What will I tell him?

One day, Xavier will be a man. Even sooner, he will be a teenager or preteen struggling to come to grips with who he is in the world. As his mother, I feel it's my responsibility to teach him about the world before it schools him. So, on days like today, I wonder what I will teach him and when. With the realization that he's part of a group of children who have never known a country at peace, what will I say to him about the war that he's grown up in and that he was born into?

I've looked at pictures, from all over the world, and they're celebrating this death. But, what is it that they're happy for? Is what has happened to our country, several countries around the world, and countless human beings over the last 10 years worth it? Is this really a victory? How can I tell him about the war when I never understood why it started? How can I tell him that today because some faraway "bad guy" was killed, he's safer? Most importantly, how can I tell him that it's over?

I hope one day my son forgives my lack of patriotism and doubtfulness, but the scars of war run deep and its legacy is long lasting. We have a lot of work to do to rebuild and I'm not sure it will ever be finished.

20 reasons I love my son

Sometimes, being a parent sucks. It sucks when you're so tired, but you still have to wash the dishes. It sucks when you're lonely and worried, and your little one thinks it's the perfect time to act up. It sucks when you're sick, and you really wish that someone was there to care for you. It sucks when all you want to do blow a whistle, call time out, and realize that life doesn't work that way.

So, using your inferential skills, you can probably detect that this past week has just been difficult.


My old CC coach told us about the 24 hour rule, and it's time to put it to use. You have 24 hrs to gloat or be gloomy about whatever it was that made you so, then back to work on that ultimate goal of yours. So, maybe my goal has shifted from running a killer 5k to raising a loving, considerate young man... but the same rule applies. Rather than pull an Eeyore, here are 20 reasons I love my son:

1. Belly on feet - Xavier has an obsession with bellies, specifically mine. Ever since he was teeny, he's enjoyed putting his very cold feet on my very warm belly.

2. random kisses - Every once in a while, I get smothered with kisses. It's like a bell goes off reminding him that mommy likes kisses.

3. The flying hug - Every day, I get a hug at the end of the day. I get down on one knee and open my arms, Xavier takes a flying leap and lands with a "umph" as he almost knocks me over.

4. "thank you mommy" - He says thank you without being prompted when I do something nice for him

5. open door conversations - Xavier has no inhibitions about conversations in which 1 person is in the washroom and the other isn't. (See number 7)

6. maybe when I'm ... - When he's 15, Xavier will ride a motorcycle, but he'll wait til 24 or 25 to have alcohol or wine with mommy.

7. "you have a gina" - A holdover from potty training, Xavier knows basic anatomy. He knows mommy doesn't have a penis. Just today, he said, "oh I forgot, you don't have a penis, you have a gina". Yes, my son will be that kid.

8. Split popsicles - they're better shared.

9. Serenades from the backseat - He's a fan of Bruno Mars, so I've heard "Marry You" from the voice of a 3 year old.

10. Ackcashee - "Actually", this is one of my favorite words that he says. He uses big words in everyday conversation.

11. Gian Cific ocapus - He's watched the "shark vs. octopus" on youtube so many times, I've lost count. He's still really interested in nonfiction about animals and always manages to impress adults with his knowledge about many different land and sea animals or... "aminals".

12. Dr. Seuss - Xavier likes Oh the Places You'll Go. enough said.

13. Charleston - he likes to lead me around on the dance floor or the living room and likes to do side by side Charleston. I love it. :)

14. Pillowfights and giggles - Saturday mornings could start with an hour of cuddling, or a 15 minute pillow fight.

15. curling up on my lap - Without fail, he just curls up in my lap like it's another seat anytime there's a book or movie.

16. Transformers and Tom and Jerry - He appreciates old versions of things... He seriously loves Tom and Jerry clips from the 40s and the 80s transformers.

17. Washing dishes - these become water fights quickly.

18. "That ok, ackkissidens happen" - without fail, every time he says this, I feel better.

19. snoring - As I'm writing this, I can hear him snoring from the other room... he's always snored, but there's nothing sweeter than baby snores.

20. Thumb - He's changed so much from when I first brought him home from the hospital, that sometimes the only visible connection to his babyhood is that he still sucks his thumb. It's always his left thumb, because his right hand is always playing with his belly button. (see #1)



Bottom line: No matter what happens, I'm always going to love my little guy. :)

Saturday night...

Last night, we found our new family tradition. I think something that would hold us together had been missing in our duo since the move. It had become "what am I going to do with Xavier?", rather than "what are we going to do together?" Now, I think we've found something that fits perfectly. Our Saturday night picnic and a movie will be a thing of monumental family proportions.

The day started off rather dull and without much get up and go. We didn't leave the house until 1 to run errands. Xavier fell asleep in the car, we were very indecisive, and then we made it home. We had stopped by the redbox, and picked up Despicable Me. I'm thinking, yay, yet another kids' movie.

A couple hours of goofing around pass and it just hit me that maybe we should get the movie started, but that we hadn't had dinner. However, there's no eating on the new couch. It was getting dreadfully close to the tired beyond all reason threshold. Solution: Picnic on the floor. In front of the TV. We laid out the green serape that my brothers and I used to fight over 20 years ago, ate sandwiches off paper plates, and had a lovely time.

They're so little only once. I won't be able to hold him in my arms forever. He won't willingly eat on a blanket spread out on the living room floor with his mom when he's 15. So, forgive me, but there is nothing I would rather do than spend my Saturday night with my little man.

The process of reinvention

Every once in a while, the universe collapses, or so it seems.

In the last 3 months, our stable lifestyle has seen some shake-ups. Xavier was thankfully with my parents while I had the pleasure of moving on short notice, and changing childcare providers. In addition, I had the pleasure of having my wallet stolen and dealing with my aging parents' health. So far, 2011 has come out swingin'.

However, there's always a benefit to big changes - appreciation of what you do have. I can honestly say that I would not have made it through the last few months without the support of my friends, colleagues and family. I've learned that fair weather friends don't stick around when it gets tough, and I've learned that some of those people who I thought were fair weather, were actually really truly at my side.

So... this year brings with it the practice of gratitude. I'm grateful for everyone, and I mean everyone, who brings that positive energy my way. Whether it's the person who I get breakfast from at 57th and the lake, or the colleague who always smiles and says hello, or the fellow single mama friend who calls and checks in on me, they make this marathon of parenthood bearable.

So with these big changes comes a chance to reinvent who I am and how I see the world. It also brings with it, a new Xavier. He's almost 4... and boy is there a difference between 3 and 4.

So... here are some changes:

Xavier and I sit down and eat together, but now, before we eat, we share a toast and tell each other what we're grateful for. Xavier always goes first, and usually manages to throw in a quip about what he wants for his birthday.

I've stopped feeling guilty for being a parent (who isn't perfect with a child who isn't perfect) and embraced the moment. Xavier is actually remembering things that he wouldn't before. He's at the age in which, he will remember this time of his life. There is no reason why he shouldn't enjoy as much of it as possible. I won't let the critical non-parent or critical and vocal parent get me down - Xavier's only going to be this young once. There's no sense in an overanalysis of all ways in which I fail at being the best.

We do what Xavier wants to do... way more often. He has a voice. He has to learn to use it. Now that Xavier can vocalize what he needs and have those needs met by anyone who speaks English - not just Mommyese, he's learning to express himself. Case in point: 3 weeks ago... I gave him a mohawk. He loves it. I love it. He asked me for it. If he hadn't asked, it wouldn't have happened. He wouldn't have asked for that 2 months ago.

There's only one thing that hasn't been altered even in the slightest in the last few months - and that is that no matter what, I will always love and being there for my son.

Family Traditions

All of the holiday cheer makes me feel rather... scroogish. Ask any of my students and they would agree. Especially those who see me scowl at the PA that sings carols during precious instructional time. Every year, I feel the carols of commercialism and forced gift giving beckoning around Halloween, and I try to ignore them until about December 20th. However, the holidays are important for children to experience. Xavier has to get a sense of bigger family traditions and togetherness.

Even though typical traditions tend to bother me, there are some traditions that I think are wonderful. I dislike Santa on the grounds that I firmly dislike lying to children about anything. However, I do participate in the local giving tree which benefits a local homeless shelter and I used to help my mom organize the tree at our old parish. I don't believe that giving gifts is something just to be done because it's a certain day - but that it should be meaningful and based on what you know about the person. Yet, we all forget, the only real gift that matters is time. Time spent together, time celebrated for each moment.

Growing up, the traditions that I most remember and care about were the ones in which we were all together. Or, were just funny. For example, putting up the tree and then wrestling with my older brother with the tree looming precariously above us, much to the disgruntled concern of our parents. "If that tree falls on you..." in a false threatening tone that showed my mothers annoyance more than her concern. If the holidays are really supposed to be about togetherness, then shouldn't we be celebrating the sibling rivalry and frustrations we try to keep down throughout the year?

Given that Xavier's an only child, Xavier and I are scoping out atypical approaches to this time of year. {READ: Mommy's trying not to lose her sanity or credit score over this time of year.} So this year, Xavier and I are having family time together - just the two of us - and doing some fun things...


There are the typical traditions that we've done this year such as: baking cookies, making crafts, making ornaments, day after T-Day shopping, going to the cinema with siblings, and having a snowball fight after the first real snow. Those are things that you can post pictures of, but pictures won't have the same fuzzy glow around the edges that comes with a strong memory.

However, I hope that Xavier remembers the more atypical traditions such as: feeding bison at a ranch, going horseback riding, or learning how to climb at the sports fest. We'll definitely go back to the Buffalo Ranch because we had so much fun. I think it will become a yearly or maybe more often tradition. When Xavier was riding the horse (with a lead guiding the horse) he was truly smiling. Just like when we fed the bison, he was really enjoying himself and we were enjoying each other. It's so easy to become frustrated with a 3 year old who can throw a tantrum or just ignore your very important instructions, but it's also so wonderful to be there for a lot of his first real memories.

Yes, it's hard to get in the holiday spirit. Yes, I know too much about commercialism and tend to be cynical about it. Yes, getting the right gifts for every person is a pain! However, no, I wouldn't let Xavier miss out on anything like family time, and especially not quirky traditions. Those are the ones that matter most.

He's smooth...

Dinnertime in the kitchen of our flat is never quiet or calm. Usually pots and pans are composing their own symphony of spice and sizzle. All while Xavier is providing the beat on the garbage cans with his improvised drumsticks. The radio is on and tuned to the oldies channel as we prepare dinner, eat and clean up. It's time for us to reconnect after the day is done. Sometimes there's a toast with wine, sometimes there's just cheers with apple juice.

What I love most about dinner is the music. The troubles of the present day fade away with the sounds of the past. One night this past week, Xavier and I are dining in. The Eagles come on with "Take it Easy". Xavier says "this is a good song" and we dance. He's doing a 3 year old version of break dancing and I'm just moving around the kitchen.

Then, Xavier leads me into the middle of kitchen starts to dance with me. He's charming. He asks for my hands... and we're partner dancing.


My 3 year old son is leading me around the kitchen. ...And doing a really good job of it.


After a while at being frustrated with the height difference, he moves from typical partner dancing ... to Charleston. My son is leading me in side by side Charleston. He has arm wrapped around the top of my leg and we're doing the Charleston... to the Eagles... in the kitchen. My heart is melting at this moment.


Possibly the hardest part of being a parent is that your life, and specifically your social life, goes from great to nonexistent. When I had Xavier, I gave up dancing, "temporarily". I can't go to a social dance that starts at 10pm when my little boy will be up at 6 am... and I miss it. Dancing had become so important to me while I was in college because it provided me a forum to be social and exercise without forcing myself to be social or forcing myself to exercise. I went dancing every week. However, moments like this remind me that it's just a temporary absence. Even if it feels like life marches on without me, I find myself dancing in my kitchen with my young son.

My 3.5 year old Monster

Halloween goods are at 75% off. Aisles have switched from orange and black to red and green. The aftermath of vampires, goblins and ghouls has led to many a conversation with my little Ironman about... Monsters. Who knew that monsters are such an interesting topic to a three year old? Who knew that vampires were of interest to the preschooler and not just to the preteen?

Xavier's transition to his new room has been hindered by his fears of a) being alone b) weird sounds c) the dark and d) monsters. He asks me if I can sleep with him, even if just for a little bit. On his first night in his room, we looked in every imaginable place to find monsters and didn't find any. We even talked about scary weird noises and attributed them to the washer, the radiator, even the refrigerator, but not monsters. Xavier knows that monsters do not exist. At least, I've told him they don't, even though my conscience sighs when I lie.

How do you explain to your child that the monsters he's afraid of aren't the ones that he should be afraid of? The monsters that climb into bed with him and interrupt his sweet dreams aren't the ones to cry about. They're nothing compared to debt, loneliness, political corruption, fear, victimization, abandonment, inequality, and crime. Yet, to explain the monsters I see, and that I'm afraid of, would be to corrupt his innocence.

So, when he says he slept well because he didn't see monsters, I smile. My heart smiles at his innocence. When he wants me to stop something and says, "the monsters will hear you", there's no way that I can refuse. I suppose I can only take comfort when he says, "Mommy, the sounds aren't monsters. They're Jane." (our upstairs neighbor) At least the radiator isn't so scary anymore.