Letters To My Sons | May

"My baby sister girls are coming!! Right Mommy?? They are coming next Thursday! And then to my birthday party, right!??"

I'm not sure exactly where the idea you had two baby sister girls on the way came from, but it did, and you've been talking about them - Julie and Julie  - so much in fact that I felt the need to mention to your teachers that no, I was not pregnant with twins. Still, I can't help but laugh when you talk about their arrival or random imaginary sightings of them - across the street, at your favorite playground or walking right behind us. You make drawings for them and dance in circles with excitement about being a big brother even though you said "they are three just like me".  It's terribly sweet - the sticky gooey sweet that makes my heart yearn. And then I kind of, almost, just-for-a-millasecond wish I could give you a couple baby sister girls. For your birthday.      

Instead we settled for Blue Man Group. Birthdays are the best reason to do something special as a foursome, and this show did not disappoint. For weeks leading up to the big day you'd invite anyone who crossed your path, even total strangers -"You gonna come with me? To my birthday?"  During the show there were several times where you were the (littlest) audience member laughing the hardest. 

Blue Man Group videos on Youtube became part of your daily routine as well as discussions about every last birthday detail. When would we open presents? What should Mommy bake for your friends at school? Cupcakes or frosted sugar cookies?  As usual our family ended up devouring New York's best Brooklyn Blackout cake -- this year with icing in your favorite color green. You love this cake so much that for awhile there you were calling it your "Chocolate Birthday". But whatever you want to call it - "Blue Man Group Birthday"..."Chocolate Birthday" - the cutest part for me was when you ran around to each of us with the biggest smile saying, "This is the BEST birthday EVER!!"

Absolute. Uninhibited. Joy.

I must say there's something ridiculously cute in your voice these days - not only how pipsqueak it is, but how relentlessly you jabber as if you just discovered you can do so. One morning I secretly recorded you talking about all the different subway trains - which ones are local, which ones are express - ending every comment with "right Mommy??"  But when you really killed me with cuteness was the time you asked me to help you put your pajamas on.

"Why don't you want Daddy to help you Grey?"

"Cause I love you Mommy. You're BOOTIFUL."

Then the time you told me about your friends. 

"I have two friends, right Mommy??  You. And Daddy."

"What about Cash?" I asked.  "No, Mommy," you said with your trademark smirk. "He's my brother."

And then there was Daphne, the strawberry-blonde girl you met and fell in love with at the playground. Instantly connected by joy and a kindred sweetness, the two of you ran toward the slide, giggling as you rode down together hand in hand, over and over. 



With all this cutesy though, there is the mighty flipside. The attitude and ohhh, the mood swings. "Whatever," you'll say with the sass of a tween, "That's ruh-dic-uh-lous."  Such swagger makes you sound older and of course makes us laugh, but we also bear witness to some absolutely spectacular meltdowns over the most irrational things, making us wonder if you might actually be turning two instead of four. Like when you got so mad when we told you your last name was "Davis" (you insisted it was "Grey"). Or when you fought hard to argue that the "D" is a local train not an express one. My modus operandi is usually just to give in to avoid total breakdown, but that's not always an easy surrender for your older, know-it-all brother. Therein lies my daily battle. There was that doozy of a fit on the subway that was so beyond, Cash and I were both left shaking our heads. You had asked me to make a funny face - which I did - but I guess it wasn't THE RIGHT funny face, because you started crying out, "NOOOOO MOMMY!!! THE FUNNY FACE!!". You worked yourself into a terrible state, sobbing for eight long stops to 145th street and there was nothing we could do except let you cry it out. I think I may have even pulled my hoodie up over my head and closed my eyes to tune you out. When we got home Daddy asked, "What the heck is wrong with Grey?"  Cash and I just looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders. "It wasn't the right funny face."  

You continue to shock us with the things you say and do, and I can only imagine what lies in store for the mighty FOUR. Just the other night, after I cleared all the boogers out of your nose, you lay your head down in great relief and said something I couldn't quite hear. "What was that Grey?", I said leaning in close. 

"You're the best Mom."

Oh Grey, I love you so much. All of you. Each and every inch of your heart and soul. And when you spontaneously say such sweet things, my heart bursts right out of my chest. 

My wish for you is that this year ahead is your finest yet and one you'll never forget!

Happiest of birthdays Grey Bear!

I love you. Always & forever,  Mom