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.