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  

 

Treehouse Tag

Brothers in arms during a game of tag at the playground. 

Happy first day of autumn!

National Grandparents Day!

"Nobody can do for little children what grandparents do. Grandparents sort of sprinkle stardust over the lives of little children." ~ Alex Haley

Happy Grandparents Day Grandma & Pow Pow!

Our boys are blessed to know you, to love you, to be loved by you.

 

Letters To My Sons | August

Dear boys,

Well, this concludes another year of "Letters" and the end of another summer well spent. We've visited family in various places, ridden ferries and gondolas, been to the beach, Cape Cod, the boardwalk, arts camp, the Catskills and Connecticut, Grandma & Pow Pow's and most recently perched in front of the air-conditioner during these brutally hot August days.  

I happen to love this photo of the two of you with Cash looking directly at the camera and Grey behind his sunglasses distracted by any number of things - a car, a bus, a garbage truck, a dog pooping. It encapsulates your personalities (and probably a few birth order traits!) perfectly.  

One of the main challenges this summer was often keeping you guys safe from one other. There would be fights over toys, personal space and the focus of my attention. But for the most part you were able to play endlessly with your imaginations and high voltage energy. You'd dress each other in superhero costumes (sometimes made up of household objects) and play fight with your swords and lego guns for what seemed like hours. I'd often think to myself, this is the gift of a sibling, the gift of a brother. You are truly each other's forever playmate. 

Amazingly we survived the never-ending heatwave this month with only one trip to the emergency room. Hours of ninja, warrior kung-fu gymastics off the furniture in a small space - yeah, I'm not surprised. What does surprise me is how we managed to go this long without incident or injury. And then it happened. Little brother poked a finger into big brother's eye during one of the battles. Cash, rarely do you cry and even more rarely do you want to go to the doctor, but after a few hours with your eye watering and your vision blurry, we decided to go. Piled into a cab on one of the hottest and most humid days in New York history, I snapped a picture with my phone. Despite the purpose of our trip, I found the expressions on your faces hilarious - especially that of you Grey -- the culprit. 

As soon as we got to the clinic, I began to question whether or not we needed to be there. While waiting for the doctor to come in the room, you guys were back to your usual antics, eye injury be damned. But I figured at least if something happened we were already in doctor's care. We ended up leaving with a prescription for eye drops as the doctor and I had our own private eye roll -- "life with boys" -- and headed home in another sweltering taxi.  

Sometimes you cause bodily injury to one another, but the times you comfort, encourage and protect each other stand out the most for me. One of those moments this summer was at the beach when Grey was too scared to walk to the edge of the water. That is until Cash reached out for his hand. Daddy and I were sitting underneath the cabana when we happened to see this tender gesture of love. 

The other morning I was lying on the couch when the two of you crawled in under the blanket, one on either side of me. I thought to myself, how incredible that all three of us fit together like sardines, realizing one day you two might be six feet tall and won't imagine a time when this was possible. Right then I said a little prayer of thanks for you two boys, my sons. I love you more than you could possibly know.

With you I celebrate another collection of summer days and the end of another year of "Letters" filled with chapters of your childhood.

I love you. Always & forever, Mom

Who We Become | July's Hotshot

Summer is for childhood and having fun. And what's more fun than a hay jumping in a barn on a beautiful day?! Here's my oldest son just before he took the plunge and this month's Hotshot.

Click HERE to visit our collective site, Who We Become, to see a gallery of our July hotshots. Or follow along the circle starting with my talented friend Stacey Vukelj. 

Before the Drop

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.    

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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.  

 

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"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

Who We Become | June's Hotshot

We are in the thick of Little League season and another undefeated run for the Harlem Bulldogs. Heading back to the field after an inning packed with runs are my son (#4) and his teammates, making the cut as this month's hotshot. 

Please click HERE to visit our collective site, Who We Become, to see a mosaic gallery of our June images. You can also follow along the circle starting with my ultra talented friend Lisa Rigazio. 

The Graduate

It's not easy moving through a sea of parent "iphoneographers" at a preschool graduation with a larger "real" camera, but somehow I managed to capture this moment. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, my first official preschool graduate. Sweet as a rose.