The Story of Avery...

This is the tale of how The One Who Knows Everything came to be....

Late November, 1998. We had just lived through one of the worst days of our lives...we had survived the funeral of our first born son.

Jake and I had decided that we needed some time. We weren't exactly ready for parenthood when Joey came along. We were young...I was just 21 and Jake was 22. We decided that we needed to spend some time together, just he and I. Enjoy being newlyweds, travel, relax and regroup after the grueling year we'd had.

After the funeral, I slept for a week. When I say that...I mean it. I actually slept for a week straight. The days were so painful and I desperately tried to keep myself busy to keep my mind off of Joey. Keeping busy turned out to be nearly impossible. I was a stay-at-home mom...without my child.

The house was eerily quiet. There were no diapers to change...no bottles to warm...no cherub face to wake up to every morning. I mean...Jake is a handsome man...but cherub faced, he is not!!! It dawned on me one day...

The day that you become a mother...the day that precious bundle is placed in your arms...you tell yourself that you will be a mother forever. Until the day you die...you will mother this child. You do not allow yourself to even consider the thought of outliving this child...of losing the one who made you a mother.

I found myself, all of a sudden...not a mother anymore. It was sickening, sad and unnatural. I told Jake that I had to be a mom again. I couldn't wait...I couldn't busy myself with travel or a job. I could not "be" until I was a mother again. Jake could see the pain I was in and even though he really wanted to wait...he knew the maternal pull I was feeling was not to be ingored. Avery was conceived just 4 weeks after Joey died.

So, Avery...our smart, honest, LOUD, cautious, obedient, handsome Avery...our leader...the one who will do amazing things in his life...you were conceived out of longing and compassion...fear and sadness...but most of all, the undying love a mother has for her child. You resurrected me...you gave me hope and a reason to live.

You talking to me?

Many moons ago, when The One Who Knows Everything (later referred to as TOWKE) was a wee lad...and I'm talking wee...like 18 months old, or so...he started calling me Nikki. I think most kids do it at some point when they're learning that you are other things to other people...and not only their mom. We would correct him and say, "No, not Nikki, Momma." Well that kinda took a wrong turn somewhere and before long TOWKE was calling me, "Nikki the Momma."

It always reminded me of that show Dinosaurs. Do ya'll remember that show? When the baby would say, "Not the Momma, not the Momma," and beat the dad over the head with something. Wow...thank God for reality television, right??!!??

I later joked that 'Nikki the Momma' would be my name if I was a gangster. Instead of Tony Curtains, or Jimmy The Ape...you know what I'm talking about. What would your gangster name be?

Uncivilized...

No, my family is not being raised by apes. Lily requested a spaghetti dinner sans silverware for her birthday dinner and against my better judgement...I obliged. I dreaded it and couldn't fathom the mess that would be made, but to my surprise and really to my disappointment...they were no messier without silverware than if they had used forks for their meal. Hmmmm...interesting!

Vote now for the Shittiest Mom of the Year 2008!

This post is rated R...for strong sexual content.

Avery, my 9 year old, was playing outside yesterday with his buddy down the street...all was well. He then comes running in looking a little guilty, I didn't think much of it, and plops down on the couch and sits in front of a black tv screen...now I know he's guilty. The kid cannot lie to save his life!!! He has been cursed with an honesty gene...it does make it easy on me when my 3 start pointing fingers at each other when someone does something wrong. Avery cannot tell a lie.

Anyway, lo and behold, the doorbell rings...GASP! It's 4 little girls from down the street who range in age from about 10-13. They are soaking wet and muddy and have been playing in the rain and in mud puddles. They tell me..."Um, Ms. Bullock (damn I'm old), um, Avery and John (his name has been changed to protect him since he's a minor child), well, they were being mean, then John called us dumb asses and told us to..." here comes the R rated part..."he told us to suck each other's, well, these parts (she motions toward her flat chest where breasts will later be)". WTF!!! What do two little boys ages 7 and 9 know about girls sucking each other's boobs??!!??

Oh man...does the shit hit the fan!! I take a second to calm down so I don't rip all his hair out, out of anger. I confront him...he is still in front of the blank tv screen and his eyes are as big as golf balls. I give him a chance to tell me what he did wrong...but, he says, "I can't tell you, because it's a bad word and if I say it to you, I'll get in trouble." Now, this "playing dumb and innocent" actually works in his favor, because it reminds me that he is a very frightened little boy who is about to be tarred and feathered and he knows it!

I'll skip all the back and forth..."Tell me what you said!"..."No, I'm scared"..."You should be scared."..."Waaaaaaaaa"..etc, etc.... I send him to his room to wait for his punishment. I have found that this is one of the most effective punishments I can give my children. Sending them to their room to wait and wonder what in the hell I'm going to do to them. From what I can tell, it's torture.

I decide that first, and foremost, I should wash his mouth out with soap. I cut a 9 year old mouth-sized piece from the bar of soap and sit him on the tile, in case he pukes, to take his punishment. I tell him I want to see teeth marks in the soap. I sit him down, shove the soap in his mouth. I go to finish up dinner while he's washing up! I leave him there for about 15 minutes...he's gagging, and drooling and fidgeting, and moaning...I have him facing the wall and I ignore it all. Dinner is done and I go to remove the soap and tell Avery to go brush his teeth and get ready for dinner. His shirt is soaked from drool and he's sudsing at the mouth. He sits down to dinner, but won't eat because it's too hot. He pokes around at his food, then goes to bed.

I go to tell him goodnight and this picture is what I find. I don't know if it was just irritation, a chemical burn, an allergic reaction, or what...but, it looks awful and I almost...almost...felt sorry for him. Out of a mother's compassion...and guilt...I gave him a benadryl and some A&D ointment and kiss him goodnight.

Now...in my defense...we have these 3 teenage boys who live near us, who think it's funny and fun to teach the little kids these very adult words and phrases. Avery explained to me that that kid told them about the "sucking boobs" thing and "dumbass"...and John is a little bit mean and was saying this stuff to the girls and Avery kind of chimed in. I do believe Avery on this...he really can't lie...but, as a mom, I DO NOT want to believe that my child would come up with something like that...so I might be delusional. Regardless...Avery is grounded for a week.

So, men...ya'll are perverts and it starts at a VERY, VERY young age. I guess seeing the girls in a juvenile "wet t-shirt contest"...was too much for the boys and the fantasy of girl on girl action that is engrained in their DNA boiled to the surface WAY before I thought I would ever have to worry about that stuff. SERENITY NOW!

Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy

OK...Avery is 8 and last Christmas he was very suspicious of Santa Claus. Not quite believing that a fat man in fur slips down the chimney in the middle of the night and leaves them presents...he was on to us! So this year we decided that we should probably explain about the spirit of Christmas...yada, yada, yada and tell him that the whole Santa thing was all a hoax, but please don't tell his brother and sister.

Last week he is riding his Razor motorcycle with his helmet that Santa brought him a few years ago and he comes in to say.."Mom..Santa didn't bring this helmet..you and Dad bought it, look, the price tag is still on it!" What losers we are to leave the price tag on, right? So, not wanting to bold face lie, I said that Santa probably can't make helmets and maybe he got it at a store. I could tell by the look on Avery's face...he wasn't buying it. He says "Mom, Santa doesn't have any money...he couldn't buy it." I'm thinking...my boy is growing up...he's too logical and smart for fairy tales and make believe...the magic of his childhood is coming to and end. Just when I'm preparing to break the news to him...his eyes light up. This is what he says..."Oohhhhh...I know Mom...the Tooth Fairy bought it for him...she's LOADED!!"

So, the magic lives on and this Christmas Avery may copy the Tooth Fairy on his letter to Santa!