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 

 

Who We Become | May's Hotshots

Blues Traveler | NYC

Click HERE to visit our collective site, Who We Become, and see a mosaic of our images for May, or follow along the circle beginning with my talented friend Julie Kiernan.

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

Boy + Window

He chose where he wanted me to take his portrait - right next to the window - which in the end, I think was a pretty good decision.

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

Who We Become | January's Hotshot

I love when my muse is standing against a wall for the interesting angle it allows. If I'm lucky I'll get some wonderful leading lines and patterns. And if I'm really lucky I capture a quirky grin. 

Below is my hotshot for this month. Make sure to visit our collective site, Who We Become, to see a mosaic of our January favorites. Or click HERE to follow along the circle, starting with my good friend down in the District, Lisa Rigazio.

Boy Wonder

The Gold Standard

At least in my eyes they are. The Gold Standard of LOVE. Growing up as kids in the same neighborhood in a small Ohio town, my dad asked my mom out on a date when she was 15 and he was 16. They were sweeties throughout high school and college and on her 21st birthday, which happens to be New Year's Eve, he proposed. As Dad likes to say, "The rest is history." Indeed. Sixty years of history!

So on this New Year's Eve Mom, I would like to wish you the happiest birthday! You are 81 and so much fun! Your joy and compassion for others is such an inspiration and whether you believe it or not, you touch so many lives, namely mine, in extraordinary ways.

This day is for you!

I love you.  

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  

Who We Become | December Hotshot

Oh the weather outside is.....delightful.

When it's 64 degrees in the middle of December, what else do you do besides bird watching in the park? The Northeast has had some wildly warm, record breaking days and I can't say that we are all that disappointed. This past Sunday the boys and I spent the afternoon watching critters scurry and flutter about. The black and white photo below is my hotshot of the month, as I was particularly drawn to the various patterns, lines and the way in which their gazes intersect. Then just for fun I threw in some other shots from our spring break in December!

 

Click HERE to visit our collective site, Who We Become, to see our mosaic of December hotshots. You can also follow along the circle, starting with my dear friend Julie Kiernan. 

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 

Who We Become | November's Hotshot

A mom I know mistakenly signed her two year-old up to run in the annual Ronald McDonald Charity Run that takes place every November in Central Park. The minimum age is four. She blames it on "mommy brain" which I suffer from frequently and therefore can totally relate. Needless to say her little guy ran, was cheered on by the Yonkers fire department, and is my 'hotshot' for the month. Way to go buddy!

Click HERE to continue along the circle, starting with my talented friend Lisa Rigazio. Also visit our collective site, Who We Become, to see a mosaic of our favorite shots for the month of November.