Forgive me.

The BF has been in town. This = less desire to be out in the real world. This includes blogging. I've been bad.

Plus there's that whole getting ready for Christmas thing. I don't even want to think about it. I've gotten several small gifts for the small monster. And I do feel guilty because I know others will spend more money on him than I do. But it's not about the money or the presents. It's about... wait, what's it about?

I won't be spending Christmas with my son. I told his dad that he could have him for Christmas. It was my charitable moment of the year. It was actually quite hard and I was left with this small wound in my heart. I want my son for each and every Christmas, but I know that won't happen. And I hate to see him having to bounce to and fro on Christmas day.

But I did recover from the small wound. Mostly because I booked a flight to visit the BF for Christmas. That's me, the trashy single mom, pawning off her child so that she can flit around in other countries with her boyfriend. Yep. That's me.

Blessed

I am blessed with a wonderful child. Sure he has his moments. And when he has those moments I hold my breath and count to 1567, but for the most part, he's a sweetie. He's mamma's baby. Oh wait, he's mamma's "big kid" now. He's three and the biggest extroverted three that you can find. As I've been told recently... the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Every morning I wake up to hear M. softly calling "mommy" and although I don't like leaving my warm bed, I know when I go sit on his bed, he'll begin to tell me about his dream - as if I'd been there, which I probably was. "Wemember mommy? Wemember we played football and Santa was on my team?" And I'll nod and smile and we'll head off to the living room to turn on cartoons, eat a poptart and cuddle for a few minutes. The mornings are very sweet.

I have to go to work , but I'll try and keep up the blogging. Pwomise.