Terrible Yet Terrific Twos

To: My Little Cub


Wow. It's been awhile since I wrote, to you, about you, just wrote.
 I really cannot belive how much of a grown kid you appear to be these days. You speak. Regularly. You tell me how you feel, what you're thinking, what you did in school, what you remember happening, what you remember me saying. You follow rules without me telling you to. You say thank you, welcome and bless you on your own. You say excuse me after you burp (and fart! lol) without me reminding you to do so. We've come a long way!

 Two has been extremely fun and rewarding, yet...extremely challenging. As the oldest of five, I knew raising a child on my own would be a lot of work. But I can honestly say that I had no idea just how hard it would really be. I couldn't have imagined it. What can I say Baby Bear? You are quite the stubborn little guy. I'd like to think this means you'll be a very confident, strong, independent adult. A leader and a champion.

We went running this weekend, at a track in our neighborhood. I've been waiting for this day to come. You ran half a lap. Then walked, played ball and sat out for a break while I ran 5 more. You looked revitalized. I felt revitalzed. It was a nice soon-to-be spring day. I felt on top the world. The river running along side of us. New York City shimmering in the distance.  And my munchkin and I...together; experiencing life...as we'll continue to do.

Love,
Mama Bear

My Big Boy...

Date: October 2012

I've had many moments the past couple of months where I looked over at my munchkin and thought, holy canoli, he is not a baby anymore! These moments occur often...

Yesterday, I picked up my son from school and on our short walk to the car we passed by the very spot where we had seen a dog enter into an apartment building that morning on the way to school. "Doggy!" he shouted and pointed at the door to the apartment building. "Yes, that's right, the dog went in there." I responded. We kept walking and stopped in front of the pizza shop (I told him we'd have pizza for dinner). He ran inside and immediately found a seat and sat down. I smiled. He looked ADORABLE sitting in the chair with his legs dangling down, observing everyone around him. He no longer needs a highchair or booster seat at restaurants!

I ordered us two slices of pizza and asked the lady behind the counter to cut both in small slices. I sat down at the table next to my munckin. "No, mama! Over there!" Oh. He had picked out my seat across from him. "Ok Bubba, you want me to sit here, across?" He replied with his new most commonly used phrase, "Yeah." and then proceeded to grab my purse and place it on the seat next to him. We ate our pizza followed by a walk to the nearby park...it was a peaceful, pleasant evening with my little guy.

My Baby is T-W-O!

To: My Little Cub

Oh lowdy...my son is officially the big t-w-o! I remember your birth like it was yesterday; your slimy little self - so fragile, so new. We've come a long way; you and I, in these two years. You're now 33 inches tall and 35 heavy pounds. You are the tallest, yet youngest in your classroom. A big boy. A tall boy.

You are speaking pretty clearly now and have a pretty vast vocabularly. Last night you asked me for apple juice. Earlier today you said "Thank you, mama." So sweet. We have pretty expansive chats now...and arguments. You are still very determined and strong willed. You refused to let me dress you today. We spent 20 minutes arguing. Finally, I asked you to pick out the shirt you wanted to wear. You chose a football shirt. If only I would have known. I could have saved us 20 minutes.

Running, dancing, throwing balls and playing with cars...some of your favorites. You have a great arm and seem to be ambidextrous. We'll see if that sticks. You love The Wiggles and Sesame Street and say Ernie so adorably...."Uny" in that munckin voice I love so much.

You like to say hello and bye-bye to strangers. This summer a few popular songs stuck to you, Rihanna's "Oh nana", Ne-yo's "Hey!", all taught to you by your Titi "Exis".

You know the difference between "mama's car" and "Titi's car". Pure genius! At two. To get you to our car faster I say "Someone's trying to get into our car! We better stop them." And you run as fast as you can to our car yelling "My car! Mama's car!" My little hero.

Quite the charmer and silly toddler you are. I love you so enormously so. My sunshine and my rock. I look forward to growing "old" together. ;)

Loving you so freakin much it overwhelms me at times...

-Mama Bear

Does a kid NEED a father?

I've pondered this topic for a long time, always going back and forth on the answer. While I think it's wonderful and beneficial for a kid to have their father around; to raise them and teach them how to play ball or advise them on the male perspective of things, I don't think kids NEED a father. A father-like figure, yes. But there are many people who can play that role in a kid's life. In my son's case he has lots of "uncles" and wonderful grandfathers, as well as great uncles and even a great grandfather. He HAS male figures and positive male role models in his life, around him, often.

I usually don't let the fact that my son has 1 parent get me down. Usually. But, sometimes the father thing can get to me. The other day, at the local B&N, my son and I were reading (and playing) with books in the children's section. It was a delightful day. We had just come from enjoying a delish dinner with family and were relishing in the fact that it was early enough to visit a bookstore before bed. We sat in the children's section; browsing, running around. When I suddenly came across a book title that read: Why a Boy Needs a Father. I stopped in my tracks and glared at the book. I immediately felt sad and then...angry. Angry that books with these titles exist. Angry that one day my son might come across this same title when he's at reading age and feel the same sad way that I felt when reading this title. I quickly pushed the book to the back of the pile and moved: The Complete Single Mother to the front of the pile. I smiled to myself, feeling a tad bit better, and went back to chasing my little boy around the many aisles of children's books.

Serenity

Mom to Mom

I was on the subway the other day, riding alone = sans child, and noticed a woman struggling to get on with a huge stroller (like one of those super duper jogging strollers) and a gigantic suitcase. Lucky for her, someone (another mom) grabbed her suitcase and helped her get on the subway. She said thank you to the other mom and sighed. She looked tired, worn, beat. I empathized with her. She stretched her back backwards a few times, as if she was in a bit of pain. I'm sure pushing the ginormous stroller and suitcase through the subway station that morning was a pretty intense workout for her, for anyone. After stretching a couple more times, she reached over to the front of the stroller and said to her little girl (probably 1.5 years old), "Give mommy the keys sweetie." The little girl was playing with what appeared to be her house keys. The little girl said no, and pulled the keys further away from her mother's reach. The woman sighed and retreated behind the stroller. She looked up, defeated. I smiled empathetically. I have been there. As the subway approached the next stop the woman stood up taller and tried to gather her belongings. She struggled to push the stroller forward, while wheeling the suitcase from behind her. It was then that I noticed the big, gleaming rock on her left ring finger and paused. Any instinct to "feel sorry" for her evaporated. Yes, I empathized with her. But I didn't need to feel sorry for her.

My Heart

My heart: Sebastian. I love this little person so enormously so. I, or rather, we, have been having a difficult time lately. Separation anxiety. This little face here has been crying his eyes out and yelling "mama!" everytime I leave him. Heartbreaking. Really. An awful feeling for a working mother. I mean, I HAVE to go to work. It's just my munchkin and I. No one else to pay our bills and support us. I have to go. But look at this face. Isn't he the cutest? Wouldn't you try to never leave this little boy's side? ::sigh:: That's how I feel...every day. And yet almost every day, I have to leave him behind while I commute myself right into the city, to work. I had heard that right around the two year mark separation anxiety occurs. And yet, I was extremely surprised when it happened. Sebastian has been in daycare since he was 7 months old. That's more than a year now. And he never cries when I leave him at school. He, since the beginning, would just smile and wave. To suddenly experience him clinging on to my leg for dear life and chanting my name (mama, of course) made me tear up. I started to contemplate quitting work again (like when I came back from maternity leave). What would I have done to pay bills? Well, good question. Guess I didn't get that far in my thought process. But just as surprised as I was to witness Sebastian freak out when I had to leave him at school the past two weeks, I was even more surprised when suddenly both yesterday and today, he did the opposite. He smiled, waved and said "Bye bye, Mama." What? I stopped. I looked around. Was this a trick? Was he letting me go that easily? I smiled back. Said "Bye Baby." Kissed him on the forehead and slowly, quiety, started to walk towards the front door, holding breath, waiting for the sound of  his footsteps behind me. There were none. I reached the front door of the center, turned to peak at him and there he was, sitting contently with his buddies, eating his cheerios. Ok, this is good. Right? Right, I told myself as I walked to the bus stop feeling a mixture of relief and disappointment. Hmmmm.

Sebastian's Mom

I've been thinking a lot lately, about how wonderfully special it is to be Sebastian's mom. Initially, hearing someone refer to me as Sebastian's mom had a weird effect on me. I would immediately long for my old self, the me before being, simply put, knocked up. But something happened this second year as Sebastian's mom. An extremely rewarding feeling of pride now comes over me every time I hear someone say Sebastian's mom. And oddly, the other day at his school, when Izzie's mom (who I have known now for over a year) asked me what my name is, and introduced herself as Lea, I felt a little lopsided, a bit unbalanced. I no longer cared to be April. I no longer cared to know that Izzie's mom was Lea. All that mattered, and all that seems to continue to matter, is being Sebastian's mom. A mom to such a silly, active, happy, eager, bouncy little boy. My love for this little curly-topped boy, who cheered and pointed and bounced around excitedly this a.m. while we strolled through Times Square, is immeasurable. Being Sebastian's mom has become bigger and greater than any duty, job, role, responsiblity, I could ever undertake. This one position, as Sebastian's mom, outdoes everything. I once (or maybe several times) said (pre-baby) "I never want to be known as just someone's mom, I want to be more than that." A fool said those words. A naive girl who had no idea how big and proud an accomplishment being Sebastian's mom would be. So instead of reminiscing and wishing I was that girl again, I'm finally at a place in my single mamahood life where I can honestly say I'm content that I will never be that person again. That I am now, a new, better, wiser, stronger, more experienced person. And I'm so darn happy to be known as Sebastian's mom.

Single Mama Raising a Boy

It's an interesting thing, raising a boy solo, as a girl. I find myself wondering if it's okay that my son mimics me and wants to do things because I do them. For example, I find myself saying things like "Look Bubba, Mama has jeans. Sebastian has jeans." Or "You have cool sneakers like mama's sneakers." These statements seem to work to get him to want to wear his jeans or put his shoes on right then and there. He wants to be like Mama. And why shouldn't he? Right? Right?

This morning my son grabbed my blush brush and started putting bronzer on my face. It was cute, harmless. He was merely copying something he's seen me do every morning before we leave for school/work. He wanted to be helpful. He then grabbed my bracelets and put them on his little arm and held his arms up at waist level so they wouldn't dangle off. Extremely cute. The other day he tried to put my earrings on. They wouldn't stay, obviously, because he doesn't have his ears pierced. I don't mind that my son does these things. I know it's done out of simple curiousity and because this is what he's surrounded by at home, with me; only me. But I do wonder, what happens as he gets older and starts to see more boy-like things from others, from school mates. How will he learn to do "those" types of things well, when I may not be able to teach him (i.e. tie a tie, the rules of football)? Will he be well rounded enough? I do wonder about these things. But I don't dwell too much...or at least I try not to. After all, today after he put on my bronzer and eventually gave me back my bracelets, he ran to get his basketball and started bouncing it and throwing it around the hallway, laughing harmoniously each time it bounced against the air conditioner vent...leaving me standing there thinking "oh yes, I have a boy, alright."

19 Months

To: My Little Cub

20 months you turned on Saturday! Oh my, oh my, oh my. You seem to be passing me by! It's nutty how we adults stay the same but you wee ones spurt and learn a tremendous amount in the interim. Your size 18-24 pants are now extremely short on you. Your size 8 sneakers are snug.

This past month you really mastered jumping and climbing. You can walk up and down stairs pretty well now too. You had a couple of bad falls but you were a trooper. You are getting quite used to picking yourself right back up after a boo-boo. A tough little guy you are. Although, you are quite the dare devil too. That of course frightens me so. This past weekend you flipped your little couch upside down and pushed your little rocking bike over the side and proceeded to climb onto the bike to rock uphill!

You now say:  bubbles, titi, bye, go, cheers, up and down and 1 full sentence: I want that! Of course that would be your first sentence. You are a smart, ardent little one. You yell mama with so much fervor in your voice. It makes my heart smile.

This a.m. I heard you get scolded from the down the hall...followed by the sound of pitter patter rushing closer to me and then there you were hugging my legs. I appreciate that you acknowledge me as your protector...because I am; now and forever.

You can now open and close all the doors in the house with ease! Even the front door. This of course makes me extremely nervous.

A yucky thing you did this month: Dip your toothbrush in the toilet and proceed to brush your teeth! Sorry I didn't catch you in time!

Oh my beautiful boy. Mama loves you so...I thought I would miss the little wee baby you once were but I love you too much to miss anything about the past. I'm filled with so much love and pride today that yesterday doesn't matter. You keep me happy and hopeful about our future; about looking forward to your next big step.

Loving you dearly,

Mama Bear

When Grandma Comes to Visit

My Grandmother that is. Sebastian's Great Grandmother. She is in town from Puerto Rico and staying with us for a week or so. How special is it that my son gets to meet and hang with his Great Grandparents?! (A great thing about having young parents and young grandparents.)

There are several wonderful things about having Grandma over, let me share a few:

1. We get cafe con leche (me) and avena (Sebastian, the upstairs cousins and I) in the am before leaving the house to school and work! Yummy! Nothing like Grandma's good ol' fashioned oatmeal! There is something to her rendition of regular oatmeal that just never tastes the same made by anyone else. After a few days of this, Sebastian began heading straight to the kitchen upon waking up!

2. Our house feels like a full house...with a full family. I like my quiet time and I love my duo but there is something nice to be said about the feeling of a bustling house. It's warm and cozy in a different way. Neither being the better way - just different, nice.

3. There's another person to kiss goodnight before going to bed.

4. My bed is made when I get home from work. I don't know why it is but I am not a making the bed type of person. I'm just not. I make sure the house is always neat and tidy; but making the bed is never on my list. It's just something that doesn't bother me. But it must bother my grandma because everyday this week I've come home to my bed made up.

5. When my son falls and gets a boo-boo - the old school, Puerto Rican remedies come into play and save the day! Tuesday Sebastian fell pretty hard...tripped and hit the side of his forehead. A pretty bad bang. Red, scraped, bruised, bumpy. I thought for sure he'd wear the proof for a couple of weeks. But Grandma rubbed some butter and salt on the boo-boo and by the following day it was almost gone! Old wives tale maybe, but today, 4 days later, there is no sign of his boo-boo!

You have to love familia!

That Sunday Kind of Love

Sunday my munchkin and I went to Gymboree. It was a perfect day. The sun was out and shining bright. Sebastian and I were up early and in good spirits. We dressed in our comfy, cas, Sunday wear (Him in windbreaker pants and a Knicks T; Me in black leggings and a long sleeve T.) We had our sneakers on, our bag packed with snacks and a couple of cars and off we went to try a new Gymboree location in Jersey City. 

We found parking around the corner and right in front of a bakery and toy shop. It turned out to be a small class of 3, so Sebastian had the chance to run and explore as much as possible in the playspace. He climbed, he jumped, he rocked, he played basketball and climbed through the tunnels. This of course meant: I climbed, I jumped, I rocked, I played basketball and helped my munchkin climb through tunnels. It was an active morning! And it felt great!

We left the class, hand in hand and walked over to the bakery and toy shop. I couldn't resist. We walked around and I immediately wished I could buy everything in the store. Sebastian must have wished for the same thing because he immediately ran over to a little munchkin size shopping cart and starting putting trucks and cars into the cart! (Do I need to tell you that it wasn't easy getting Sebastian to leave the toy shop?) A couple of cries, a few kicks and we managed to leave the toy shop without having to file bankrupcy. We went into the bakery for some after breakfast snacks and sat outside at one of their cafe tables, sipping a latte (me) and eating yogurt (Seb), while we waved and said hello to a nearby dog. Ahhh. A nice, simple, Sunday afternoon, at an outdoor cafe with my munchkin.

We arrived home just in time for nap time with me feeling proud and accomplished. I was proud of our little duo. We make a good team, my son and I; making me happier than mere words can describe. :)

18 Months

To: My Little Cub

Oh, my dear little munchkin, you are growing way too rapidly! You turned 19 months last week! 5 months away from the big t-w-o. It gives me goose bumps just thinking about it.

This was definitely a milestone month. 18 months is an apparent mark in cognitive development and understanding. You really know things and can figure things out so easily. (You can reach the door handles and open doors! Trouble!) You're officially not an infant, but a tot! You look and act like a little boy. I'm sad to say goodbye to the little baby I was introduced to, that shocking, surprising fall day in 2009. But I'm so happy to welcome such a smart, mature, little munchkin into this life of mine. I'm excited for us; for all that's in-store.

This month you started saying more words...up, down, papa (for grandpa), nene (for Nael), car, vroom, bobo, dog...added to your ball, hello, uh oh, oh no, mama, dada. I just love hearing your little squeaky voice. And hearing you call me "mama" when I enter a room. Love, love, love this. 

At our doctor's appointment a few weeks ago you measured 33.5 inches tall and 29.5 pounds. You're in the 95 percentile for height and weight. A big boy. Tall. Solid. You are officially half of my height. A kid. My kid.

We took family portraits this past weekend. You and I. Our little family. I love to repeat that. To call you and I, a family. Because we are one. We don't have to be 3 + to be a family.  The 2 is good enough; is good as is; is a nice, even number. 

We had a sweet, silly weekend, this past one. Running around, laughing. Lots of laughing. We are a silly pair, a silly family.  Your father would be happy to know this...that we remained a silly bunch, despite our heartache. I owe that to you my little cub. You make laughing easy. ;) 

Loving you tremendously,

Mama Bear

Toddlers as Conversation Starters

Sebastian and I are back from Miami. It's bittersweet to be home. We had a great time in South Beach, splashing around at the beach and running through the sand, but glad that Sebastian is back to his regular sleeping schedule and eating habits. No more staying up late on school nights for awhile.

But I noticed an odd thing while traveling and staying hotel bound for a few days. Maybe it's the cuteness of my particular kid (heehee) or maybe it's that a kid (in general) is a good conversation starter. But either way, I have to say that Sebastian and I seemed to beckon random attention from random strangers. Mostly men. Who knew?

It started shortly after arriving to La Guardia for our departing flight. In line, at the Duncan Donuts, a tall man began talking to Sebastian about his Hot Wheels. He literally bent down and started a (one-sided) conversation with my little guy. I smiled  politely but a bit uncomfortably. I proceeded to order my cappuccino and subtly pushed Sebastian's stroller out of the man's direct line of sight.

"Your son is adorable." The man suddenly said. "How old is he?"   

"Thanks. He's 18  months." I responded to the man and then directed my attention to my son. "Here we go Bubba, time for our flight."

I smiled politely at the man, wished him a good day and quickly headed toward the security check. Whew: A quick and easy out.

A few minutes later at security, the fellow checking my ID smiled and said hello to Sebastian. I smiled back, he smiled at me. We walked on toward the check point eventually coming to a security attendent who stopped in front of Sebastian and started talking to him about his "bobo" (aka pacifier).

"Oh, you don't need that bobo little guy. You're too big for that."

I attempted to smile politely although this is one subject I'm not too keen on having with strangers. The security looked at me and started telling me about his son who is now a teenager. I managed to be polite while keeping my responses short and eventually made my way through the security check and off to my gate.

Once inside the plane and *comfortably seated, Sebastian and I sat and waited for the plane to fill up. All the while I kept my fingers crossed as I hoped that the seat beside us, in the center of our row, would remain empty. A few minutes later I discovered we had no such luck as a guy who looked to be in his 20's stopped in front of our row to put his bag in the overhead compartment and squished into the seat next to us. Darn. I silently prayed that he liked kids while I entertained Sebastian with the tiny window that was overlooking the plane's right wing.

Shortly into the flight, Sebastian dropped his car into the gentleman's lap. Oops.

"Here you go, little guy." The guy said and smiled. 

"Sorry." I said.

"You're good." The guy replied. Whew. He seemed to like kids.

We did end up having a conversation, the stranger next to us, and I, most of which consisted of talk about my kid or kids in general. The flight ended with Sebastian's feet touching our new friend's leg and my coffee on the stranger's tray. (You have to love the closenses of these darn airline seats.) But with a "Nice meeting you" and an exchange of FB names, Sebastian and I were off on our adventure in MIA.

Once at our hotel and seated at the hotel restaurant for brunch, another conversation was started about my son and his magical curls by the waiter/GM of the hotel. Interesting. Has my son really  become the way to every strangers heart? Hmmm.

*there's really only so much you can do to get comfortable in a tight airplaine seat with your 30 pound, 33.5 inch toddler on your lap.

We are off to Miami...

We are off to Miami this weekend and part of next week. I'm so excited to be getting away and to finally (after 3 months of coat wearing) get a chance to wear a few sundresses! Of course my little guy will be dressed in some cool summer outfits as well. We've spent the past 2 months prepping for this 5 day trip. (I know, it sounds silly, but it's true!) Sebastian has a new spring/summer wardrobe a la plaid shorts and pastel colored Ts. Oooh. I can't wait to dress him up! I'm getting excited just picturing his little spirally self looking all cute and hip. (Do I need to say how much I love shopping for and dressing up my boy? heehee)

Along with our new, revamped wardrobes, we have some must take travel items as well: cars and trucks! Yes, a handful of Sebastian's little cars and trucks will be making the trip to Miami with us. With this new obsession for little vehicles having recently surfaced, we can no longer leave the house with less than 2 Hot Wheels or Little People cars. Is he his father's son or what? Today, on the way to school, he kept looking down at his little navy sweater with a red race car painted on the front, smiling and saying "vroom, vroom!" I am loving these new little stages of awareness. It's the cutest. :)

And so, in less than 24 hours, Sebastian and I will be vroom, vrooming in the air, en route to some sun, sand, and warm salty water! Yay!

When Your Child Has A Meltdown: And So Do You

My son tends to flip out pretty easily. I'm not quite sure why this is so. But it is. And he does. He has a pretty easygoing personality and is typically very mellow. However, every now and again he loses it and really flips. I'm finding as he gets older, the meltdowns are more dramatic. And I can't lie - they scare me. I've been fortunate so far that the meltdowns tend to occur only at home, when it's usually just he and I. It usually happens during dinner time and is usually because of something food related (although he can get pretty upset playing with toys (i.e. when he can't figure them out)). Last week it was because I gave him pizza with mushrooms. Turns out he doesn't like mushrooms (anymore). He grabbed his slice of pizza, while sitting in his high chair, tasted a mushroom, started to scream and cry (yes, there were tears involved) and threw the pizza across the room. A few weeks back it was because he wanted a donut from a box on the counter, which I had no idea he knew was there. He screamed, cried, threw himself on the floor and didn't stop until he had a donut in his hand. And even then, he was out of breath from the crying and it took him a few minutes to "calm down." Last night, as I attempted to serve him dinner (pasta with marinera sauce) he suddenly flipped out - threw the bowl and the spoon across the room and started screaming and crying and flailing his arms at me. I didn't know what to do. I tried to tell him it was okay. I tried to guess what had triggered this episode. I couldn't. I didn't know. I held him tight and just hugged him, all the while repeating "It's okay, it's okay." The crying and screaming continued. I finally found his pacifier nearby and that seemed to calm him. We sat there on the couch near his highchair, me hugging him tightly, rocking him while he worked on catching his breath and suddenly I had a meltdown. I couldn't help the tears from trickling down my face. So there I sat, sobbing. I felt helpless. My son was upset because he wanted something; something I couldn't figure out. He was bothered by something that I just didn't get. Something I missed. I hate that I can't help him at every difficult moment. I hate that I don't always understand him and know what he is trying to tell or show me. I hate that these moments take place; where my son is distraught and I am incapable of reading his little mind and making his distress go away.

Moms

There is this interesting yet weird dynamic between moms of kids that attend the same daycare. I noticed it those first weeks when Sebastian started daycare. Although, I couldn't put my finger on it at first. But there is an unspoken mom code. An ambiguous bond between moms...or parents for that matter. I don't have to be asked to look out for another mom's child. But I do. I watch, I pay attention, I notice. We look out for eachother in that sense without having to be told to. I guess because we want the same in return. Someone to have our back too and let us know if something is awry at the center or with our child(ren). And now that my son has been at his daycare for a year, I have come to "know" the other moms and dads that drop off their kids in his classroom. Niceties and pleasantries are often exchanged. Chit chat about our kids; how well they play together, how they got upset when one was on vacation, apologies when our child is responsible for hurting another, etc. But there is an oddness about it. About the fact that no one knows eachother by name.  That we only know eachother in this world. This world of signing in your kid, hanging his bag on his cubby hook, putting his ready made lunch in the fridge, setting up his breakfast, sharing toys with other kids and asking about diapers and naps. An oddness about the fact that outside of being (i.e. Sebastian's) "mom" we don't exist to eachother and don't even know one another's name. This morning for example, on the bus to the city, I noticed Izzie's mom was sitting in the seat in front of me and Tyler's mom was sitting in the row across from me. I looked at them, one reading a newspaper, the other checking email on her iphone, and almost said hello. Almost. But took out my book instead and decided, like them, I needed to take advantage of this 20 minute commute to work. After all, for us moms, this might very well be the only 20 minutes out of the day we get for down time. Instead of attempting a conversation, I joined in on the "me" time, read my book and enjoyed every second of that 20 minute commute where I wasn't Sebastian's mom but April...reading a book on the way to work.

17 Months

Dear My Little Cub,

Wow. You are officially 18 months old now. You sprinted right through that 17th month. This was a month filled with lots of fun and playdates. You weren't sick (thank goodness) and got to enjoy time with friends (our playdate with Ella and Jack, with E at Chuck E Cheese, with Julianna and Leah in LI, with Sophia at McDonalds, with Archer and Julianna at Woodbury Commons).

We did hit a major milestone this month. You graduated from the nursery to the toddler room at school. A whole 5 weeks early. You are now the youngest kid in the toddler room. But no one would ever be able to guess that. You are just as fast and wise as the others. I did raise an eyebrow though the first day I picked you up from the toddler room to find you playing with dolls and the next day playing with a tea set. But found a little relief in the fact that the following week you were pushing trucks around instead. So many new toys in the toddler room. Exciting times for you ahead.

Still not much talking going on but you understand everything. And I do mean everything. You are also very good at helping out and putting things away. Although, you are still really good at making messes too. You know where your hair, your nose, eyes, mouth and tummy are. You know who mama is and even who dada is. You try to put your shoes and socks on but still need help. You like to say "no, no, no" in your little munchkin voice that I love so much. I still can't seem to conjure up the strength to get you sleeping in your own bed. I can't help that I love cuddling up next to you at night and smelling your milky, baby skin. You are the sweetest most precious being that I have ever encountered. You have the most amazing giggle that sounds better than any music my hears have heard. You are so magical in every sense. I love you more each moment that passes...

Love,
Mama Bear

Growing up...

I know - they grow up. Infants. Babies. Toddlers. Kids. I know this. I expected this. But why am I having such a hard time with the fact that my little munchkin is starting in the big boy room at school tomorrow. He will no longer be in the baby room. No more crib. I'm a bit numb. Dumbfounded even. I just can't believe 17 + months have passed. I mean my little guy still wears footie pajamas. Doesn't that count for something? Doesn't that mean that he's still a baby? Un bebe? sigh. Just having a hard time with this one. Even though I know that come tomorrow he will be having a ball in the big boy room. Playing with all the new toys. Making new friends. I know this. But it's not him - it's me. It's all me. The mama having a hard time letting bits and pieces of the baby...go.

Single-parent households: Are they that bad?

I was at a volunteer arts day yesterday working on art projects with kids between 8-10 years old. The coordinator said something during the introduction to the volunteers that struck a chord with me. It was something along the lines of "these kids don't get to do stuff like this everyday - many come from single-parent households". Now, I do understand that often times in a single-parent household the mother works and doesn't usually have as much time to spend working on random projects and activities with the kid(s) compared to say a stay at home mom. But, why the constant stereotype that says: if a kid is raised by a single-parent they are worse off? What about the two-parent households that have two working parents? Or where there are other problems taking place? Aren't those worse off? Yes, I work Monday - Friday which means my son spends about 9 hours at daycare everyday. Yes, I wish I had more time during the week to play with him and work on "art" projects. BUT I do have evenings and weekends. And I do spend time playing with paint and crayons, taking my son to museums and play areas, reading to him, talking to him, teaching him. I really don't think we spend less time on these things compared to other families. I know raising a kid in a single-parent household is not ideal, I get that - I know the struggle. But it really isn't the worse thing that could happen. It doesn't mean that my son is at a disadvantage. Yes, it could mean that, but it doesn't have to. And in the case of my son and I - it is not the case. My son has family other than myself, grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles. He has many people to spend time teaching him things and working on projects with him. I really hope he is not seen as a kid with a disadvantage or that people feel sorry for him. Because despite, not having his father around, my son is a very lucky boy and will not go without. My little boy will have lots of time to spend working on art projects. Unless, of course, he decides playing sports or singing is a lot more fun....(I could have given birth to the next Kobe or Ne-yo!).  ;)