For my son

Cute

2012-01-12T08:51:00.000-08:00

I was prepared for Teh Cute when you were a baby. I was delighted with the 4 and 6 year old cutes, but I am completely surprised but the teen cutes.

You are just so cute. You've finally got a working brain that doesn't require a pg rating, and I can share all my favorite shows and music and art and foods and it's all new to you. You reinvent the wheel thirty times a week, and when I see you do it I remember when I did it and it's Cute.

I've enjoyed all 16+ years of living with you, and am looking forward to as many more as I am privileged to have.

Love,

Mom

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!111!11!11!!!!

2009-11-16T19:09:00.001-08:00

AAhhhhhhhhhhahahaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!

inhale

AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAHAHAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Which doesn't begin to sum it up.

The first time I woke up to find you missing, I thought the worst. The worst was that you had gotten up to go party with who knows to smoke who knows what and then carry on doing god knows what until who knows when. Then I thought worser than that. I thought, dear jesus, he's dead. The only reason for him to not to come home is that he's in a ditch, because surely he wouldn't worry me to the ragged ends of my sanity for no reason.

But you did. You thought you had a good reason at the time. Right now I can't even remember what it was, but, as I've come to learn in the times you've disappeared since then, it's usually because you "just needed to go for a walk" or you "couldn't handle it."

I'll admit there are worse ways to cope, but I dearly wish you would find one that didn't worry me to death.

You tell me you understand, and that you're sorry for scaring me.

You have no idea. Perhaps, it is true, I have a greater capacity for letting my thoughts get away with me than other people do. Perhaps other mothers don't imagine gruesome scenarios when their children won't answer their cells, or sob and shake with fear when their precious offspring is two hours late coming home. I can't help it. I love you so much it tears me up. I've told you that I don't need you to be here to put my mind at ease, I just need to know that you are somewhere. Someday you'll have a child of your own, and when they leave home and your imagination starts getting carried away you'll finally understand that I don't need your whereabouts in order to keep you on a short leash, I need them so I can imagine you healthy and whole, laughing with your friends someplace safe and warm. There are a million ways for children to die, and I imagine them all in horrible detail unless I can fool myself into believing I know what you're up to.

You just don't know.

Please tell me where you are. I'll make up the rest,

Love,

Mom

Will you remember?

2009-04-03T18:30:00.000-07:00

When you're old and fat like me, will you remember the time you wanted to play badmitton, but it was dark, and at first I said "No" but you talked me into playing under the street light, and we whacked at the birdie with cheapy rackets in the middle of the road laughing and laughing, and when a car came we'd go stand in the yard but sometimes I'd chase you and make boogabooga noises at you?
Because it was fun. I love you so much. The thought of you growing up and away from me scares me, because I want us to be like that our whole lives, and I'm scared I'll goof it up.

Please hang in there while we figure this out,
Love
Mom

Great Big Boy

2008-09-05T05:40:00.000-07:00

We've spent the past few days marveling over the story of the young man who caught scurvy by living off beer and chicken wings for two months. We've also read of his siblings who don't know that vacuum cleaners have bags, or what "tsp" stands for. I am proud of you, because even if you started your independent living today you would be better off than those guys. You actively seek out information about daily living, and you never shirk your chores. Never. When you go off to college and your friends regale you with tales of their many lessons, teams and clubs; when they pity you for never having spent all your weekday evenings in a whirlwind of soccer, test prep courses and boy scouts meetings; smile a sad smile as you spoon them a second helping of the only healthy home cooked meal anywhere near campus. Agree that it was terrible while you lounge in clean clothes in a (relatively) clean kitchen. I know things won't be totally spic and span, but I can rest easy knowing it won't be because you don't know how.

Of course, sometimes you end up being too much the big boy. Today you went to the first full day of school in two years. I woke you up at 6, then lay back down. You don't need me to be awake for your shower or breakfast. But I meant to get back up before you left. You needed a hug, someone to ask if you remembered your lunch. I woke up at seven and came running down the steps, but you'd already left. Nervous, you wanted to be on time and you left early.

Hope you remembered your lunch.

Love,
Mom

Puberty

2008-04-17T18:41:00.000-07:00

Your major growth spurt still alludes you. You're upset that your 10 yo friends are giving you hand-me-downs. But just today you noticed your own BO, and you've got two- TWO - zits, the most you've ever had at one time. Your Dad and I have both noticed the darkening of your lip hairs.

Dude. It's on its way. Won't be long now. Soon I won't have to urge you to eat. Your voice will change. You'll trip on everything.

It's all part of growing up. It scares me more than it thrills you, I think. It's a reminder that your time with me is limited. Have I done all I can do? Is it enough? Have I let you down?

I know I've made mistakes. I'm human and I can't help it. My hope is that because you're such a smart, sweet, loving, creative, resourceful fellow, you'll do just fine in spite of me.

I love you so much,
Mom

Pictures

2008-04-05T19:44:00.000-07:00

I have a flickr account which you rarely bother to peruse. When you do, you invariably start making a ruckus about the pictures of you that are on there. How dare I! Post! Pictures! Of! You!

From your perspective it's a gross invasion of privacy. The whole internet is looking at pictures of you being a goof. Your delicate teenage image is being destroyed.

From my perspective, this is our family picture album. How am I supposed to leave you out? Love and photograph all my children except for you? Nope. Sorry. And as for the whole internet looking: Nope. Sorry. It's our friends and family - the same people who would see these pictures if they were in our house looking at a paper photo album.

Perhaps this is a mistake I'm making. I don't know. I want to respect your budding sense of self and your privacy, but at the same time I think of these pictures as mine. They are images I make and share with people who care. Right this minute you're embarrassed, but one day you're going to look back on these pictures and be so glad I took them. And even if you don't, your future family will.

If this is a mistake, I apologize. I do it with the best intentions.

Love,
Mom

Almost 13

2008-03-09T21:12:00.001-07:00

The other day you said you didn't want to be 13. You wanted to keep on being a child. You can't know how much I want that too. I want you to stay my little Boy. I never want you to be too big for my lap.

But you grow. And it is good. You've already started stretching the wings that are going to take you out of my nest; forgive me if I don't make room as quickly as you'd like.

I hope you know how proud I am of you. I know you've got all the things you need to be happy in life. You're kind, hard working, creative and smart. Mostly I worry that you don't know it as well as I do.

I love you so much- I couldn't love anyone more. You are dear and precious and perfect to me just the way you are. I could spend all day trying to communicate just how dear and precious and perfect and loved you are, but it wouldn't be any good because it just can't be said enough.

I love love love you,
Mom

Well, you asked....

2007-08-23T10:40:00.000-07:00

I was cleaning my closet out, which means I ran into a cloud of dust and my head filled up with snot. You came into the bedroom to take advantage of the chance to snuggle in our bed. I blew my nose and said "That's disgusting!"
To which you replied, "What's disgusting?"
So I showed you.
And you screamed. And ran. And said "Oh my God! What was that?!?" about a million times.
And I laughed. And wheezed. And laughed harder. And had to sit down so I wouldn't pee.

I suppose one had to be there to appreciate the humor, but you were, so one day you'll read this and sigh "Those were the good old days..."

Love,
Mom

Someday you will have forgotten this.

2007-08-13T18:33:00.001-07:00

You will read this and be reminded, and laugh as hard as your Dad I did...

So your sister came out to the kitchen with something in her mouth. I asked her what was in her mouth, and she spits out a piece of glass! Oh the horrors! We had just had a glass break in the kitchen the day before, but we were sure we'd gotten it all up. Then to see that glass come out of her mouth....
I couldn't imagine how she hadn't cut herself until I looked the glass over. It was oddly smooth- kind of like sea glass, only perfectly clear. Your Dad came out to the kitchen to look at this odd glass, and was holding it up when you came into the kitchen. "Oh!" You say, "That's my rock candy! I'm sure of it!"
Then you cautiously hold it up to your tongue and taste it.
"Yep!" you say, and pop it into your mouth.
This is when your Dad says
"So let me get this straight. You dropped that piece of candy on the floor. Then your sister sucked on it for a while, then you ate it."
Oh the agony! You couldn't get over the horror of it, and we couldn't stop laughing. Still makes me giggle.

Glad no one was hurt,
Your Mom

Growing Boy

2007-06-12T18:00:00.000-07:00

The other day you said you were headed to the shower. "I stink of puberty" were your exact words.

Yep, puberty stinks, but you haven't truly figured that out yet. You're tickled because today you got your first real zit- a cute little whitehead on your cheek. I'm sorry that you won't always think they're cute.

The week before last you came out of the bathroom all excited because you were sure you'd grown armpit and pubic hair. Haven't checked your crotch, but there is no real armpit hair, just peach fuzz. I hated to bring out down. You've watched almost all your friends shoot up and sprout hair and heard their voices change- you don't understand why it hasn't been your turn yet. You wanted me to buy regular milk to see if the BGH wouldn't help things.

Lately you've been driving me and Simon CRAZY. You go all sullen and rude. You insist you have to be right about something and won't listen to a word we say. You go deaf at random intervals. You take fourteen million times as long to do a job as any normal, healthy person should.

I love you anyway. Often, after you blow up in some spectacular fashion, you apologise and say you'll never do it again. I always say "Yes you will, but I'll still love you anyways".

It's true,
Mom

Ghosts in the walls

2007-04-16T05:51:00.000-07:00

This morning you had me turn off the sink because you heard a noise. We stood there in the kitchen and strained to hear it. It sounded like it was coming from the hall, so I followed you out there, then it was coming from outside the door, so we went through, and standing right next to you I heard it clear as day. The doorbell was screeching and chattering like something out of a sci-fi movie. I felt it and the wall around it and it wasn't hot, but I figured I'd call the landlord anyway. Once I got on the phone with her I went back to the doorbell, but the noise had quit. We chatted a while. When I got off the phone you said you'd never be able to concentrate on your reading with that racket, but you were hearing it in the living room now. I went in there, but now you were hearing it in the kitchen! I'm following you all around the house trying to figure out what wall it's coming from when you call me from your bedroom.

It was your gameboy. In your pocket. Squeaking.

So.

You were kind enough to volunteer to call the landlady and explain what bubble-headed boobs we are. I was so proud of you for doing that. I can't imagine doing that when I was your age. Then you talked about being so embarrassed. I pointed out that I'd made the same mistake that you did, and I'm the grown-up...

Hope you can laugh about this soon- it's funny!
Love,
mom

You try so hard.

2007-02-09T19:40:00.000-08:00

You do. All the time. And yet, when I try to point out how much effort of will that takes I can see that you don't believe me.

You are truly the sweetest boy I know. Good at heart. An honest to goodness angel. I try and try to communicate that I believe this to be true about you but I feel like I never get through.

Someday you'll be bigger and older and maybe you'll be ready to hear it when you read this. I hope so, because you really are a wonderful person. I promise I'm going to keep trying. It's probably me somehow- I'm just not saying it often or loud enough, or I spend more time saying Don't and Quit. Or I say it often, but not often enough because you're paying attention to the Don'ts and Quits.

When it's all said and done, I know you're going to be just fine. I wish I could spare you some of the pain of growing up. Open your eyes to how amazing you are, how pointless and petty other people's attentions can be.

I love you so much,
Mom

2006-12-03T10:50:00.000-08:00

Good Hearted

2006-10-08T13:14:00.000-07:00

Last night I sat down to the dinner table and I knew something was wrong. I can tell by the set of your chin that you're trying not to cry. And I know, I just know, that you're going to say nothing's wrong.
And I'm mad already. Because something is wrong. It's obvious! How can you sit there trying not to cry and tell me nothing's wrong!
But I ask anyway, hoping you'll surprise me.
You don't.
And I yell. Just once, would you tell me what's wrong! You know I'm not going to let it go, so knock this off!
You start to deny it again and I won't even let you finish your sentence- I'm banging on the table now- Knock it off!
So you finally spill the beans. You think I'm stretched too thin. That with your little sister to take care of, I'm at my wit's end to run the house.

Well.

The house certainly looks that way. And it is true I would have gotten more done today without your little sister to take care of.

But it's also true that you and I started a major rearrainging project today that threw to the winds what little order our house had. It is stressful to be in the mess, and I know you hate it, but nobody could have finished in two hours what we started.

We'll work on it bit by bit until it's better. At times like this I feel lazy. Slovenly. How could I let it come to this? And you always look at me like I'm working so hard; like I'm about to fall apart with the frenzy of my efforts.

I wonder what on earth your wife will be like.

Love you sooo much,
Mom

To my son:

2006-10-08T08:26:00.000-07:00

I love you so much. I wish I were a perfect Mom, who was never tired and grumpy, who always had the perfect answers for things.

As we both know, I'm not.

I wish I had kept a journal just about you for your whole life. I've only managed it off and on. There are many reasons, but none of them are that I didn't love you enough.

I will piece together what I do have collected already, as I find the time. And I will try again, here, to keep a record of your life as it is viewed from my eyes. Someday this will be important. It will help you understand why I went wrong when I did, and will help you understand why you do the things you do.

And it will be fun. You're going to forget much of the stuff I write about. Someday you'll read this and get the biggest kick out of the funny, sweet, wonderful kid you were.

Love,
Your Mom