What's in a name?

     For those of you who read these ramblings of my experiences in motherhood, I have changed the name of my blog to encompass some changes in my life. The new name has a very simple meaning. Let's break it down into two parts, shall we?

     "Single Mom". I assume that my readers are smart. The phrase itself is easy to understand; the life of a single mother is not. Being a single mom is hard work, just like for any parent. This single mom battles frustration, exhaustion, loneliness, financial strain, mom-guilt, etc. But, I embrace the pride that follows a successful day. I relish the hugs and random drool kisses. I wake up every day and make the choice to be strong, courageous, determined, thankful, and positive. That is a lot of choices to make when you are barely awake and your son is performing a ballet of "trust falls" and rail jumps in his crib at 6 a.m. when he should be sleeping. But, oh, that laugh of his. Music. His happy demeanor, thriving development, awesome health, and how he falls into an easy sleep are proof enough to me that I am rocking this mom thing :)

     "Double Shot". I know what you are thinking. Bring me ALL the alcohol!!! But that isn't the case or the meaning here. When I say "double shot" I mean, when I screw up I'm calling mulligan...until I get it right. And if I never get it right then it will be fine the way it is. I am not perfect. I will screw up. I get that. Besides, this mindset helps me battle the pressure of being a single mom and the scrutiny that it entails. And if that doesn't work...well, then line up the shooters and bring on the chocolate milk. Mama had a rough day :)

I Will Practice What I Preach

I have always been a dreamer. I like to stretch my imagination. Not to sound pompous, but I was blessed with a brain. I had goals and plans for my life. After high school, I was going to go to college. I didn't. I had no idea what I wanted to be when I "grew up" and it became a decade long excuse, among others.  I don't know what happened, but I got off track. Or did I? Maybe the concrete road to success was too smooth for me. Maybe,  I am more of a pot hole, bumpy road kind of gal. It seems that way.

I know how I got to where I am. Loud, fast and without regret.

But my son has changed me. I am patient, calm, and inspired. I want him to experience a great life. I want him to LIVE his life, and follow his dreams. But, how can I teach him that if I am not doing it myself? I don't want him to look at me one day and in response to something life changing or significant say, "Well, you didn't so why do I?"

I was curled up with him the other day, and he was just looking at me with his big, beautiful eyes and they were filled with trust and wonder...and eye boogers. So I gave him a bath and the whole time he was smiling and laughing, I was thinking of ways I could make my life better. For him.

The next day I dropped all the excuses, apprehension, and reservations I had and began the process of getting enrolled in college courses. So now I am a mom, an employee, a "housewife", and a student. Not a single person on this planet can look at me and say I am not trying.

I feel rejuvenated. And I have my son to thank for that. He is not even 5 months old and he has already inspired me so much.

I think the increase in posts I have written was my first clue!

If being pregnant has taught me anything...

     I have always been pretty good about being patient. Most of the time. Unless I am super excited about something and have the power to get it myself right away. Being pregnant is way different. For obvious reasons. Apparently, you can't just go out and get a baby at the drop of a hat, and sadly a stork doesn't just drop them off. You have to get through nine months of stuff. Ugh.

     Even though this was an oops pregnancy I have been wanting babies, and dogs, and picket fences. Okay,  maybe just babies and dogs. So once we found out we were pregnant I thought "Awesome! Here we go!" It did not take me long to realize I was not born with the glowing, serenity gene and love of being pregnant. Just thinking of those (lucky) women stirs my third trimester nausea.

     The time has actually flown by. It is everything else making me want to just have this little guy already and get it over with. I am ready. I am waiting. Let's do this. Nine months is a long time to day dream and plan and freak out. I can only get his room ready so many times before it gets ridiculous. Come to think of it, it probably already has.

     I feel as if I just roam the halls of my house and imagine what it is going to be like. I can't count the amount of times I just walk into his room and look around. And if I go through his clothes one more time, I may just call it what it is and become a self-certified creeper.

     My silver lining is this. I have learned patience through being with Nick. He is a handful, in a fun and loving way. My eye sockets hurt some days from the excessive eye rolling. I have learned patience from anxiously awaiting the arrival of our son. I only have two and a half-ish weeks left until I can confirm my suspicion that he is, in fact, the most handsome little man ever. By the time he gets here, I will have the patience of a saint. Maybe then I will acquire that mythical glow I keep hearing about.

     If anything, it will give me time to practice for when he gets old enough and both he and Nick take turns driving me crazy. I look forward to it :)