Stayin Alive

Anyone who knows much about my firstborn, whom I like to refer to as my bursting ball of Brigham, knows that he can be handfull. He is darn smart--genius level if you ask his parents--super determined and full speed ahead. He has one speed and one volume and usually a one track mind--ALL BOY. These are all great and wonderful things if used correctly, but also very challenging things for his mother when she is spending some of the most important and difficult moments of Brig's life watching after a little brother too--no second guessing here on the family planning because I can't imagine my family any other way, just saying it has been a challenge.

As a mom of young kids, I fully believe that babies and especially toddlers come to us pre-programed with natural defensive, or even better, survival mechanisms, to ensure they stay alive long enough to start picking up after themselves and earning money. I am not a full-fledged Darwin groupie but I do believe that parts of survival of the fittest ring true in toddlers. Now I have to admit that there have been times, especially during these single mom shifts, when toddlerhood hits my bursting ball of Brig hard and I am left feeling like I am just going to burst. These are the days that it is a good thing for Brig he is so darn cute.

Lately though, it has been more than his cute little smile that has keeps him king of the sandbox around here. Brigham is saying more and more of the funniest things. This is totally a survival mechanism, like how beautiful babies are when they sleep, because somehow Brigham knows that funny and sweet things will prolong his life, especially when daddy is gone and mom needs all of the help with funny that she can get.

Brigham still tells me that I look like a princess every Sunday when we go to church. I am finding that I rather depend on his little compliments, especially because he says them with such a little smile and cock of his head. Heartthrob in the making.

Anytime Brig sees me walking around in my workout clothes he will comment on my clothes and anything cool on my shirt and then he will say, "Mommy so kinny. You so kinny, mommy." In my thirties, having two kids in 15 months and being told and cannot run anymore--not feeling so skinny. But it is kind of nice to have a cute boy tell me that, even if he is only two. And Brig is yet still alive.

Any and all moms who have had to spend Sundays at church without their husbands in their pews for whatever reason know that sacrament meeting can be the longest hour of life with young kids. I often wonder if Brigham is getting anything out of this time other than a constant barrage of the "teacher look" from his mom, but the other week it dawned on me that he might actually be listening a little. Someone got up to the pulpit and said, "Brothers and Sisters" to which Brigham responded in a loud voice, "My brother Mackay Moo right here. See." as he pointed to his brother. He has said the same thing several times since then and it makes me smile. He is listening; there is hope.

And now is when daddy would think of something funny or clever or just plain outrageous to say but mommy is tired and not thinking clearly anymore (if at all). So I will just end this post as Brig ends most of his conversations,

"Bye. See you later. I lub you."