March 7, 2010 by Miss

I will always remember that…

… it was raining the day you were born.

… my night nurse loved The Simpsons and was illegally downloading episodes the night you were born.

… they brought you to me in a “Property of the U.S. Navy” onesie.

… you had big feet from the start and while you looked just like your dad, you got those from me.

… for the first 2 weeks, I couldn’t look at you without crying because you were that beautiful.

… all I wanted to do was touch your hair, and your cheeks, and hold your little hands and feet.

… you helped me get current on all after dark infomercials. And you never let me buy anything!

… you always hated being on your stomach, which is why you have a flat spot on the back of your head to this day.

… you had THE best baby laugh I’ve ever heard. You laughed with your entire body and I always laughed with you.

… you were never scared of baths and you would open your eyes super wide in shock when I poured water on your head. Then came the laugh.

… you had so much hair, you got your first haircut at 3 months.

… baby shoes never fit your fat feet. Not only were your feet too big, they were too thick. Also, you would kick off every pair of socks I put on you.

… you were mischievous from the start and 9 years later, you still are. I see that glimmer in your eye and I know you’re up to something.

… you have never been one to dwell. Yes, you get mad. Yes, you threw tantrums and you pout. But you are quick to forgive and you never hold things against people. You’ve always been able to move on quickly, in case you miss a moment to laugh.

… you’ve always been my protector.

… you need to sit next to me in restaurants.

… you aren’t afraid to hold my hand at school (yet).

… you usually pull my arm up so you can snuggle under it, no matter where we are.

… you love. You laugh. You have compassion for others, especially when they are smaller than you.

… you are you. You are who you want to be and you express that in your music, your clothes, and in the jokes and stories you tell.

You’re 9 today sir. You made me a mother and from the start, you’ve been changing my life every single day. You’ve made me see the world differently, how amazing and beautiful it can be and you’ve shown me how quickly it goes by.

I love the boy that you are and who I watch you becoming. You make me so proud to be your mom.

Happy Birthday dude.

November 2, 2009 by Miss

When my son was little, I stayed home with him during the day. I worked nights while his dad was in the Navy. It worked for us, well. I finished my degree while I watched my baby grow up. I didn’t miss a single milestone and I would never ever trade a minute of that time for anything else in this entire world.

This is the child who’s laughter and smile could bring me to tears with the pure beauty and joy it would bring.

One of our most favorite ways to fill the day was with Disney movies. He was obsessed. Every single Pixar movie, he would have them on rotation. The minute it would end, I would have to start it over again. He wasn’t even watching half the time, he needed it for background noise. He would be playing and pause for just a second or two to watch his favorite parts, point and laugh at Woody, or Mike Wazowski (maybe because they shared a name? He always favored him.)

I miss those days, fiercely.

Right from the beginning of our Disney movie days, I always pushed the music. Whenever a song would start, I would pick him up and dance around the house. Once you’ve seen a movie 5 times in 4 hours, you learn the words pretty quickly. After awhile, it would be him seeking me out to dance when his songs came on.

The opening scene to Lilo & Stitch would always excite him. He loved this movie so much that he wore it out. I had to go buy another one. He loved the opening song to this movie so much that he would make me replay it over and over again. He got the soundtrack for Christmas that year but it wasn’t quite the same. I just recently added this song to my iPod and every time I hear it, I can’t help but remember his little chubby legs bouncing up and down as he swayed to the music. I can almost hear his ringing laughter as we twirled around the living room, his head thrown back with joy.

Sigh. My baby isn’t a baby anymore but it sure is wonderful to remember those days.

June 27, 2009 by Miss

When I first found out I was pregnant, I panicked. Thoughts of telling my parents scared the hell out of me. Thoughts of telling my friends made me feel ashamed. Here I was, barely two months out of high school and knocked up. While everyone else was going to start college, I was going to have to get a job and start getting huge. And oh fuck, now I have to get married.

When I got pregnant, I actually had no prior plans. I hadn’t applied for any colleges because by the time I finished high school, I had no desire to go right away. I totally had the plan to “take a year off”. I had moved out of my parents house and moved into my boyfriends apartment because playing house was fun. I was job searching and just enjoying being a lazy bum.

Telling my parents was incredibly hard, I cried my way through it. We softened the blow by stating we were getting married first. Three days from now. I still remember his exact quote (as I was already bawling my knocked up face off), “As you may have already guessed, Miss is pregnant.” So yeah, come to the courthouse on Tuesday at 1:00 ok mom and dad? In every single one of the pictures from that day, my dad looks pissed and miserable.

Sigh.

I don’t think I have to say that my parents quickly got over it and were the most wonderful support system I could have asked for. They still are. But that isn’t the point of this post.

When I was pregnant, I didn’t really tell anyone outside of my family. My best of friends knew but that was it. I mean, I let a guy that just about everyone of my friends completely hated, make me a statistic. I was 18. He was an asshole. I was an idiot. It’s the classic love story. I felt like a total moron. I was deeply ashamed of myself and ashamed of the child growing inside of me. I was a selfish, insecure girl.

And then he came. He changed my life. The minute the nurses put him in my arms, my entire life had purpose. I could not even look at him for very long without my eyes filling with tears, without struggling to catch my breath because he took it away. Yet, all I wanted to do all day was stare at his perfect little face, to touch his tiny little fingernails, to smooth his thick brown hair. He was everything I never knew I always wanted.

He is, he will always be, my everything. He still takes my breath away, and its not just because at the end of most days, he smells like a foot.

And yesterday, he had his last day of 2nd grade.

My boy. He’s clever. He’s witty and sharp and quick to make a joke. His comedic timing is better than mine. He’s my biggest fan and I his. At 8 years old, he knows how to take a joke. When he told me that he wanted to play soccer again this year, I told him he could but that he “better not suck like last year.” His dad was shocked to hear me say that, in a totally deadpan voice. My son? He looked straight at me, and erupted in laughter with an “Oh mom!” He knows me better than his father does, and his dad has had going on 13 years to figure me out. We constantly tease each other and sometimes I forget when speaking to other kids, that they don’t quite know that I’m full of sarcasm and are in fact taking me seriously. If he happens to be there, he just tells the kid “oh she’s kidding” with a classic eye roll.

I remember that third grade for me was the first year that I was scared of going to school, of not being smart enough. I don’t think that my son has ever had this fear. He’s smart. He’s social. He woos every single teacher and staff member at his school. I walk in and he is being gushed over by all the aides. As we walk out of the school, all I hear is “Bye buddy! Have a good break! See you next year!” coming from all sides. They don’t know me, but they sure as hell know my kid. One of my proudest moments of him during second grade was as I went to pick him up from school, the after school aides asked me if me and him were running a marathon that weekend. I was seriously confused because me? Run? HAR. After she explained a bit what she meant, I realized that my son had told them about the March of Dimes Walk that we were participating in for Maddie that coming weekend. “He is really excited about it” they gushed. I explained what it was for and we all got a little misty as he walked up and took my hand to walk out the door with his mama.

3rd grade. These milestones keep happening, as much as I beg them to slow down or stop even. It’s all moving too quickly but at least I can remember slowing down sometimes, and walking with his hand in mine.

March 4, 2009 by Miss

Calling me from his new cell phone. I’m almost off work, headed to pick him up…

“Mom! When you leave work, just go! No texting. And no twitter. I know your hobbies!”

Damn. My own kid called me out. Too bad I’m not teaching him how to twitter with his new phone. SUCKER.

~

As I’m driving to pick him up, I get another call…

“Mom! I want to go play at the school!”

“Who’s going to watch you?”

“I dunno, there’s people there but I don’t know them.”

“You think I’m going to let strangers watch you?!”

“My dad does.”

FAB-U-LOUS

Thought I would share this quick video of him using his birthday present/reason for future ER visits. If he isn’t acting like this, he’s being a little asshole.

[vimeo=http://www.vimeo.com/3479961]

That’s my baby. Wait. No. He’s not a baby anymore. On Saturday, he’ll be 8. Sigh. Eight. It’s hard to wrap my mind around. I was 18 when he was born and I felt like I knew nothing about life. 8 years have gone by and some days I feel the same. But. I have this little boy who is rushing to be a man and I am not sure how to slow that down. Even though, just now, I had to remind him not to put money in his mouth. And then I had to smack him for pretending to choke on that money. Sigh.

What can I say? The kid has the ability to make my heart swell to the point of bursting and less than five minutes later, I feel like wringing his neck. It takes a special talent to do such things. See because sometimes, he stops being a brat for five seconds, and he grabs me by the hand, and he makes me dance.

[vimeo=http://www.vimeo.com/3480762]

And when he lays down next to me, and asks to snuggle, as I hear his breathing get heavy, I can’t help but think about how much love I have for him.

Eight.

Sigh.

January 8, 2009 by Miss

A couple of days ago, Colleen at Mommy Always Wins, who owes me add revenue because I link to her a LOT, asked her four year old some random questions about random things and she blogged it for all to see. It was super duper cute.

I thought, hey! MY kid can be super duper cute. Everyone will think so and will FINALLY believe that I can also be a mother amongst the greats! It will be wicked awesome.

Yea… my kid? He’s a smart ass comedian. All my dreams of greatness just went flying out the window.

Watch and learn the tricks of the trade:

[vimeo http://www.vimeo.com/2768011]

Not five minutes after we finished this video, we had an earthquake. Was that the Universes way of telling me to never do this again? I’ll totally be testing this theory out.

December 19, 2008 by Miss

I don’t write about my kid much. I don’t know why. More than likely, its that whole bad parent thing I suffer from. Anyways…. he’s seven, so he never shuts up. Like, rarely ever. And sometimes, funny stuff comes out of his pie hole.

So enjoy the kid-isms.

~

Opening a piece of “Super Bubble” bubble gum…

“Mom, have you ever tasted this?”

“Yes son… when I was young like you are”

“Know what? When I was 1 years old, I saw on TV that this Super Bubble Bubble Gum is the most popular gum in the world. And it’s made in China. You didn’t see it because you were at work.”

Interesting. At 1 years old, he’s watching news reports about gum. Should I blame his father?

~

Driving down the freeway, a car like mine passes us…

“Oh Mom! Should I be in that car? Hahahaha……” wait for it…. “I bet it’s cleaner.”

AWESOME.

~

And last but certainly not least…

“Mom… why do we need Santa Clause? Like why does he come?”

“To bring presents to good kids.”

“So…. he’s probably not coming here huh?”

At least the kid is honest.