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.