Letters To My Sons | July

Dear Cash,

Well, your team did it again! No longer a rookie, you finished a second undefeated season with the Harlem Bulldogs. I guess it's suffice to say you avoided the sophomore slump. I've told friends that even though you aren't one of the power hitters (and your team has a fair share), you are consistent. To this day you have never struck out and can always be relied on to bring in runs.

Baseball isn't necessarily your favorite sport you've told me honestly. You much prefer basketball and swimming. When there is no action and you're just waiting in the outfield, baseball gets a little boring for you which I completely understand. A couple of times you asked your coach if you could be the umpire and I figured out why. First, you like putting on all that equipment (you feel a bit like a warrior!) and secondly, there is far more activity. Retrieving the ball, throwing it back to the pitcher and trying to get runners out at home plate keeps your attention and your body busy. I often think, however, that even with those long innings in the outfield you consider boring or the tiresome weeknight practices, you are learning far more than you know - especially with David as your coach.

We campaigned to get David again this year and I really believe these two undefeated seasons are because of him. He made the Bulldogs a better team made up of better players. I can't tell you the number of times we overheard opposing team parents comment on his ability as a little league coach. They'd point out his patience, how he'd take the time to come to the plate to help with feet and arm placement, and his proven ways of getting the team to focus and work together which, is not all that easy when you're dealing with four and five year-olds. Believe me, there are a number of coaches who don't have this skill. Plus, his dedication was unparalleled. He worked tirelessly to teach you Bulldogs the fundamentals: Focus on the ball, follow through with your swing and always be in your "ready position". As a result you guys racked up hit after hit and run after run. So many in fact that we parents would kind of feel bad for the other team. Kind of.

Heard from the sidelines:

"Hey! How old are these kids? We wanna see birth certificates! 

We want drug tests! [laughing] Are you sure they aren't on PED's?

This orange team is really good! They've got a great coach. And they can hit, catch AND throw!" 

Though you say baseball isn't your favorite sport, you'd sure get excited when you'd make the connection. There was that time you ran to home plate, after your first coach-pitched hit, when you looked up to see if I was watching and of course I was. I saw the whole thing from beginning to end. And the grin on your face was priceless.

Dad was also there watching you run those bases and stop the occasional grounder, while Grey, your biggest fan, was cheering through the fence, "Go fast Cash! Run!! Run fast Cash! Goooooo!!!!! Go fast!!!"  I think you've got him excited for next year when he'll finally be old enough to play. We're not sure yet, but you two may even be on the same team for one year.

Son, although you don't realize it now - because the picture is just too big - playing little league is helping prepare you for life. Of course it helps you learn to be a team player and work with people of different backgrounds, but you're also learning to deal with the pressures of both failure and success. You're learning to push yourself and not give up when you feel tired and unmotivated. You are starting to build a strong work ethic and deeper yet, within yourself you are honing your drive to improve and succeed. Fortunately, with a coach like David, you are also learning resilience, patience, how to keep your cool and most importantly, how to build your teammates up when they are feeling discouraged.

As a boy growing into a young man, it's important for you to learn these things so that one day you can become an example in our community. And what better place to do this than out on the ball field, representing the next generation of Harlem.

My love, may you continue to be a constant force on whatever team you play in life even if it's not necessarily your favorite. May you rally through the difficulties and challenges you will inevitably face and may you always be "Ride-Or-Die" for those by your side.

I love you son.

Always & forever,

Mom

Letters To My Sons | June

Dear Cash,

You are now one of 60 children from 37 New York City schools, from 28 zip codes, who speak over 10 different languages, that will be new students this fall at Manhattan Country School. Your orange t-shirt, with the words "Peace, Family, Sustainability, Community and Love" written on it, couldn't sum it up any better. Recently returning from our first MCS Farm Outing Day, our hearts couldn't be more excited about this next phase in your life.

I'd never even heard about MCS until my friend Fredi mentioned it to me when I was just beginning to look at schools. She couldn't say enough positive things about it, so I decided to go on a tour just for the helluvit, not thinking I'd ever consider it because of the commute. But when I learned the school would be moving to the Upper West Side the following year, well, the game totally changed. I called Dad at work (which I NEVER do) to tell him there was something special about this school. And I felt it the second I walked in the building. 

Right away I noticed that classroom after classroom is full of children who look like you. Inspired by the educational dreams of Martin Luther King, Jr., MCS has become a role model of cultural diversity for other independent schools. The vibrant mix is unlike any school I have ever experienced. And just when I thought it couldn't get any better, I learned about the working farm upstate in the Catskills. Are you kidding me?! Is this place for real?

When that acceptance email from MCS arrived last winter, I literally danced in the streets. Dancing for joy because of where you were heading, dancing for happiness because of the new families we would come to know and dancing for God with a grateful heart over how this all unfolded. God is love and as cliché as it sounds, Dad and I both agreed that for us, the school feels like heaven on earth. Its community, made up of of dozens of mixed families like ours, is absent any hint of racism. It is alive with "Peace, Family, Sustainability, Community and Love" - just like your t-shirt says!

As soon as we arrived at the farm, we saw the colorful "quilt" with the names of the new students arriving this fall. Finding yours brought a smile to your face, especially since you were "a bit shy" when we arrived. You didn't even want to get out of the car. For several months, you've been asking questions about Kindergarten and the making of new friends so I know the transition is heavy on your mind. This is your first rodeo with this type of change, so I have tried my best to help you process your feelings about it. As you spent time walking along the creek, feeding farm animals, hay jumping, dancing to the live band and making new friends chasing bubbles - as predicted, you didn't want to leave when the time came.    

[Click each image to view full scale]

You weren't the only one having a good time. Our whole family enjoyed the food, drink, games, and live music beneath a blue sky with cotton candy clouds. Perfection. 

We recently connected with another couple who live in Harlem with their two boys, the same ages as you and Grey, and already have a few plans with them in place for later this summer. Their oldest son will be in the same class as you so right there you have made a new friend.  

 

[Click each image to view full scale]

"The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and enjoy the dance." ~ Alan Watts

My love, when it comes to your life journey, you will go through a multitude of transitions; new schools, new homes, new friends and losses of all those as well. Your heart will break a little each time and in different ways. But with God by your side, and the fact that each of those events will make you stronger, you'll come to learn it's a part of life. The most amazing result, if you let it, will be the making new friends. That never changes as you grow older. Even Dad and I are thrilled to have made new friends at MCS and think how old we are!

Remain open to the possibility of friendship and love, embrace the sameness and difference between you and others and always remember how it feels to be the newcomer. You'll be able to reach out with kindness when you see someone who may be feeling a bit shy. It will be one of the most wonderful gifts you give the world.

Who knows, maybe these new friendships you will make at Manhattan Country School will be for a lifetime. 

This, my love, is just the beginning.

Always & forever,

Mom

Letters To My Sons | May

Dear Grey Grey,

Today is your birthday. A mighty three year old with so many emerging traits, but what I love most (still!) are those eyes, followed closely by your rosebud lips. And I can't get enough of those little hugs you give everyone in the family when we aren't asking for them -- doled out on your own terms and as a result, much more precious. I fall to pieces whenever you say, "Mommy, I go wit you?" before running off to grab your shoes and socks. Whether heading to the subway to pick Cash up from school or driving in the car somewhere with Daddy, it doesn't matter to you, just as long as we are on the move. So there's no doubt that within you resides a true adventurist spirit. 

By the way, "adventurist" in the dictionary is described as "defiance or disregard of accepted standard of behavior". Yup, that's about right. Besides the fact that some of your favorite things to say are "No", "Mine" and "Grey do it", you love to instill panic in your the hearts of your parents. First you check to see if we are looking (giving the side eye if we are), before taking off running and then laughing as you force us to chase after you. When a package was delivered to our door the other day, you galloped out of the kitchen holding a paring knife, saying, "Daddy, open it!"  With your fair share of spills off the sofa and chairs and most recently down a flight of subway steps, it's a miracle we haven't made any trips to the emergency room this year. You're tough though, really tough with an obviously strong and resilient head. I just pray the same holds true on your next birthday.

Your favorite color these days is "Boo" (Blue) and your favorite things to eat are macaroni and cheese, powdered donuts, peanut butter and potato chips. Basically anything salty or sweet. You love Pringles and Muchos like Daddy. And you even eat those SUPER spicy peanuts that I can't tolerate, and I love spicy food. It's quite amazing. I imagine one day you will be a seeker of good Mexican food who carries a Frank's hot sauce around in your backpack. 

Two of your favorite things to do are play baseball and scootering with your brother, whom you follow around day and night. He's the first person you look for in the morning, and the one you need in the room with you at night in order to fall asleep. "Cash go to bed too?". He is your first friend, your best friend - the one who you play with every day and can't wait to see whenever you're apart. But being brothers you love hard, play hard and fight hard. Lately though, we've noticed you standing your ground more often. You no longer take any crap from Cash if he tries to pimp you out. No more shoddy, busted hand-me-down toys or raw deals for you. And there's even the possibility that you may one day outgrow your brother. You're that kid that total strangers make comments about -- "That's a big boy"...."He's only two?!!"  -- towering over your peers in preschool like the giant baby in "Honey I Blew Up The Kid".  Even Cash's little league coach did a double take the other day, "Whoah! Grey's gonna be 6'6"!"  

Now that you are 3, you're definitely coming into your boyhood -- leaning out, growing taller and losing those last remnants of babyness.  Little changes in your smile, your voice, your gait and how you scale staircases are all signs that our last baby is growing up, and I won't lie, as your mother it is at times bittersweet. 

All month long you've been saying, "Grey birthday coming!", looking forward to our ride on the double decker bus -- your "birthday party" as you call it. But a party it most certainly is - a moveable celebration - with a family that loves you, riding high through the streets of New York City.

Happy Birthday boo! My darling Grey Bear. 

Always and forever,

Mom 

 

Letters To My Sons | April

The dictionary definition of a MUSE is "a person who is a source of artistic inspiration". And you Cash, are most definitely that for me. You were just over a year old when I picked up photography again and as my first child, quickly became my ultimate inspiration and favorite subject to capture. Not only that, you were really good at it. So good in fact that we had you modeling before you were walking. You scored a couple of jobs with Joe Fresh and Macy's and it was cool seeing your first paycheck when you were just 13 months old (less cool was the money we owed the IRS at the end of the year!) -- but I soon realized I'm not cut out to be a modeling mom. Too much schlepping around the city (with a stroller and bottles and diapers and a bag packed for any type of emergency), followed by too much waiting around, and ultimately too much commitment. I just couldn't do it. And that was before Grey came along. I definitely couldn't drag both of you to a daylong go-see. Instead of mugging for an agency or kids clothing catalog, you looked into my lens over the years and as I delved deeper into my photography -- taking classes online and forming a photography network of women and fellow mothers -- you grew alongside me. Looking back now, I see the awesomeness of how it all transpired and have you to thank. What's most awesome though, is that even now, five years later, you remain my consummate model.

Once you got a little older, not only did you take my direction but you gave back what I like to call "good game face". While we were shooting these photos somewhere in midtown, a photographer noticed your "game face" and crossed the street to observe us. He quietly watched for a bit before saying, "Wow - your mother is very lucky. A good model, a great smile, and clothes that match the background..." And he's right. I couldn't ask for anything more. You have always been there to inspire me, and this seems especially so whenever I'm in a creative rut. In fact, I was in a bit of a doldrum before this very shoot. I hadn't been motivated to pick up my camera in awhile (winter tends to do that) until suddenly spring's warm weather arrived. "Cash, let's do a photo shoot on our walk to swim class. It's supposed to be a beautiful day." You were totally up for it, and just like that, as you so often do, you lit a fire to my creativity and left me with a gallery of bold, cosmic and totally boss street-style pictures.   

Having lived in New York for almost twenty years, it's no secret I'm drawn to the city's energy, and now, raising you and Grey here, I love capturing you guys within it. A close friend once described me as our family's "Documenter of LOVE" which I think pretty accurately sums it up. You have been such a joy to photograph over these years, changing your looks and expressions to suit your age and present mood. Nowadays you like to show off your "cool dude" side, putting your hat backwards and making a grill face. I laugh at the foreshadowing of "teenager Cash" - at times thinking you are one already - and hope that when that time does roll around, we'll still hit the streets to take some cool photos. 

 

Daddy can't believe I let you hold my mamma-jamma camera, but I do. You've shown more than a playful interest in photography and I'm thrilled to be able to share it with you. This day, we talked a bit about shooting in open shade versus direct sunlight and about finding interesting textures and colors which led us to these bold graffiti walls. Always careful not too overwhelm you or bore you -- my hope is that tidbits of knowledge will sink in and who knows, might influence the way in which you visualize the world around you.

Whenever we stumble upon interesting pockets of light, you'll often point them out to me, confirming that you are learning the first rule of photography. You do that a lot, especially when we see the sun rising up early in the morning over Harlem. "Mom, look at that light! You should take a picture!" 

If we're not taking photos, we're probably somewhere listening to music. On the subway, we share headphones; one earbud for you, one for me, sitting closely so they don't fall out. 

When we walk down the street we usually play music at full volume from my phone. Our current playlist has a heavy rotation of Prince and here you are dancing to "Let's Go Crazy" (your favorite of his songs!) -- wearing purple no less. I'm fairly certain The Purple One, may he rest in peace, would be proud.

My son Cash, my consummate model and muse, thank you for your endless inspiration. May you always seek the interesting, the unique, the bold and the colorful. May you be inspired by pockets of light and golden sunrises and may your soul be moved by music in ways that make you get up and dance wherever you are. 

I love you son,

Always & forever,

Mom   

Letters To My Sons | March

Sweet little Grey Grey,

My friend Fredi says that I'm in the midst of a total "love fest" with you lately. "I've never seen you this way with Grey," she recently said and I suppose she's right. Of course, it goes without saying that I have always loved you, but there is something bona fide and heartfelt happening these days.

The simple truth is...we are bonding.

Another simple truth is that wasn't always easy. There was a long period where your meltdowns and the frequency of them made mothering a very real challenge. Met with confusion and repeated guesses as to what you were saying, you'd get verrry upset, and I mean, who wouldn't?! You'd have tantrums at home, in public, and remained quiet and isolated in school. Your confidence in the classroom was greatly hindered and while I can empathize with this now, at the time it was really hard for me. I often felt so exhausted from trying to translate before you had a chance to spin out of control, that there were many days I would call Grandma or Aunt Gail for support only to break down in tears. Suffice it to say, none of this was because I loved you any less, it was just a bit more work to get where we are now. The journey has been real, but it's made the bond we've cultivated that much sweeter. You've been going to see a speech therapist since October and now that your communication has greatly improved, I clearly see the root cause of our growing pains. All along you just wanted to be understood. We both did.        

There is no shortage of cuteness coming from you these days and of course you know it. You know just how to melt our hearts to get what you want. With the saddest puppy dog eyes, holding your finger up like the number one, you'll say, "Peas Mommy, Peas Daddy, just one." You love to make us laugh with your silly faces and cheering fists that remind me of Kristen Wiig's Target Lady from SNL, or by pretending to sleep (and snore!) when we ask you to do something. Sometimes you just take off on your scooter ("cooter") through the apartment - "Look Mommy, VROOOOOM!" as you squat down low and extend one leg. It's an honest struggle not to crack up laughing.

When you're not scootering or playing comedian, you're dancing like a Fly Boy and rapping into your karaoke microphone. A song will come on (it doesn't matter which one) and you'll say, "I like that song", busting out your own style of breakdancing. I've caught you practicing your backspin and Robot moves and in fact, just the other day while Cash was rapping, you climbed up onto a chair to dance. I warned you that it wasn't safe to be up on the chair, but you didn't care and it wasn't long before you fell over backwards and hurt your arm. I guess that's something you and I have in common -- fearless arrogance mixed in with an overwhelming passion to get up and dance! Whether on that chair (or speaker!) you want to shine like the brightest star in the galaxy and Dance. Your. Butt. Off. 

I must mention one other thing about our little LOVE fest - your sweet kisses! Sometimes you'll offer one up right away and spontaneously, while other times I have to work really hard using little bribes. But I've got no shame. And like a lot of things in life, it's absolutely worth it in the end. 'Cause when you pucker your lips out SUPER DUPER far, squeeze your eyes really tight and make a big "MWAH" sound, I literally keel over and die from endorphins.

"I LOVE YOU GREY GREY"

"I LUH YOU TOO MOMMY"

Those five words strung together to make up one of your first full sentences are the sweetest sounds to my ears. There are even times when it's too much and I'm overwhelmed by emotion. You've come so far in the past six months Grey Grey and I'm so proud of you. Maybe it is a "love fest" like Fredi said, but whatever you call it, it's ours and it's special.

I love you boo.

Always and forever.

Mom

Letters To My Sons | February

Dear Cash,

We recently went to Milani's "Sweet 16" and had so much fun at the party, dancing to the DJ and raiding the dessert table. While we were clearing up our plates, a woman who was working for the catering hall came up to me and said something that really struck me. Nodding in your direction, she whispered, "He's a Mommy's boy and the little one is Daddy's boy."  Shocked and a teensy bit flattered, I asked her how she knew this. "Cause I've been watching you guys all night," she said, "I can just tell."  The way she answered, with an assured grin, I have no doubt she is a mother herself -- probably even a grandmother -- with boys of her own she's raised and loved. Right then and there, in the middle of a teenage party in the middle of one of the biggest blizzards in history somewhere in the middle of Brooklyn, she bore witness to our bond. 

Another person who noticed this wasn't a stranger. It was my sister, your Aunt Gail, and because of this, I think it may have been even more special. While we were out to dinner as a family she said, "Cash doesn't take his eyes off you! Look at how he ADORES you." That was last summer. And you are still this way, always wanting to sit on my lap, asking to hold my hand while we're walking down the street, and to cuddle first thing in the morning before anything else. It's hard to imagine there was ever a time when you weren't a Momma's boy -- but there was! -- when you were around two years old. The same age as Grey is now. You wanted Daddy for everything back then and you recently explained it to me in a way that only you can. You said, "Daddy is the starting line and Mommy, you are the finish line. So, maybe when Grey is three he'll love you?"  

Oh Cash, I never tire of your matter of factness!

Nowadays you refuse any help from Daddy. From tying your shoelaces to brushing your teeth, to pitching baseballs - "No, I want Mommy to do it!"  You'd rather have me pitch baseballs!! My friend Judy asked me the other day if I do all those things and I said, "Of course!", because I know there will soon be a time when you don't want my help at all, when you'll be too embarrassed to hold my hand or hug me in public, and I'll long for the days when you wore your love for me on your sleeve. 

Recently you came home from school with a necklace that spelled out "Mom And Cash". You made it during choice time with the classroom lacing project and Teacher Mia let you keep it for one night (the pieces are part of a set that had to be returned). She told me it was really important for you to show me. Even though I only had it for a brief time, it was far more precious than any of my jewelry with a sentiment everlasting.

The other night when I went out to dinner with Ahna, you wrote me a little note on a tissue to "keep in my pocket in case I got lonely". It read, "Love You Mom. Love, Cash". As I was walking out the door you ran over and said, "Just one more hug before you go Mom, because I'm going to miss you." My heart melted.

Then because today was a rather warm February day, we went to the playground where you found a couple of boys, a little bit older than you, to run around with. You and your "crew" climbed atop a formation of rocks that overlooked the playground and when I walked over to you, you got so excited. "Hi Mommy!!" Then looking toward these new buddies, first to your left and then your right, you waved with great pride and exclaimed, "That's my Mommy!!" While I'm not sure how impressed these older boys were with the news, it definitely tugged on my heartstrings. I will forever hold onto that excitement of yours. That sweet little boy who loves his mommy and isn't yet embarrassed to show it. 

Some very big news this month is your acceptance into Manhattan Country School. It was our first choice for you and we couldn't be happier that you'll be going there this fall. The morning I found out, while we were riding the subway, I witnessed a couple of older boys ignoring their Dad, dismissing him with an overt attitude. It reminded me of a conversation with Pow Pow, once had with me while riding a ski lift when I was 12 years-old. He said, "Rini, do you promise that when you become a teenager, you're still going to be nice to your Mom and me?"  I guess that is every parent's fear. The fear that your child will grow older and turn against you. So, inevitably, at the same time I was over the moon about your acceptance into kindergarden, I was also apprehensive and a little sad about you turning another year older. For a second there, riding along on the C train during rush hour, I was on the verge of tears. 

"Mom, do you not want me to grow older because I'll look different? ... I'll still love you, you know, but birthdays don't stop."

No, they don't son. Yet again, your matter of factness prevails. But there's one more thing that won't stop and will keep growing right along with you ... and that is my love for you.  

That, my son, is always and forever.

Mom 

Letters To My Sons | January

First off boys, I want to wish you a Happy New Year! You both have grown so much this past year, connecting in a deeper brotherly way, which, I honestly believe is largely in part to Grey's language explosion. It's obvious to everyone - family, friends, teachers - that your personality and confidence has blossomed Grey, since you started speech therapy last fall. Hands down, it's one of the things I'm most grateful for. Now, instead of getting frustrated that you aren't being understood and throwing yourself into a state, you use your words more clearly. Though there are some things I wouldn't mind remaining adorably incorrect: "Mommy, plum" (Mommy, come), "Doo Doo" (thank you), "Blanny" (blankie) and "Kews-Mee" (excuse me), my heart is overjoyed that you are able to communicate your feelings...wants...needs...and most importantly, your love for your brother, with infectious enthusiasm. Your confidence has skyrocketed and your smile - well, it's like a million stars in the sky! 

I usually take a break from shooting in December and January to enjoy all the holiday hoopla, though we did manage to come away with a couple photos of you two looking rather dapper. I mean, let's be real, I couldn't let that moment slip by - plus you are holding hands!  Be still my heart.  

 

Daddy surprisingly grabbed my camera and snapped one of us on the red bench at Grandma and Pow Pow's. It's now one of my favorite photos with you guys. Whenever I look at it I'm reminded of how much I wanted to be a mother of sons. Cash, you always ask me, "Mommy, why did you want two sons?" and my answer is always the same: "Ever since I was a little girl I wanted to have boys. I wanted them to be brothers. I wanted you and Grey."

Boys, my wish for your new year is simple: Continue to feed your playful spirits! May the memories you create this coming year bring you much joy and much closer. May you continue to laugh, dance, and wrestle each other like little lion cubs. And most importantly, may you continue to LOVE.

Always & forever,

Mom

Letters To My Sons | Christmas Edition

Rookies no more! This was our second year going to see Santa at ABC Carpet & Home and we made no mistakes this time. The key is to go the first weekend Santa arrives to the fancy furnishings store, also the first weekend after Thanksgiving. It's quite simple: more people out of town = less line. We chose Sunday because not only can you can park right in front, but it's also free.  And so, with our vast experience to draw on my boys, this year the Davis family was first in line! 

Parked right outside the entrance with an hour and 15 minutes to kill, we played music and I-Spy, took turns going for coffee, and ate lots of goldfish crackers. Grey's car seat held our place in line which, I have to say, is much better than standing in the cold ourselves (I think it was the one cold day this month!). 

When Santa finally arrived and the doors opened, I didn't have time to fiddle with my camera settings - perhaps the only downside to being first. I scrambled to capture your moment with Santa, to capture anything for that matter in that dimly lit room. And then, there you were on his lap....and it was magic.

Grey, you were up next and immediately started crying and clutched onto Daddy. We just assumed since you do everything your brother does, mimicking his every move, that you'd do the same in this case. Boy were we wrong! Daddy had to sit next to Santa and hold you while you craned your neck as far away as possible from the guy in the red suit. But it was still priceless. 

Maybe next year you'll cozy up and share your Christmas wish with him? That is, if Santa hasn't retired. Word on the street is this may be his last year at ABC Carpet, having been the realest Santa (go ahead, tug his beard!) in NYC for 25 years. Oh how I hope he decides to stay through the rest of your believing years.

Well boys, in this last letter of the year 2015, I would just like to wish you a very Merry Christmas and a new year filled with many magical pursuits!

Always & forever, Mom  

Letters To My Sons | December

Dear Grey,

Cash was about your age when he first became obsessed with trains so you are following right behind, or should I say, right on track. I know, an eye-rolling pun, but I couldn't help myself and in any case, it's true. You get excited each day when it's time to ride the subway and spend most of your play time in your room, cheek to the floor and butt in the air, rolling train cars along wooden tracks. It only made sense then, that Pow Pow should take you to see the freight trains during our recent visit.    

There is an old abandoned bridge near Grandma and Pow Pow's house, open only to pedestrians, where if you wait long enough you're sure to see train lights in the distance. I don't think you really knew where we were going or what we were looking for. But once that first train came down the tracks - right underneath where we were standing! - you knew exactly. And then could hardly wait for the next one to come.

Trains don't run that often on holidays so we were thankful to catch two of them barreling down the tracks. I, for one, was amazed at Pow Pow's endurance. I know just how heavy you are (a thirty-eight pound future nose tackle for the New York Giants!) and he didn't flinch, holding you for a good couple minutes each time while you counted train cars. Your great-grandfather (Pow Pow's dad) lived to be 100 years old and Pow Pow is a fit 82, so you come from good stock boy. Strong-Like-Bull stock!  

Pow Pow said that they are planning to tear down this old bridge sometime next year, so I'm grateful you had the chance to go trainspotting before this trusty lookout is no more. A lifelong train fanatic himself, Pow Pow discovered the perfect place where you and your brother could get up close and "feel" the freight's awesome power beneath you. "Go ahead and wave," Pow Pow always says as the train is just about to reach the bridge and it's never long before you hear the whistle blow.

I often imagine what the train engineer is thinking when he sees us standing there on the bridge. Does it remind him of when he was a boy? Of days spent watching trains with his own father or grandfather. Did he always dream of becoming a train engineer? I don't know the answers, but one thing is for sure. He most certainly sees tremendous joy and love looking down from above.

My dear son, throughout your life many trains will come and go and maybe a couple of old bridges will be abandoned and torn down. But you'll always have memories like these to remind you of how you are loved. Especially how much Pow Pow loved you and wanted to see you smile. 

Like the awesome power of the freight trains you so admire, may your wildest dreams carry you to the farthest reaches of this world and may your heart and will remain strong. Strong. Like. Bull. 

Always & forever,

Mom

Letters To My Sons | November

The idea of bunk beds came up over a year ago when Cash asked for them. We decided to wait until Grey was old enough to move from the crib to a big boy bed, allowing me plenty of time with my trusty measuring tape. Weeks followed with various deliveries while entire days were devoted to breaking down old furniture and putting together new pieces. I did the interior decorating and Daddy did the back breaking work - poor guy!  But Cash, you helped out a great deal, hammering nails and using the drill for the first time -- so proud to be building alongside your Daddy. 

It was a given who would sleep in which bed. That's the blessing of having you guys two and a half years apart; there's no fighting over the top bunk. Grey was just happy for the upgrade. Once the mattresses arrived and the magic bumpers to keep Grey from rolling out of the bed, you guys jumped right in. "My bed," Grey said, pulling the covers up to his chin and squeezing his eyes tight as if he were sleeping. Crib life was officially over. Bunk Life was happening NOW.

I had always imagined your room would be FULL of color - a happy place for you guys to spend your time. In fact, it's kind of become the room where we all want to spend time. It just makes you feel good. I can't tell you the number of times Daddy has walked in and said, "If I had had a room like this when I was growing up...This is amazing." 

So one "Pizza Bunk Friday" I took photos of you two in your element, which I feel tell a greater story than any words I could ever write. Plus it will be cool for you guys to have them when you take a trip down memory lane -- "Remember when we lived in Harlem and had bunk beds?" -- sharing memories and secrets I'll never know.

[Click on each image to view in full scale]

My ear to the door has heard Cash reading a story to Grey and scurrying feet to the toys bins followed by whispers and giggles. We're still in a stage of practice, so those nights when you guys keep each other up far too late, Grey is sent back to his old room. And then, if Daddy is snoring a bit too loudly, I quietly slip into Grey's bottom bunk (which, by the way, Cash thought was hysterical the first time it happened). Like I said, the room that brings everyone joy.  

Stars are a bit of a theme in this family, so the star string lights we recently hung over your bunks added that final touch of magic. The only thing left now my sons, is a wish for countless sweet dreams and late night secrets in your little man cave. And always...always..."Pizza Bunk Friday".

I love you to the stars and back, Mom 

Letters To My Sons | October

Dunna-Nunna-Nunna-Nunna-Nunna-Nunna-Nunna-Nunna

BATMAN!!!

Hey there Grey Grey,

Well, we stumbled upon this year's costume during one of our strolls through Party City. We like to pop in there on our way to pick up Cash from school, mainly to ride the escalator with the green disco lights. But because Halloween was fast approaching, there were aisles and aisles of costumes for us to wander. The batman mask was the one you obviously chose and in my opinion, suits you perfectly - especially with nothing else on but a diaper. I'm sorry boo, but the diaper just adds to the adorableness of it all. It's a shame you can't just wear that trick or treating! 

When I showed Cash this black and white photo of you he said, "Wow Mommy, that's a really nice smile from Grey." It sure is. You may not look like the meanest batman in town, but at least you're not confused about it. You're just happy to be fighting crime alongside big brother, the mighty Power Ranger.

Last year for Halloween you were a lobster. A lobster who couldn't walk and had to be transported everywhere. Originally Daddy and I had wanted to put you in steampot that we carried around wearing chef hats, but you were too heavy and a stroller was far easier on our backs. This year though, you can walk on your own up to each house for a trick or treat, filling your very own bag of candy. After Dad steals the Mr. Goodbars and I sneak the Skittles, you'll whittle your stash down three pieces a night, so I guess it's a good thing you just went to the dentist for the first time.

In fact, lately there've been couple of firsts: your first year of preschool, your first night in a big boy bed and your first 90 minute movie in the theatre. While watching cartoons, your giggles are most enjoyable, but even more so is where you find the humor. You love running down the sidewalk ahead of me and jumping off every brownstone step along the way with your older brother. Riding the subway is one of your favorite things to do so you'll run and grab your shoes whenever I say it's time to go to the train. You make it a point to show me every bus, doggy and acorn that crosses our path. And you say, "Hi Daddy" to every man that walks by which always makes for an interesting exchange. So it goes without saying Grey Grey, that life is never boring with you.    

 

 

I've been thinking that the face you make - where you scrunch your nose and squint your eyes - might be a little too adorable for the dark knight. And the way you say, "Mommy I LUH YOU" may not necessarily be the voice of Gotham's caped crusader. But I swear, I could listen to it over and over. And I do. The diaper? Well, as Batman himself says, "It's not who I am underneath, but what I do that defines me." 

So Lil G, I hope you have a ghoulishly Happy Halloween with Red Power Ranger by your side. May you always fight for what is good and right, and know that without a doubt, you are already MY SUPERHERO.

I LUH YOU.

Always & Forever, Mom  

 

 

 

* Update: It took you a little while to get the hang of trick or treating. The first couple of brownstones, you did the reverse: you actually gave the person a piece of candy from your bag instead of receiving one and the grown-ups had a good laugh over this. Then you would ask Daddy to open it up as soon as you got it. You must have had a dozen mini chocolate bars, half of which remained on your face. But you had a blast with your buddies, proudly marching on to the next house for the next treat.

Letters To My Sons | September

Happy birthday my love. Five years ago today you came into this world and changed our lives for the better. What a cliché thing to say, but it's entirely true. The enthusiasm you have for life and for sharing it is beyond compare, that sometimes all I can do is look into those twinkly brown eyes and thank God for you.

The other night I sat at the edge of your bed and we talked about what you wanted to do on your birthday, what you hoped you'd be getting. Of course it was ALL about Power Rangers - Megazords, Vivixes, Sledge and anything Dino Charge -- complete crazy talk to me. But it's what you're into right now, and you're always so excited to describe the different characters and fighting scenarios. Just to let you know though, I secretly recorded our talk. I had to preserve that sweet little voice of yours -- what you'd call a "sound snapshot" -- from a year so great I often wish I could freeze time. 

A couple of days ago while we were walking home from school, I realized that I almost never ask you to hold my hand. You do it automatically and all the time. But in my heart I know these days are numbered and it makes me a teensy bit sad. When I asked you later if you'll still hold my hand when you're Five, you laughed and said, "Yes, Mommy!", then pinky promised to hold my hand when you when you are 10, 18, 25 and even 50 years old!  "FIFTY!!??" I said, "That means I'll be 86! How awesome will that be??!!"  

I know I've said this before, but you have grown into a loving, caring and confident older brother. Grey absolutely adores you and follows you everywhere. Even when he's in preschool (which he just started this year), he'll point to the door and say "Cash" to let his teachers know he wants to go to your classroom. The other day both of your classes were outside at the same time and you guys ran over to hug each other through the fence. Every grownup watching had a hand on their heart because it was so sweet, while one of the teachers ran to open the gate so you guys could give each other a real embrace.   

 

First steps

 

Sweet Cash, I know it's inevitable that each year you will add another number to your age. You'll grow taller and bigger, until one day you're looking down at me, forearm resting on my shoulder. You'll be a grown man with so much going on in your life that it will be hard to remember a time when you were so small and in need of guidance. But for now, I love that I can pick you up and tickle you silly, that your small hand is still cocooned in mine and that you pinky promised to hold it even when you are fifty years old.

So my love, I joyfully wish you happy birthday and pray for a fantabulous year ahead. Just so you know though, I'm going to hold you to that pinky promise we made the other night. Cause I've got it all on tape. :)

I love you son.

Always & forever,

Mom

Letters To My Sons | August

Dear boys,

As summer comes to a close, I could talk about how fun it was going to the beach, or the Saturdays mornings we got up early with Daddy to play basketball or the day at the farm when you guys rode in the wooden firetruck. But that's not what I loved most. What I loved most of all was watching your brotherhood grow. You see, this time last year Grey wasn't walking and of course wasn't talking, and I remember looking ahead to the time when you boys could run around together, when we could ditch the stroller and go have some fun. And, well, this summer was it! 

[Click each image to view full scale]

When talking about your brotherhood I'm including all of the hi's and the lo's, all of the growing pains involved with such a bond. One of the sweeter moments this past month was when I peeked around the bedroom door to find Cash reading one of Grey's animal picture books to him, and Grey trying to repeat the words back. Everyone in the house can't help but laugh when Grey says things like, "Doo Doo" (thank you) or "Boons" (balloons) or "Mo Mo" (Elmo) or when he says "Hi Dash!" (Cash).

That's all pretty darn cute and balances out those other moments when you guys mush against each other like feral rams fighting for my attention, or a certain toy or the window seat on the subway. Or the times when you guys chase each other around the house until someone inevitably falls on the floor, off the bed or couch, then cries and points a finger at the other one. Today it happened on the trampoline and Grey ended up with a bloody nose. It was the first bloody nose of this brotherhood so good for you Grey, you won that one! 

That's life and often times I'll just let you guys work it out yourselves, knowing that part of what bonds you now and forevermore will be these experiences. But I would like to thank you for those contagious fits of laughter, those squeals of joy during our "nae nae" dance parties and games of hide and seek, the tears of pain and frustration and the many smiles that brightened my summer. And most of all, I am thankful for zero trips to the emergency room.

Always & forever,

Mom 

Letters To My Sons | July

Dear sons,

I must say we've been busy this summer doing all sorts of things, going all sorts of places, and yet there is one recent morning that stands out. We were getting ready to hit the playground early before it got too hot or crowded when Cash, you came out of your room to show me you had on your red rain boots and had dressed Grey in your favorite hat and sunglasses. I couldn't help but laugh because many times in the past I had tried (unsuccessfully!) to get Grey to wear them - but since he loves YOU so much, he was happy to put on whatever you picked out. I was dying too because you guys looked like the Blues Brothers. You're too young to know who they are, so just google it and you'll see. 

[Click each image to view full scale]

 

Most of the time you spent going down the big slide over and over again. Grey, you were so happy to chase behind and up the steps to the top and Cash, you were so sweet with him, giving an extra boost of encouragement, a gentle push or a playful idea: "Put your hands up Grey! Close your eyes this time!" Sometimes he'd just sit in between your legs while you slid down with your arms wrapped tightly around him. 

We left with one of you riding piggy back to the nearest Duane Reade for band-aids - yes, those rain boots made for some gnarly blisters. Heading home, well Grey, that's when you managed to throw yourself into a state. It started from something small - I think some lady had bumped you accidentally when she walked past - and within moments you were inconsolable. But it was nothing Cash and I aren't used to. Actually it was fun for us to watch all the people walk by and try to get you to stop crying. We'd just look at each other like, "Yeah okay, nice try but we know how this goes." We patiently let you wail, wait for the next bus to go by and then shout, "Grey, Look! There's a bus!!"  Bingo. 

The other day I ran into the girl who works at the liquor store who saw this all go down. And you know what she said to me?  She said we did everything right, and most of all, what a great big brother.  

You Davis Brothers who look like the Blues Brothers, who play hard and love hard and cry hard, are growing up before my eyes. 

Cash, this past year especially, I have watched you become such a helper with Grey. Whether or not he is willing to receive the help, that's another story. But one day he will discover with great certainty that you always have his back. Even nowadays when he's having a tantrum on the street you'll say to me, "I'm not leaving my brother." 

Daddy tells you guys to "look out for each other no matter what." His mother said that to him and his brothers all the time when they were growing up and you know what, they did. They held each other up in the best and worst of times. And I have no doubt you will too.

Always & forever, 

Mom, Mama, Ma-mee

Letters To My Sons | June

Dear Cash,

I remember clearly those first weeks after you were born. As a new mother I'd often start crying whenever I'd look at you, shaken by how much love I felt. I heard such emotions were typical, but I also knew it was more than that -- it was you. Over the past four and a half years, I have had these feelings wash over me time and again. When you are sleeping I'll sometimes sit beside you for a bit, kissing you softly on your forehead and repeatedly thanking God for such a loving little boy.  

"Cash, I wish you could stay four forever," I once said to you, "I wish you would always want to cuddle and hold hands like this...You'll grow into a teenager and then a young man who will have his own family...but I'll always remember you as my sweet little boy." To which you replied, "It's okay Mom, that's a long way from now. And I promise I'll come back for Thanksgiving." 

I guess you're what people call a Momma's Boy and that's cool. No, that's GREAT!  'Cause even though your "grown-up-ness" is a long way away like you said, these wonder years are still going to pass far too quickly. Starting with that first photo we had taken of us together (you were six months old) with your little balled up hand resting on my collarbone, to a recent one of us on vacation where you instantly placed your hand over my heart, your tenderness is without question. Then there's the moment you reach for my hand through the fence (one of my all time favorite photos!) just before going up to bat at one of your little league games and said, "Mommy, hold hands."  That was when my heart exploded.    

 

"There is an enduring tenderness in the love of a mother to a son that transcends all other affections of the heart."

~ Washington Irving  

Your last day of preschool was a week ago. As I sat through the closing ceremony, what struck me most was how loving you also are toward others. After getting your diploma, you hugged each of your three teachers one by one. When your head teacher, Lisa, started crying while saying good-bye and thanking the parents, you walked over and gave her another embrace. "Don't worry Teacher Lisa, whenever you feel sad you can look at this picture and then you won't be sad anymore."  What your teachers talked about most this year was your developing sensitivity toward your peers, how you learned to use words rather than behavior to communicate your emotions (not always easy for a 4 year-old!) and how loving you can be in your ways. Heck, sometimes you help me work through my feelings ("Just take a deep breath Mommy.... S-L-O-W-L-Y ... now breathe in and out"...) which never ceases to amaze me. 

Cashew, it's been a real joy to watch you evolve past your challenging year three. The arrival of your baby brother rocked your idyllic "only child" universe and we had to chug through some pretty rough patches that year.  "Mommy when I was three it was really hard for me, and I wasn't good a lot of the time. But now that I'm four, almost five, I'm being good....I'm not mean to my brother anymore. I just had to learn." 

Oh baby, the way you process life is remarkable. I am awestruck. You are the apple of my eye, bring tears to my eyes and fill all of our hearts with love.   

Always my sweet boy,

Mom 

One of the flowers you picked for me during our recent vacation to the Dominican Republic. Each day when I came to get you from camp you'd come running. "Mommy, Look! This flower is so beautiful. I picked it for you. Put it behind your ear and you'll be so pretty." By the end of the week I had a glorious bouquet.  

 

Letters To My Sons | May

Dear Grey Grey,

Today is your birthday! You are two years old now and there are three people who couldn't be more thrilled. It seems you're finally starting to move out of your dramatic phase, which, might I add, went on for a solid year. This photo is one of my favorites because it's real life ... it's our life -- it's classic Grey.  Sorry boo, it's the truth. But don't be mad, we love you dearly and ALWAYS have your back even when we're laughing through one of your oscar-winning meltdowns, with those heavy arms and Charlie Brown frown. It's just part of our humorous and tactical approach to your mood swings. We even created a couple of nicknames for you: Psychobaby, Mister Moody Rollercoaster, Grumpy Gus and of course, Drama King.  "There goes the Drama King" we'll say, as you fall to the floor in agonizing defeat over something minor, "that's just Grey being Grey." 

The upside down toy truck only adds to the histrionics of the moment, which was like so many over the past year. We have endured thrown toys, thrown food, furrowed brows and scowls. We've been the target of the evil side-eye and witnessed countless crocodile tears. We've watched you fight mercilessly to do things yourself even when it's not safe. And because you want to do everything your older brother does, when things don't go your way you turn on the dramatics. But thankfully it seems the tide is turning and instead of always waking up in a state, you'll chatter playfully in your room until someone comes in. You are smiling and laughing so much more and have started galloping throughout the house. When I see you after being away, you'll run into my arms, squealing "Mommy!!!!".

I cannot tell you what a pleasure it is to watch your personality developing in full bloom this spring. Maybe it's because you've finally hit the two year old mark - who knows, but whatever the case may be, I'm relieved to have made it through your first phase of growing pains.

So happy birthday little Grey Grey and welcome to the two's. We'll be sure to have lots of cake and ice-cream while we're here with Grandma and Pow-Pow. Just don't be mad if we end up using this as our Christmas card. 

I love you, always & forever.

Mom 

Letters to My Sons | April

Dearest sons,

This boyhood phase is moving so quickly. Right before my eyes the two of you are morphing into junior men; and because it's happening so fast, I make it a point to take the occasional, more formal portrait of each of you. If nothing else, just to see how much your features change in a couple months time and in what ways your essence remains the same. The light that fills your bedroom in the morning is so beautiful, so that's where I'll place you, in a little black chair near the window usually with the promise of a sweet-tasting treat. 

Cash, I just don't know what to say. Sometimes when you are chatting my ear off with questions about grownup life, ocean life, space life and these days, even questions about God and the afterlife, I just stop and stare into your brown eyes, so curious and innocent. Daddy and I have nicknamed you "Cash, the kid who wants to know everything about everything" (from the Sid the Science Kid cartoon) because of your boundless quest for knowledge, especially when it comes to sharks. You are still really really into sharks and couldn't wait for our trip to the Dominican Republic so you could search for the Caribbean Reef Shark. "Du-nunt...Du-nunt..." (the JAWS sound effect) has become your daily chant. And after that we are pretty certain you'll begin the countdown to Discovery Channel's Shark Week in July. 

This past month you started taking swim lessons and joined Harlem's Little League tee ball, playing shortstop (#7 just like Jeter) for the Harlem Bulldogs. Our weekends have been getting busier as we move into spring, and I can't wait to see what new things you discover along your insatiable pursuit of life.      

Grey Grey, you've also got a passion for baseball. Even more so watching your brother at his practices and games. "Ball" is one of your newest words which is no surprise. Another one is "Ewwwwww" which I gather you learned during your diaper changes. You finally started calling me "Mommy" instead of "Daddy" and have begun making counting sounds; not the numbers exactly, but the inflections -- and damn cute I might add. The sweetest hugs in the family continue to come from you. Dawdling across the room with outstretched arms, you just wrap yourself around one of us and then go back and repeat it a dozen more times. You love to do things over and over and when it comes to those hugs and sweet little kisses, I never get tired of them. Those meltdowns and tantrums of yours, well... those I could do without. :)

But I couldn't do without either of you. That is for sure. I love you both so much. We've been waiting such a long time for the weather to warm up and now that it has, all I have to say is, hold on boys, cause we're about to have an awesome and amazing spring! 

Love,

Mom

  

Letters To My Sons | March

Dear boys,

The day this photo was taken was one that I shouldn't soon forget. But just in case I do, and just in case you guys might never know how hard it was for your mother, I'm going to write about it now. As native New Yorkers you will grow up faster than most kids. That's just the way it is. For one thing Cash, we got rid of your stroller right after your second birthday. I'll admit, the motivation was purely selfish since I just couldn't lift and carry that stroller (with you in it!) up and down the flights of subway stairs anymore. I was done. But then along came Grey. New baby means new stroller means two more years of back breaking work. However, Grey you are about to turn two years old and we are again gearing up to ditch the stroller....after we get in a little more practice.

There is no elevator at our subway stop, nor is there one at 86th street where we get off for Cash's preschool. So unless graced by the kindest of a stranger, I must carry Grey in said stroller, often times with laundry and groceries hanging off the sides, up and down four flights of stairs twice a day. When you were just a couple of weeks old Cash, Aunt Gail and I fumbled through the unfamiliar process together. Since then, I have been doing it on my own for a solid four years, remarkably only throwing my back out once. But don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining. If anything I might be bragging a little because I want you guys to know what a badass your mother was. That's the pedigree of NYC mothers - hardcore to a fault, self-reliant and willing to put up with the most challenging travels and travails in order to live and raise our children in this city. Outsiders scoff at us, finding it utterly crazy, but we merely consider ourselves members of a resilient brood who can make it through anything in this great metropolis. It's like a rite of passage - these years of schlepping our little urbanites - that we can forevermore relate to with one another, especially days such as this. 

Well Grey, the beginning of our no-stroller commute went quite well; it was the return home that was a whole different story. You were cranky and wanted to be carried and when I refused, you threw yourself onto the grimy sidewalk, burying your head in your hands. Cash and I waited for your tantrum to pass, but yours tend to stick around awhile. So I picked up all 30 pounds of you and carried you to the subway, biceps screaming. Once inside the subway station your mood improved and you started to run around with your brother, who is by now a novice subway rider. But you have yet to learn platform safety so I had no other choice but to pick you back up. I tucked you, wailing and flailing, under my armpit like an oversized football, and walked with Cash into the crowded subway car. After directing him to the only available seat, I leaned against the subway doors and closed my eyes. Sometimes that's all you can do as a mom. Just tune out. I rolled my shoulders back and used every bit of my strength to hold you the four long stops until 125th street when people got off and seats freed up.    

Once seated next to your brother, you stopped crying and that's when I took out my camera. I wanted to capture snippets of the aftermath and the sheer craziness of it all.

Cause it is crazy. Raising young boys in New York City is a wild ride sort of like the MTA. We don't always run smoothly and may have some delays here and there, but we always manage to get where we're going. We just find a way, simple as that.

Boys, undoubtedly there will be many times in your life when you feel like throwing yourself onto the grimy sidewalk, kicking and screaming. But hopefully you grow into resilient, courageous, patient, thoughtful and tenacious men...

...always willing to lend a hand to a mother with a stroller.

Love,

Mom

New Yorkers in training

Letters To My Sons | February

Darling Cash,

This past Saturday we went on another one of our dates. Over the past couple of years these dates have been made special in that it's just the two of us trekking around New York City with abandon, and this time was no different. We went to Times Square, stopping first by the flagship Toys-R-Us on 44th Street before going to see a Barcelonian dance show at the New Victory Theatre. Since we ride the local "C" train to school every day, whenever we go to Times Square you love the thrill of taking the express "A" train just for the chance to go faster than the "C".  

It was snowing on this day, which is not all that surprising given the weather we've had this month. But it was a very light snow, just enough for it to be magical. We walked along 42nd street, squinting snowflakes from our eyes as we looked up at the neon lights all around. "New Yorkers as tourists" we like to say.    

Before going to the theatre, we took a few photos in the middle of Broadway. I think it was Minnie and Mickey Mouse who tried to bumrush our photo until we shooed them away. "Why, no photo?"  "Um..., 'cause we live here!," we said, before running off into the Toys-R-Us store. You've never been impressed by the cartoon characters of Times Square who pose with tourists and then hustle tips from them afterwards. Not even during your Elmo phase. A true New Yorker.   

Cash, I cherish these "dates" with you because I know that one day soon you'll be a teenager and spending a Saturday afternoon with your mother won't be so exciting.  For now though, I can't get enough of your sweet affections.  Many mornings you crawl in next to me in bed, before your little brother wakes up, for some "cozy marozy" (our special name for cuddles) and say, "Mommy, can we snuggle for a little bit before you make me breakfast?"  Of course I oblige. I mean, how could I not?  You're such a loving little boy, that every day I feel as if I'm storing inside my soul all the kind things you say, just in case -- well, just in case there comes a time you don't say them anymore. Like when you tell me, "Mommy I missed you while I was in school," or, "You're the best, prettiest mommy in the world."  And when I make a mistake how you say, "Don't worry Mommy, it's okay, it was just an accident."  But the most recent example of that love was the cookie you had saved for me from your lunch bag of mini Oreos. You love cookies - and I mean LOVE cookies!! So for you to put one aside, fighting the urge to eat it...and then, be so excited to give it to me, was unbelievably touching. Your "I love you's", hugs and kisses are the brightest part of my days, and often times I'll drop whatever I'm doing to hold your face in my hands 'cause I know this time is fleeting. But I have it now. And I want to hold onto it.

Heading home from Times Square we made one last stop at our favorite pizza place to get a "bomb pizza" (your word for really really good pizza) to share with Daddy and Grey. A perfect finish to another fabulous date.

My son, I love you so very much. I pray you never stop showing your kindness to others. And most of all, that you never ever stop loving as sweetly as you do now.   

Always & Forever,

Mom

Letters To My Sons | January

First and foremost, Happy New Year boys! So far this year we've had some pretty cold days here in the Northeast. On one of those chilly Saturday mornings, we bundled up in our warm gear and headed out for some doughnuts, opting to go without the stroller so Grey could experience (and practice!) life as a pedestrian and, in all honesty, give me a sense of the near future without one. Our "practice" walk involved part of Convent Avenue with a brief pit stop on one of our favorite Harlem stoops.       

Along our journey Grey, it was obvious you want to be just like your big brother. When we sat on the stoop you made the same faces as Cash, copying him when he threw his arms up in the air, and though you have very few words yet, you did your best to mimic his many sound effects. You wanted to walk for the first few blocks without any hand holding. That is, until you saw Cash reaching for my hand and then you begged for my other one. You tried to skip and jump and run like him, however you must have fallen at least a dozen times in your efforts. Sometimes you'd throw one of your overly dramatic meltdowns, but Cash, we weren't phased by it, right?  We'd just pull Grey up to standing, brush him off and keep it moving, laughing to ourselves, Oh Grey, we're not buying it. 

It is just the beginning of 2015, and I cannot imagine nor wait to discover what the rest of our journey this year will include. I wonder what you guys will like as the months go by. Will you still be obsessed with everything Transformers, Cash? Who will be your new best friend? Will you still have a crush on Phoebe and talk to me at night about how you love everything about her? Will you like the Harlem Little League this spring? The Harlem School for the Arts camp this summer? And Grey, will you find a way to break a world record by surpassing your brother in weight? As of today you weigh just three pounds less than him and you are nearly three years younger! Will you like going to preschool this fall? Who'll be your first friend? 

My sweet boys, the road that lies ahead of you is long and full of promise. I hope you dance, smile, trust, love and dream. I pray you enjoy every moment - even the unpleasant ones that break your heart, but force you to reach and grow as a person. You will learn as you get older that rules are made to be broken so be bold enough to live life of your own terms, and never ever apologize for it. And most of all, trust that when one of you falls, the other one will pick you up, dust you off and tell you to keep it moving just the way a brother should.   

Happy New Year sons.  I love you both dearly.

Always & forever,

Mom