay, just kidding, but I know what's up with my lady-business, yo. I know how to chart, temp, look for signs, etc. And I damn-well know when I should and should not test. Still? Still it is hard to not pee on stuff just to see if it turns colors.

Don't look at me. You did not just catch me eyeing the Water-Temperature Color Changing Super Duper Awesome Lightning McQueen Hot Wheels.

A whole month, huh?!

Remember me? Hi! Just sitting here watching Cars for the eighty-millionth time with my sweet almost- 22 month old boy. The sweet part may be a little bit of an exaggeration seeing as he has become quite the little independent toddler which means lots of fit-throwing and screaming matches and NO! Although these days we here a lot more than no. Sentences. Full sentences. Also, singing of songs. Usher and Taio Cruz to be exact. And Elmo too, but mostly Usher. We know colors, letters, every single children's character - even ones that I never taught him, like Shrek. What the hell? We have never watched Shrek and he knows him enough to pick him out on a new grocery tote. We have been swimming a lot in the last couple weeks - enough that I tried those old-school arm floaty things and he LOVES them. He despises life vests (too restricting, imagine that) but love love loves the arm floats. He has gotten really good at going under and swallowing a minimum amount of water. A HUGE improvement to the gallons he was drinking at the beginning of the summer.

Next up? We have some weddings  happening in the next couple weeks and then MOVING DAY! To say that I am excited would be a GIANT understatement. My own space, furniture, schedule. I just cannot wait! Although I do get some beach time right before the big move, sans Mason so that will be nice. You would think I would be pumped about that, and I am, but moving? That, my friends is where it's at! Not much more to update on, I think I have it covered. Instead of reading my boring dialogue, look at some photos!