Letters To My Sons | October

Dear Grey Bear,

Your green eyes and your curly hair - two of my favorite things - one of which is captured clearly in this photo and the other sketched wildly in your self-portrait. Cash was first to notice your drawing hanging on the classroom wall and I nearly doubled over when I saw it. Those curls! And the way in which you drew the letters in your name. It's become quite obvious, rather quickly, that this extra year of preschool is doing wonders for your emerging self. Even teacher Mia pulled me aside to let me know. "Sarah, Grey is doing so well this year! He's such a good listener in class, sitting with his hands folded in his lap. A sharing friend who always says, 'Please', 'Thank-you' and 'Excuse Me."'  She added that she often finds it hard to say no to you in school because you're such a sweet boy. "I just want to give him the world!"

Funny, cause that's exactly how I feel about you too Bear.

Even when you are apologizing, it's done so sweetly. Almost heartbreakingly so. If ever I scold you about something, it won't be long before you quietly say, "Sorry I made you mad Mommy."  This absolute heart tug inevitably makes me squeeze you against me. "It's okay Grey Grey, I'm not mad. You're doing a good job now!" 

 

Life's little delights are manifest by your trademark gasp, wide eyes and arched eyebrows so frequently that I've nicknamed you "Joy Boy". Even the most mundane inconveniences allow you silver linings. For example, if it's raining, that's okay because that just means you get to put on your "rainboops"!  When the C train is stalled, that's okay, because that just means you get to wait for the express train to pass by. If we are having chicken for dinner (which is not your favorite), that's okay too because "chicken will give me grownup muscles, right Mommy?!"  And when it was Cash's birthday last month and not yours, even that was okay, because you still got to eat cake! 

Then when we're heading home from a special outing, you'll often turn to me and say, "This was a really fun day right Mommy?"  Your grateful heart is one of the most innocently beautiful things about you. 

Recently we made a special outing just for YOU! Since your favorite train is the G train (of course!), Cash and I traveled with you via subway from Harlem to Queens to Brooklyn to ride this green line. When the train operator saw you wearing your G subway shirt, he beeped and waved - one of the many highlights for our joy boy!

"Mommy I love you 10,000 miles," you'll say to me after I finish singing "Hush Little Baby". Of course I always love you back a far greater number, but each night as we throw out different figures, laughing at how silly we can make it, the sentiment is always the same. Our love for each other goes the distance.

My sweet joy boy, may you keep finding those silver linings throughout your life, expressing your happiness all over your face, knowing that you are loved for miles & miles & miles. 

I love you.

Always & forever, Mom

Letters To My Sons | September

Happy 7th birthday Ca$h Money!

I can't believe another year has passed! What blows my mind is how our dialogues have become, well...more discerning. Your insight into the world spans far greater than your 7 years and quite frankly, I'm not sure I'm ready for it. I worry I won't have the right words to ease that sensitive, philosophical mind of yours. 

The morning of September 7th, you endured the typical first day of school anxiety, but it was our discussion on the walk home that was most profound. "Mommy, the GIRLS are bullies! They can be so mean! Worse than boys! And they make other people feel badly."  The realization that girls could be cruel was so unsettling and obviously needed to be talked through. It turns out that one of the girls made fun of your friend for missing his mom, taunting him until he started to cry. You said you were too scared to stick up for him, telling me how the girls are always whispering with each other and saying bad words. "And they always call me 'cute' Mommy and I don't like it! I HATE being called cute!"  Since you obviously don't know yet what this actually means, I acknowledged that this can be annoying, even hurtful.  

Here is where it feels as if I'm talking with a 17 year-old instead of a 7 year-old. I told you that girls ARE complicated and probably will be for the rest of your life. They can be mean and dramatic and yes, even bullies. But you know what's the best thing to do when they tease you and call you "cute"?  "Just shrug your shoulders," I said, demonstrating a lackadaisical lift. "Not the sad kind of shrug with a pouty lip, but the 'I don't care what you're saying, I'm too busy doing something else' kind." Girls are just trying to get a reaction out of you so the best thing to do is not give them one. We practiced a couple times and the following day you told me that it worked as promised. They simply moved on to their next target. 

Cash, you have such a good heart. You know what's right and how to treat people even though you fight it sometimes. Recently you told me your biggest fear is that "in public people will find out I'm good on the inside."  At home and in school you are good-natured, but in the outside world you've got a tough exterior. I'd say that right there is a true New Yorker! 

The other day I told you to stop bothering Grey, to just leave him alone when you said,

"Mommy, you're always telling me to 'BE MYSELF', right? Well, being myself IS getting mad at Grey..AND putting my hands on him sometimes...AND picking my nose!...Even farting! THAT IS ME BEING WHO I AM!"

Oh Cash, you are a boy of great complexity whose ability to turn the tables of intellect on his dear mother makes me laugh, for now anyways. 

May you always seek to defend those who are being teased and intimidated, even if you are intimidated yourself. May you continue to grow your goodness while standing strong in your own truth, knowing I will always be there to walk and talk through life's intricacies, especially what girls really mean when they call you 'cute'.

Happy birthday son!

I love you! Always & forever, Mom

 

Letters To My Sons | August

This was an especially exciting summer for you Grey! You were finally old enough to go to Harlem School of the Arts camp with Cash. For the past two years you would go with me to drop Cash off, hug him good-bye and then ask why you weren't staying with him. It was heart-breaking. But this year you were in the red group, made up of the youngest campers, so proud to let everyone know you had a brother in the green group.

 

At first Cash you were embarrassed when Grey would call out, "There's my brother!" every time he saw you. He'd hear your voice at the pool, lift up his head to look around for you, then tag along with to areas off limits to the four year-olds.

"Mommy it's kind of annoying when he's always yelling 'Hi Cash!!!'"

So Daddy shared with you that it was the same way with him and Corey at this age, and all you had to do was tell people, "That's my little brother. I'm supposed to look out for him," then they'll understand. From there on out you took it upon yourself to watch out for Grey, making sure he put his backpack in the right cubby, didn't forget his towel or water bottle at the pool and kept a watchful eye on him during the field trips. 

You went from being annoyed to taking on the important role of protective big brother, relaying detailed accounts back to me every day. And I would expect nothing less from you!

 

Grey, you absolutely LOVED camp. You called it "church" for some reason which was always funny to us.

Mommy, do I have church today?   Are we going to church now?   I had fun at church today!

One of the biggest highlights for you was performing in the show which happens on the last day of the two-week camp session. When you came onto the stage your smile was absolutely priceless. You poked your head up above everyone else with the cutest little grin as if to say, "You see me Mommy??  I'm over here!! You see?!"

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As always I have a hard time sitting still during the show. The singing...the dancing...the drumming - it stirs my soul in such a way that I just want to get up and join in! You can pretty much guarantee I'll be moved to tears and this year was no different. Cash, a few days earlier you had told me that the song "For Good" with its beautiful message would probably make me cry. So when you looked over at me at the end of the song, I gestured that I was tearing up to let you know you were absolutely right! 

 

"Who can say if I've been changed for the better? 
I do believe I have been changed for the better
And because I knew you...
Because I knew you...
Because I knew you... I've been changed for good."
 

It's obviously no secret to you that I cry when I hear certain songs. Whether in church or at the Harlem School for the Arts show. That's just something you guys know about me. But I'm learning that you are like that too. While looking at videos of the show later that night, I turned to my left and my right, overwhelmed to see that both of you had tears welling up in your eyes. And this isn't the first time. Watching your emotional selves develop, I am touched by your compassion and most of all the love growing in your hearts. To me, that is better than any machismo. We have enough of that in the world. More men with open minds and sensitive hearts - that's what the world needs.

What a thrill to see you boys onstage using your small bodies as a form of self-expression! I was bursting with happiness and I know this because Daddy shared a photo he secretly took during the show. If that's not a mother's joy beaming in all directions, then I don't what is.

Bravó boys! Cheers to a great performance and a terrific summer's end. I love you both so dearly.  

Always & Forever, Mom            

Letters To My Sons | July

Dear boys,

Here you are sitting on a bench outside of Gofer's Ice Cream in Greenwich. Despite those times Grey frustrates, annoys, irritates and copies you Cash, it's touching to see there is nobody else who causes such a belly laugh. Soon laughing through ice-cream goatees about who had more chocolate stains on their white shirt, Daddy and I just looked at each other shaking our heads. Our way of saying All our work for all their joy as you sat dripping in summer's sweetness.  

As vehicularly obsessed New Yorkers, this month we set out on the ultimate undertaking - to ride as many different types of transportation in NYC in a single day! We took the express A train down to 59th Street, the crosstown city bus to Second Avenue, the Roosevelt Tramway to/from the island, and caught a taxi down to 34th street where we watched helicopters take off and land at the heliport. Once aboard the ferry we cruised down the East River to Wall Street where we got off and rode the express train back up to Harlem. For just a couple of Metrocard swipes (you guys are still free!) and the cost of a short taxi ride you had an absolute blast, Cash telling me at bedtime, "Mommy this was one of the best days ever!" 

 

 

At the airport on our way to Grandma and Pow Pow's house, you watched planes come and go from a window, still small enough to fit snugly together. There are days when it feels like all I do is mediate jealous battles, but I am reminded of the countless hours you are connected, watching, riding and constructing various travel modes. 

Therein lies the advantage of having two. The togetherness of brotherhood.

 

 

 

 

It rained while we were in Sewickley nearly every day, but during a lull I took you to the giant Adirondack chair in front of the firehouse. Maybe it was put there for photo ops just like this - I dunno, but we sure used it as such. You guys went into total VOGUE mode, the most hysterical part being Grey's nearly identical pose in every shot!  Go Grey! Strike a pose. Yeah, just one pose. Over and over. 

 

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In a couple of weeks, it will be National Sons & Daughters Day, which they say is a time to "reflect on the joy that children bring to your life". You boys do just that. You bring great joy to me and Daddy. And this month has been filled with the joy of adventure, bright sunglasses, chocolate ice-cream messes and the sweet sounds of laughter.  

These are our summer days.

I love you boys.

Always & forever. Mom 

Letters To My Sons | June

Dear Cash,

You have been waiting for your first tooth to fall out for months. At school your class had become a pack of vampires and you were anxious for your turn. Then one day I noticed teeth coming up behind your bottom baby ones which your dentist said is referred to as "shark teeth".  It seems you were literally turning into your favorite creature!  The newspaper headline would read: "Shark Fanatic Becomes His Obsession!"  Although your two baby teeth were a little loose, the dentist wasn't sure how long it would take for them to fall out on their own. Since it wasn't a good idea to delay on this, she offered us two options:

1. Go home and eat apples and bagels to loosen them more and come back in a week if they don't fall out.

2. Pull them out today! 

Thinking about having to make another trip to the dentist in a week, I looked at you lying there in the dentist's chair and said, "Whaddaya say we just take them out today Cash? Let's just do it and get it over with."  Without any hesitation you shook your head yes, and in that moment I saw the dentist's look of surprise as my warrior boy fearlessly said, "Let's do it now."  

Since you were a baby you have been shockingly brave. Not a single immunization shot ever brought you to tears and your pediatrician still claims to have never met a patient like you. "A total dream" she says. When you needed a filling last year, the sight of a giant needle going in your mouth didn't rattle you a bit. So when the dentist pulled me aside to talk about what was about to take place, I knew all I had to do was go over it with you honestly and directly. As long as I kept it real with you, you'd be totally cool. Oddly, I felt the need to assure the dentist you'd be fine more than the need to assure you. Then it was back to the waiting room with Grey. 

I knew you wouldn't need me to stay with you. I didn't even ask because I'm familiar with the depth of your courage, never wanting to undermine it with "Do you need me to stay with you?"  It's one of the things I love so much about you. Your courage comes from deep within and as your mother, this is my ultimate wish -- for you to be brave, capable and fiercely independent. 

It wasn't 15 minutes before the dentist came to say she was finished, appearing in a state of shock that she just numbed a six year-old with a giant needle and pulled two teeth from his mouth without so much as a peep. I was bursting with pride inside. Way to go Cash!

When I squeeze you tight I always say, "You know I love you right? You know that right? (more squeezes) You are my sweetheart."

I think about whether I tell you this enough. And then it will be morning again and time for our ritual good-bye on the school steps. It's always the same: You give me a kiss, followed up with two BIG hugs. Then when you get to the top of the steps you blow me a kiss and finally as I'm walking away you call out "Mommy!!" to show me the heart you made with your hands. You don't care who is watching and you never have. My only hope is you never will.

You are such a beautiful young boy Cash. You wear your heart on your sleeve and yet carry the bravery of a thousand soldiers within.

Your new smile is dazzling and so bravely earned. How funny that you couldn't wait to lose your first tooth, and in just one afternoon you lost TWO!!

I love you sweet warrior.

Always & forever, Mom

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

Letters To My Sons | April

April was a big month for our family. First the Montenegros came to visit, then a week later Grandma and Pow Pow came for their first Grandparents Day at MCS. They got to visit your school Cash, meet your teachers and classmates we've talked so much about, see your 100 days project on display (the shark jaw with 100 teeth!), play Connect Four and do a fun interview exchange. When I asked Grandma and Pow Pow at the end of their five day visit, what their favorite part of the whole trip was, they both agreed it was visiting their grandsons' schools.

[ Pow Pow / Grandma / Cash interviews ]

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The morning of your school visit, Pow Pow asked if you like any of the girls in your class. "No! I don't like girls Pow Pow!", you said, glancing over at me to confirm our secret. I'm still the only one who knows you like Clara. You've told nobody else -- not Daddy, not your teacher Anna. It's our little secret that has its own hand symbol (the peace sign) for when we want to talk about it. I did however, quietly let Grandma and Pow Pow to keep an eye out for a little girl named Clara and of course, they could figure out why.

 

There was another big "Clara" event this month worth mentioning. Each Monday morning you get assigned a new partner for the week, someone to hold hands with when your class goes to the playground or Central Park. You told me if you were ever to be partnered with Clara you would be both "terrified and excited". 

"But Mommy," you said one Sunday morning with great concern, "it's getting close to the end of the year and I haven't been partnered with Clara yet."  

Later that evening I sent Anna an email describing our conversation and well what do you know! The following morning your name was beside Clara's on the partner list! 

 

 

When you walked in the classroom and saw the board, you immediately ran to the bathroom to go pee and poop! You told me you weren't sure you'd be able to survive the whole week -- it seems your nerves were almost too much to bear. After lunch when your class went outside, you shared that you and Clara played "I Spy with My LIttle Eye" as you walked hand in hand toward Central Park.

Well, if I were to play that game, I would say that "I spy with my little eye" a boy with a BIG crush -- a sweet and nervous romeo whom I hope always feels comfortable enough to confide in me his deepest heart secrets. 

After spending the morning at MCS, Grandma and Pow Pow tagged along to pick up Grey. Amazingly it was their first time visiting Columbus Preschool. They met your teachers Grey and saw the fabulous art you made for your upcoming show. We had lunch at Artie's afterwards, which was your own special time with them. As a family we did other things that were particularly fun for you - like the Cirque de Soleil type show for kids called "Something" at the New Victory Theater and the Gazillion Bubble Show. You had been asking for weeks - no, months! - when Grandma and Pow Pow were coming. Now that they were finally here, you couldn't be happier.  

The last night of their visit was HUGE for you Cash! After dining out with the grownups at a fancy restaurant in Hells Kitchen, we took you to your first Broadway show! You had a GOLDEN TICKET to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - one of your all-time favorite stories. The evening was definitely one of pure imagination, made more special by the fact that you stayed up way past your bedtime, walking around the vibrant streets of Times Square with those who love you most.

Grey, you're still a little too young to sit through an entire Broadway show, but not to worry, your time will come. We set you up with a favorite babysitter, pizza dinner, and a couple of new Magnatile cars which seemed to be just fine. And already you're asking when we will see Grandma and Pow Pow again -- we all are!  It was a special visit chock-full of memories to last a lifetime.

As Willy Wonka says, "Time is a precious thing. Never waste it." 

And we shan't. 

I love you sons.

Always & forever,

Mom

Letters To My Sons | March

Three Shades of Grey: Hustla, Lover Boy and Easy G

Of course there are multitude of shades, but these three are pretty consistent. Hustla is your preference when having your picture taken. Like a jailhouse pose Daddy and I will tease, honestly not knowing where you conjure up that swagger. I mean you're only three years old! I recently showed a photo of you to my doctor - the one who brought you into this world - and you know what she said?  She said, "Oh Sarah! You're gonna have to always be a stay at home mom just to watch over this one! And where did he learn that look??...with those green eyes! Girl, you are gonna be BUSYYY!"

She's right too. Which leads me to shade "Lover Boy". That was your look when I popped my head above the camera and said "Milly". Your eyes lit up and softened as you revealed your trademark smirk. Milly is the girl in your class you've liked since the first day of preschool. It turns out that a couple of the boys like Milly. She's feisty and likes trains and airplanes which she'll often bring to school. You told me recently that Milly now likes another boy in the class named Louie, though you seemed only mildly disappointed. "It's okay Grey," I said, though I probably didn't even need to, "there will be plenty of other girls. I can promise you that." 

Along with your lover boy tendencies, you also score high in protective instincts. While waiting to cross the street, you firmly wrap your arms around me to shield me from cars zooming past. "Don't worry Mommy, I 'tecting you." And when I forgot my gloves one very cold morning, you cupped your hands around mine - "My hands are big, right mommy?!" - telling everyone in sight you were keeping mommy's hands warm. Your protective instincts most definitely include your big brother as well, as you shield him from us whenever he's in trouble. I'm pretty certain there will come a day when you will step up to bat for Cash in a major way. Call it a hunch, but I don't think you will be one to take any bullshit. 

Then there's Easy G who is cool as a cucumber. Your relaxed self is quite the opposite of your spazzy "testosteronified" shade - yes, I made that word up just for you! - and we love it. Like when you make your body as small as possible, curling up like a cat to fit on Daddy's lap. Or when you immerse yourself in imaginative play - finding places on the carpet to line up all your cars, building fantastical structures with blocks and magnatiles and creating elaborate train tracks throughout the apartment. That just never gets old! Then there's your ultimate chill out spot - the bathtub - where you'll sometimes stay for up to an hour, getting out only when your fingers and toes are grossly wrinkled.

The other day on our walk to the subway, we came upon a giant bulldozer tearing up the street and watched in amazement as the machine tore back huge chunks of asphalt, carefully dropping them into a nearby dumpster. It was then you decided you wanted to go to "bulldozer school" to become a bulldozer driver when you are "growed up". I told you I was all for it. Without question you've got the strength and tasmanian zeal to do it --- to tackle anything in life for that matter. 

Dedicated to my Hustla, Lover boy, and Easy G --- these shades and the many others which you possess will catapult you into a galaxy of stars not a one lacking luster. But for now, while we're here together on this earth, you continue to be my superstar. I love you G.    

Always & forever,

Mom 

 

 

 

Letters To My Sons | February

Dear Cash,

The 10th and 17th were special days for you this month, however, waiting for them to arrive wasn't so easy. At least at first. You see, it was the end of December when, after delving back into your shark fanaticism, you mentioned that you wanted to get a Megalodon tooth. I agreed as long as you earned your own money for it. We searched for fossils on eBay until we found one that you could afford. Though it wasn't the most expensive Megalodon tooth (very rare ones over 7" long can run into the hundreds), we found a 5 1/2 " one that with dedication and patience, would be yours by February 10th. 

At first you didn't like the idea of having to wait almost two months for your Megalodon tooth. Not surprisingly, you wanted it right away. Especially since this all coincided with a notice from your teacher that your class would be doing "shares" through February 17th, with yours scheduled for mid-January. You knew you wouldn't have your tooth by then and were crushed. 

While walking to the subway after school, through your quiet tears, I suggested we ask your teacher if we could move yours to February 17th, which would give you the extra time needed. We talked about how grownups do this all the time; they work for things they really want even though it can feel like forever to save up enough. But how satisfying it feels when you finally earn something so precious. You managed to come around to the idea, recognizing that it actually could be good thing to talk about with your friends, and wiped away your tears in true Cash commitment.

 

That evening Anna emailed back saying that your share was officially moved to the 17th, and the first thing you did was make a calendar of the days you had left. You wanted something you could cross off each night before bed, most importantly I presume, to help pass the time. 

Every morning you eagerly asked what your jobs were for the day -- such things as carrying the grocery bags, drying the dishes, cleaning windows, sweeping the floor, making your bed, reading books to Grey, cleaning the bathroom (sink and toilet!), lugging the laundry bag, putting away folded clothes and emptying the waste baskets. You would do around 3 jobs per day, collecting $1.00 to put in your "CASH BOX". 

 

You kept a sketchbook filled with drawings and descriptions of all of your jobs, and each night religiously put on "X" on your calendar. The Megalodon tooth remained in the office closet (following a contentious ebay win) until you had finally earned enough. As I watched you hold the tooth with such care and elation, turning it over and over in your hands, it was clear that your new possession meant more to you because of the wait. Because you worked for it.

When the day of your school share arrived, you brought your Megalodon tooth along with a list of facts about where it was found. You shared details about the shark itself (three times bigger than a Great White) and used a measuring tape to show your friends the difference in size between the Megalodon tooth and that of its Great White relative. You told me that you were a little shy at the beginning of your share, but once you started reading to your friends, you felt better. "I worked through it Mommy." And your teacher said that she didn't notice any nervousness whatsoever. So Bravo "Cash the Shark" (a nickname your classmates have appropriately given you) for a job well done! 

This February was kind of like "Shark Month" in our house; one snowy day you worked on your "100 days of school" project - painting a Great White portrait, while another day we spent making frosted shark cookies. 

However, I will remember most the lessons you learned and the patience you garnered in working toward your goal. You're already talking about earning more teeth for your collection, though the next one might very well be your own since you officially have your first wiggly tooth! And who knows, the tooth fairy just might put a $1.00 in your "CASH BOX". 

I love you Cashew!  Always & forever, Mom

Letters To My Sons | January

Grey Grey ~ such a big boy now at the barbershop! 

It has taken awhile for us to get to this point. Over a year ago we tried to coax you into Henry's chair, hoping that by first watching your big brother you would summon the necessary courage. But nope. You cried and hid under my arm, totally refusing to go near him or his chair. Thankfully Henry was wise enough to tell us it wasn't time yet. He didn't want to force you. And so we waited.

Then just like that, one day you said, "Mommy, I'm a big boy now. I'm going to the barber like Cash." 

In these photos you look like a deer caught in headlights, but actually you weren't afraid at all. You were so proud, sitting high up on the booster seat in your absolute stillness as the clippers moved across your head. I think your bravery even surprised you a bit. 

After trying out a few barbers over the years with Cash, we were grateful to have found Henry at THE ONE 48 Barbershop right up the block from us. Henry is Dominican and knows just how to work with your mixed race hair. There's always a wait to get in his chair so we do just that. With Latin music blasting, you and Cash pass the time shaking your booties and cracking up the other barbers. Henry has a propensity for showing up late - "Too much tequila anoche Henry??" we'll tease. But we've grown accustomed to this lateness and don't mind since he is master of the clippers.  

You always let us know when your time is right. That's one of your special gifts Grey Bear. You ended up letting us know you were ready and thankfully you only had to endure one dreadful haircut from Daddy. He attempted to give you a fade with a regular clipper, before learning later that you actually need a fade clipper to do that. Your hair looked like a topographical map of varying lengths, and was so bad that Daddy ran you over to Henry for some damage control. Henry felt sorry enough for Daddy that he let him go ahead of two people so he wouldn't be late for work. It was then that Henry turned with a smile and said, "So I guess now I'm officially his barber?"

Yup, Henry, you're not just Cash's barber anymore. Your newest client is named Grey. He is resolutely patient, brave and loves a good barbershop fiesta.

And to our little big boy ~ Grey Grey ~ we wish you many more fades in your new barber's chair and many more moments where you teach us all about good timing.  

I love you.

Always & forever, 

Mom

Letters To My Sons | December

It's that time of year again! Time to visit Santa - the very best Santa in New York City with a real beard and cherub cheeks at ABC Carpet. This now our third year we've really got the hang of it. We even have some friends we've come to know over the years who have the same game plan as us: Go the first Sunday after Thanksgiving when most New Yorkers are still out of town, park for free right in front of the building so kids can stay warm inside the car and most importantly, arrive 90 minutes early to beat the line that quickly wraps around the block. Last year we were actually the first, but this year I'll admit, it was better to be third. More time to take off coats, fiddle with my camera settings and capture those excited looks just before the big moment. 

As opposed to last year when Grey sat next to Santa on Daddy's lap, apprehensively leaning as far away as possible, this year he assured me he was going to sit on Santa's lap.  

"I not afraid mommy!" 

"Really?! That's great Grey! What are you going to tell Santa you'd like for Christmas?"

"Trucks and cars!"

"Cash, what about you? What are you going to ask Santa to bring?"

"Big Robots"

"What are those?!" 

"Big fighting robots Mommy! That have remote controls!"

After visiting with Father Christmas he gave you guys a special treat. Every year it's something different and this time it was a strawberry and creme pinwheel lollipop that you couldn't wait to eat. As we walked out of ABC Carpet we bid farewell to our friends. "See you guys next year!" 

It's been a month full of magical chaos in our little home in Harlem. George the Elf made his return from the North Pole and has been spotted each morning in a new place. The first thing you guys do when you wake up is go on a search for George. Of course I've woken up in a cold sweat a couple of nights wondering if I remembered to move him. 

Cash, you wrote a couple of letters to Santa this season and the day we opened the mailbox to find a letter back from him, you ran toward the apartment door screaming, "Daddy! Daddy!! Santa wrote back! He wrote me back!"

But there was one morning that touched my heart most of all. During breakfast you said, "Mommy, I'm going to write a letter to Mrs. Claus today because nobody really talks about her and how much work she does at Christmas time." 

How true Cash! And what a nice and thoughtful thing to do! It might even make up some for the naughty things you've done like pick on your little brother. 

As I've told you many times, once you stop believing Santa stops coming. So just keep believing, and I'm sure George, Santa (and definitely Mrs. Claus!) will work hard to make your Christmas a Merry one.

I love you sons!  

Always & forever, Mom

Letters To My Sons | November

My little rockstars,

No, these candids have nothing to do with Halloween, even though that's in the very recent past. It's just you guys doing what you do best, led mostly of course by big brother.  Cash, you'll style Grey similar to yourself in whatever you might be rockin at the time, and then Grey falls right into character, syncing with your every move. As we made our way home from school this particular day you guys were donning your "cool rockstar" bling. There was a point where I just said, "Ok, go for it guys! Give me your best moves!" and started firing away with my camera. Those shots are always my favorite, where I capture your personalities at play, more often than not laughing behind the camera.   

I was telling Grandma the other day that whenever I meet another mother of only boys, it's like meeting a kindred spirit. No, we don't have a secret handshake or anything like that. We'll just kind of nod our heads and grin, skipping ahead several chapters in the get-to-know-you routine. The boy moms I've met are laid back, fine tuned in the art of mediation, able to maintain extraordinarily high energy and accustomed to incessantly loud noise. They're not fussy about property damage, have learned quickly to always check the toilet seat first, and aren't rattled by risky behavior or gross bathroom talk. It's not hard then to understand why I find instant connection with other boy moms. And since I always wanted be one, there isn't a day that I'm not thankful to be a member of this group. 

You two have your own distinct personalities, but when you come together it's a molotov cocktail of energy. How fun to capture you guys in various swagger! Just brothers being silly, totally vogueing out in the streets of your neighborhood.

I love being a mom to only boys and yet, in the back of my mind I'm always thinking about the great task at hand. To raise kind, conscious and strong young men who will one day be someone's loving spouse, someone's good neighbor, co-worker and most importantly someone's trusting best friend. All the while still holding on to the "littleness" of you, those tiny (dirty!) hands reaching out for mine and the hugs and kisses that turn my heart into confetti. And then of course those moments when you throw down and TURN. IT. OUT. with the coolest of moves. Like true rockstars.

I love being your Mom -- a steadfast boys mom.

Always & forever.

Letters To My Sons | October

Hey Hey Hey...

What's up strong and tall little boy! The three year old wearing 5T clothing (Cash's clothes from just last year!). The fearless one who chases after the ball for his older brother after it's rolled into the dark room at the end of the hallway. And the tough cookie who bangs his head on concrete and bounces back quicker than you can say, "What happened?". Although you may not be all that interested in looking at books or being read to, are quite likely to leave an activity unfinished and are known to walk out of a movie before it's over, you are boundless in your physicality. You, G Money, are our bruiser for sure. 

You are also lavish with opinions. Such strong likes and dislikes you aren't afraid to share with us. Who cares about that yellow caution line? I wanna look for the oncoming train!! And oh yeah, I want to sit with my face in the seat and my butt in the air while I plow my weight against you. You and Cash are squishing the stranger next to you? Oh well, it's fun for me. No doubt you've got an entertainer streak and will do just about anything to get a laugh. Every day you manage to create nonsensical rap songs with accompanying booty dances to crack us up. Then if you are trying to smooth things over, you've got that down too. You bat your eyes, tilt your head and open up your arms for a hug. "I luh you mommy," you say with the execution of a skilled manipulator. A sweet college girl actually told me the other day that with those green eyes of yours, you're gonna get your way a lot. Mmm-hmmm.... 

She said this as she walked by us taking pictures. Not really one for posing, you decided that on THIS day you were going to do so and meticulously scouted each location along our walk to Cash's school. There is a little doorway you like to stand against and I have to say, it does create some dreamy open shade. I was able to capture those eyes that young lady was talking about. 

Next you wanted to sit on the bench in front of the crepería where I caught you mid-laugh. That's the mischief we know. The big personality who loves dancing and pretending to be shot down in combat with your brother. Your dramatics are just that. Dramatic. And your independence is thriving. Each morning on our way to school you ask Cash and I to meet you at the bottom of the stairs while you take the elevator by yourself. Oh yeah, that "By Yourself" bit is huuuuge these days.  

Sheesh. You even potty trained yourself this past month. One day you just decided you were done with diapers (much to my delight since I was really lagging on this). Second child syndrome? It's quite possible. I was just hoping that either Cash would show you how or you would just figure it out on your own. Which you did! And have managed to only have two accidents since then. The first was when you went number two at the same time I was. There we were in the bathroom, both of us pants down trying to clean up the mess that was all over you and the floor while Cash stood by hysterically laughing. 

 

And the other time was at the playground when you soaked through your sweatpants. You seemed totally cool with it and wanted to keep playing but we decided it was best for us to leave in order to avoid the gasps and eye rolls from other parents - and any possible chafing. We walked home the ten blocks rather than wet some cabbie's backseat and as Daddy said, "It was good to air you out!"  Again, you didn't seem to mind at all. It was just another example of your "Don't Give A  ----" personality, which of course, drives me crazy a great deal of the time, but I know will serve you well in life. And yes, I STILL want to eat that cute face of yours. Those cheeks so irresistible, those McDonald's arch eyebrows and that pipsqueak voice.

My little Harlem boy ~ I want to thank you for finding this perfect doorway. We got some of your best portraits here. May you continue to be that warrior whose greatest superpower will ALWAYS be those devilish green eyes. 

I love you Grey Bear.

Always & forever, Mom

Letters To My Sons | September

Dearest sons,

This September was a busy month. It was back to school for both of you, a 6th birthday for one of you and the beginning of my fourth year of "Letters". Throw in all the emotions and preparations for those things and you've got yourself quite the whirly rig. 

Grey, this fall you returned to Columbus Preschool in the 3's program five mornings a week, while Cash, you made the big move to Manhattan Country School as a kindergartener. It's all new for you this year after being at Columbus for four years, so lots of anticipation. Below are the snapshots I took outside of our apartment on your respective "first days".     

Grey, yours involved a short morning circle followed by an activity with half your class and since Daddy was able to come you were extra happy. To get to know everyone's names, the teachers started singing, "Bumblebee Bumblebee, Won't you say your name for me?"  and when it was your turn to say your name you went silent, curling shyly against Daddy's chest. Rather adorable for us grownups watching. Then the next day you made sure to tell me that you said your name in front of all your "new friends". 

Cash, your first "meet-and-greet" at Manhattan Country School went really well. I think it was because I was with you those 30 minutes you saw your classroom and met your new teacher and a couple of classmates. The photo above was taken around the block from the school and your smile is dazzling. It was the next morning that was an emotional wrecking ball. Parents were told to make drop off as brief as possible - in other words, cut the cord - and you not only knew this but felt it deeply, burying yourself under my bedcovers pleading to not have to go. Through the most gut wrenching sobs you kept telling me how scared you were and that your stomach was hurting. You cried on the subway and during our walk to the school, pulling your shirt up over your face so nobody could see. There was no amount of assurance or explaining that was any comfort to you. You were completely terrified and though I didn't let on, my heart was in a million pieces. 

All I could do was give you a tool to help you cope. I told you that when you felt really sad you could pull your teacher aside and let her know. That she would be understanding and surely has dealt with other children who have felt like you. You reluctantly agreed. When I picked you up at the end of the day, I asked if you talked with your teacher and you told me you didn't have to. "As the morning went along I wasn't sad anymore Mommy. I mean, I was a tiny bit sad when you first left but then I was okay."  And there you have it my love. You made it through your first terrifying transition with the bravery of a thousand soldiers.

Later that evening I received a touching email from your teacher Anna. She told me she that a few of you were sitting at the playdough table talking about having more than one feeling at a time (namely nervousness and excitement). She said that you shared how you'd been crying so much that morning and were scared to come to a new school but that you were no longer worried. I was so happy to learn you were one of the first to self-reflect and share your feelings with the group, which I find to be quite brave - especially since during our walk to school you didn't want anyone to see that you were upset. 

SIX

Grey, you love Cash's school so much I think you'd rather be going there. And hopefully you will be next year. Every day you get so excited to go pick up Cash, peeking inside his classroom and doing the happy dance until they open the door for the parents. I doubt you will have any fears going there next year since by then you will be so familiar with the place.

We are in our third week of school now and I have to say you both have done a wonderful job transitioning into your new classrooms. There was the second day Cash, when you said, "I'm going to be sad because I have to go a full day without you Mommy." You really got me with that one. I swear, it's amazing how much love and gratitude is within that little heart of yours.

In fact, just the other day we stayed out past your bedtime for a sundowner with friends which you were so excited about. As the sun was setting you ran over to make sure I saw it, pointing toward the horizon. "Isn't it beautiful Mommy?! This is the best night ever!" A fellow Mom overheard this and said, "Awww, I wish my kids said things like that! Instead of always complaining and saying, 'I'm bored.'" 

 

There was also the time recently when I was watching some movie while you were coloring and a sentimental song started playing. Without looking up from coloring you said, "Mommy, I think I'm going to cry."  "Why?" I asked. "Because the music is making me feel something. It's making me sad."  Your heart felt the sadness in the song; the music quite literally moved you to tears. Though I guess I shouldn't be surprised since you have always been of the empathic, romantic sort. You observe the beautiful and the sad; you see it and you feel it. And I pray you always will.

We just celebrated your sixth birthday and one of the first things you said to me was, "I know you might be a little sad Mom, because I'm six now, but don't worry, even when I'm older and if I'm mean to you, it doesn't mean I don't love you. I'll always love you."

And I'll always love you son. Welcome to SIX. You'd better rock it!

Grey & Cash - you boys are the chambers of my heart and I am so proud of the fortitude with which you tackled your new beginnings this month.

I love you both to the galaxy and back.

Always & forever,

Mom  

 

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