KIDS Are Like a Box of Chocolates...

I have been a single mother since the day my son, Trent, was born. Each and every stage claimed to be the most challenging, but I soon realized that staying up all hours of the night with a crying infant was... Well, those were the good days.

By the time Trent reached his first birthday, I thought I was in for an easy ride.. He was walking and beginning to talk. I thought my life had just become a whole lot easier.. I mean after all, I had carried around an extra twenty pounds that entire year, and the legs on that weight had learned how to walk. No one ever told me that when they start walking, they also start getting into things, ripping apart your Tupperware cabinets, taking all of your clothes out of your drawers and ripping down every nice blouse you own straight from it's hanger leaving a Cheetos stained hand-print on your favorite blouse right next to the big wet mark where they took a sip of their fruit punch and then shoved it into their mouth and began to gnaw at it with red stained drool seeping into the beautiful fabric.

Age two brought with it many pleasures, but with each one, there seemed to be a coinciding challenge that came with it. Trent had finally laid off of eating my silky blouses. All of his teeth were in and he no longer needed that very expensive teething cloth that mommy had kept hidden away nicely on an hanger in her closet. He was also potty trained! No more diapers? Woo hoo, now I'm going to have it easy! After two weeks of not having an accident, I decided it was time to celebrate. I called my closest friend Stacee, and told her to load up her baby (who is one year younger than Trent) and meet us at Friendly's in an hour and a half. Once Trent was dressed, I popped Barney into the DVD player and hopped into the shower. I remember getting out of the shower and searching through my entire bathroom at least three times looking for my make up bag. After 10 minutes of M.I.A makeup madness, I walked into the play room to check on Trent, only to find that he was not actually watching Barney. Instead, he took my makeup bag from my bathroom, brought it into his, and was repeatedly applying lipstick and mascara to his entire face, and I instantly yelped a dreadful "Nooooo!!", which spooked him and caused him to stab himself in the eye with the mascara. Thirty minutes later, he had stopped crying about is eye, and was finally clean. I threw on a sundress, forgot about the makeup, and sped off to Friendly's where Stacee had been waiting for nearly an hour. By the time our food was ready, Trent and I had already made five trips to the potty (without actually using it). This continued through the entire dinner which I finally just got a To-GO container for. That night as I was laying in my bed, I reflected back on that day and laughed in exhaustion. What I did not realize was that this was going to be my every day life for at least the next year.

Trent just recently turned three, and now has a male role model in his life. He has learned a lot for such a tender age but I think I have learned even more in the past three years. I think it is safe to say that being a mother is not only the hardest job in the world, but the most surprising. With each age, it truly is (as Forrest would have said), "Like a box of chocolates.. You NEVER know what you're gonna get".. So now I am just waiting for that next flavorless surprise that no mom has ever dared to tell another mother about their children at age three. Bring it on!