This whole single mothering thing is getting to me. I keep toggling between bouts of hate/depression. Hate for The Hubby for abandoning me (I know he didn't, but try telling my heart that) combined with a yearning for him. A need for his touch, his voice, heck even his snoring.

The depression part. If it weren't for the kidlets, I wouldn't even get out of bed most days. There's no point. I'm barely cooking and cleaning. I'm basically doing the bare minimum needed to survive. There's no point. I'm not going to cook a pot of rice and chicken for one. Dishes pile up in the sink for days at a time. Why clean? There's no point. No one's coming to visit, no one's home to look at it. It's just the boys and me. I haven't even been going to church as often either. Don't want to have to talk to people and deal with reality. I know it's not good, it's unhealthy and even toxic for the kidlets to be in this kind of environment but I just don't care anymore. I have gotten better though, I actually fired up the stove and cooked twice in three days. That's a record for me nowadays.

We've been battling a nasty bug that keeps passing from kid to kid to mom like a bad joke. But I think that we're finally overcoming it. It's what The Kid did last night that made my heart skip a beat. He asked to sleep on my bed when it was bedtime and since he wasn't fully well I let him. Imagine my surprise when I went to bed myself about three hours later to find him still awake. He gave me a big hug and said "mamma, you're the best!" and fell asleep on my arms.

Doesn't that melt your heart?

But the cat was already dead. Not really, but yeah. See, in my random caribbean island of birth there exists no such thing as spaying or neutering pets. For that matter, pet food is nonexistent and vets are only there to provide forms when someone wants to take an animal out of the country. So most people's forms of pet natality control is laying out a bunch of traps and killing them. Mean, sad, but true. And the butcher on the corner was most interested in keeping the cat population in the neighborhood under control.

That said, one beautiful spring morning we woke up to a dead cat in our garden. We being curious kids with nothing else to do started poking and prodding the cat. You know, for fun. It was a beautiful orange sherbet tabby and it's eyes were wide open and staring off into space. Or so I thought. Apparently the cat must've been only paralyzed because it started to stare at me. No one else saw it, but it kept on looking at me and freaking the heck out of me. Not sure what happened to the carcass of the cat. I'm sure that it eventually died off and was stuck in a garbage bag by one of the adults and then thrown in the trash.

So.....This morning I was changing The Kid for skool and I'd left Duckie in the bathroom. I'd expected Duckie to follow us out of the bathroom like he always does when I realized that not only had he not followed us, but that there was a weird noise going on....I rush to the bathroom to find....





My sweet baby boy pretending to brush his gums with the toilet bowl cleaner!!!!!!!!!! ahhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (major overreaction emoticon)


I scrubbed his mouth and hands as best I could but I could not bring myself to kiss him when I dropped him off at the sitter's. I'm hoping that they'll kiss the nastiness out of him by the time I pick him up after work.

The Kid, you have started skool and you have a love/hate relationship with it. On Monday, your first day, you cried on and off for the entire two hours that you were there. Tuesday, you didn't cry as much. Only in the morning but were extremely happy when I picked you up. You had a very good day that day. Yesterday you had a good day too. Although when I told you that you were going to skool you started to cry and said "no shhkowl mommy, no shhkowl". But when I told you that skool was fun you started to laugh and tell me all about their puzzles, and slides, and your friends.


You're an odd kid, but I love you.

So, here it is, either late or early, The Kid's update. I hope that he doesn't get mad at me when he's older and sees all the updates that Duckie has and the few that he has.

The Kid, you are two and a half and a wonder to be around. You can:
dress yourself (for the most part. You still need a bit of help but you're getting there)
are an expert in putting your shoes on in the wrong foot, lol.
Know your ABC's in both english and spanish as well as your numbers in both languages.
Know your shapes, colors, numbers (some numbers, depending on the font that they're printed).
Are about to start skool, you are very excited about this one.
Your vocabulary is expanding more and more each day.
You can do a flip and almost a cartwheel. You're working on both a headstand and walking on your hands. Either of the two is giving me more gray hairs than I can manage.
You love creating with your hands.
You miss daddy a lot, but we look at your book everyday which is filled with pictures of daddy.
If it's high up/dangerous/toxic, you want to do it. I've resigned myself to the fact that you're a daredevil and nothing I do will change it.
You absolutely love to draw, and your drawings are too cute.

Have turned into such a polite little boy. I have no idea where my baby went to, you say please, thank you, sorry, and expect the same courtesy to be given to you. Although I'm getting tired of apologizing to you for your getting hit on the table/floor/chair. It's not my fault you fell, not sure why I have to say I'm sorry.

you know what? we haven't really had a tantrum episode. The few times that we've been out and about and you've misbehaved it could be directly traced back to being overdue for a nap or just woke up from a nap. Either I've been doing a good job disciplining you or I've been getting better in scheduling outings at the best of times for you. I'm leaning towards the latter, you know, in case it comes back to bite me in the butt.