my baby

As I glance around the room of my soon to be 4 year old,  I can see relics of his time as a baby fading away. Gone are the framed foot prints and mobile that hung by and on his crib. Instead a personalized Superman print is prominently displayed above his "big boy" bed. Gone are the polka dot crib sheets, the glider, and the soft stacking blocks. Only the 3 sketches of stuffed animals remain. The art that I found, fell in love with and spent a fortune on while I was pregnant with him. They dot his wall as a reminder that although he is growing, he is still my baby.
His room, like his personality is changing everyday. He no longer runs to me when I pick him up from school, no longer wants to be hugged and kissed in front of friends and I'm no longer a perfect angel in his eyes. These are the moments that fade away so quickly and imperceptibly that if you blink you may miss them.
I can remember like it was yesterday, the day he was born. The overwhelming love I felt. Holding my perfect son and promising that I would always love him and be there for him. I would have endless patience to help him to learn and grow. We spent hours playing and I was amazed at every new development and milestone he reached. I had every toy, every baby necessity and each thing was in pristine condition. No pacifier that fell on the floor went unsanitized, stains were treated and lifted gently out of clothing and toys and highchairs were lovingly polished to a shine. I had what I like to call "first time mom syndrome" You remember that time, when you believe that motherhood is exactly as you imagined. You have a beautiful, special child that you can take along to lunches and on shopping trips. A quiet child that naps wherever and whenever. You notice the approving glances from strangers as you pull boogie wipes, hand sanitizer and an endless aray of snacks from your perfectly packed diaper bag and you think to yourself "I have so got this..I'm an amazing mother" Now that I'm 2 kids deep and on most weeks, a single mother, I am on the opposite end of the spectrum. The other day I found cheerios in my sports bra...that I was wearing, after I had been to the gym, and without thinking....I ate them. Thinking back, this is clearly disgusting, but at that moment my choice solved 2 problems. I had nowhere to throw them away and it had been a while since my last meal. If I have baby wipes with me, its a miracle and must only be because some superior mother must have felt badly for me and slipped them into my trunk. My kids are noisy, rowdy, and dirty to the point that they literally leave a dirt ring around the tub every night. I find myself, not full of patience but constantly on the edge of shouting at someone. Each new development for my youngest is noticed in passing and does not make me want to cry out in elation and delight. This type of mothering is nothing like I imagined but as far as I can tell...its the real deal. I know, I'm not alone and I take great comfort in that. As much as I roll my eyes at the "new moms", I can't help but envy them. I remember that stage and all the joy and love that went into every decision.
As I softly close the door to my "big boy's" room, my eyes fall on a framed picture of the two of us. In the photo, I am lifting him into the air and nuzzling my face into him while he laughs and shrieks. It was taken on a day when he was still my tiny baby and that invisible line that would move him farther away from me was blissfully imperceptible. A time when his every movement was considered pure genius to me. That moment, captured in time reminds me that every moment I can keep him close is a gift. That every time I can make him laugh or amaze him will be one more moment that each of us can look back on and treasure. I may not be the perfect mother, but I'm smart enough to recognize that one day my children will be grown and drift away.

Makin new friends

Making new friends in your 30's is like dating. You spot someone in your neighborhood, or playgroup or at work who seems like they might be a good fit. You have casual conversations which eventually lead up to asking them to do something in another setting. There are nerves involved, you wonder if they like you, if your kids will get along and hope for the best.
When we decided to move back to Chicago, I was relieved to have a pre-established friend base to rely on. When we actually got here, I was a little surprised and disappointed to learn that things had changed just enough in all of our lives that  I couldn't depend solely on these friendships to get me through. Kids, jobs, husbands, work schedules and family engagements filled up social calendars to the point that it was almost impossible to find time to get together. You start to realize that its almost a requirement to have friendships with women who are on the same schedule as you. Sort of like a dating checklist which might list things things like, great sense of humor, smart and ambitious; my new friend checklist has things like: stay at home mom and able to play in the afternoons and kids with similar ages and nap schedules. Once we have established that we are compatible in those areas, we can move onto other important areas....funny? likes to shop? sarcastic? loves and appreciates Davis Sedaris the appropriate amount.?
Today, I made the move- so to speak- on woman in our neighborhood. We had met several times, waved to each other around the neighborhood, exchanged pleasantries at the park...it was enough for me. I knew she had a 2 year old son, a husband that worked long and uncertain hours, that she ran and was a stay at home mom. Perfect. I boldly went to her house, introduced myself, told her she should stop by anytime with her son to play and invited her to Jacks birthday. She took my number and now its up to the Gods.  Maybe I'll be as lucky as I was in LA when I met one of my best friends on the street. Im not sure lightening strikes twice but I'll never know if I don't put myself out there.

When the talking wont stop

Everyday around 4pm, I lose the ability to take in any more information from my 4 year old.  I have been saturated with language, but the words just don't stop coming. My son Jack can talk about anything, anytime to anybody. While I deeply admire and love the fact that he is an extraordinarily social creature, it can also be exhausting. I wake up everyday and the very first thing that I see is my son's face in mine asking "Mom, can I watch a bideo (video)." Luckily, bideo time is usually the only time he is silenced. It allows me to get my coffee, put together his brother's bottle and gather my thoughts before we launch into never ending conversation. He is funny, sarcastic, interesting and poignant but even the best conversationalists can only hold your interest for so long. Please dont misunderstand me...I love Jack and I know that one day in the not so distant future, he will be a sullen and silent teenager and I will long for the days when he wanted to chat with me for hours on end. But today, I'm exhausted. So, I will rest my ears and sit in silence...gearing up for what tomorrows conversation may hold.