Lately I’ve been doing a lot of behind-the-scenes maintenance work on my blog (tagging and categorizing) and in the process, I noticed how infrequently I write about my son. I was initially surprised by this because he is my sweet little pookie-wookie, smooshy-wooshy momma’s boy, and I adore him to pieces. But after thinking about it, I realized it’s because he’s, well, easy. He’s consistently cool, calm, and collected; he can entertain himself for hours; and he rarely causes a ruckus or throws a tantrum. He generally listens, asks permission, is almost always agreeable, and doesn’t have an impolite bone in his body. In a nutshell, parenting him is a relative breeze (fingers crossed I don’t jinx myself!). And that just isn’t conducive to good ’ole “bitch-writing,” an art I’m sure you would all agree I’ve perfected here on this blog. Am I right?
But he deserves some airtime, too. So, without further ado, let me tell you about my precious boy and why he is the most delightful little person I’ve ever known:
- No matter what life throws his way (or how much sleep he gets), he’s always happy, loving, and chill. Rare are the days when he is moody, whiny, or clingy and if he is, there’s usually a good reason for it. He is my breath of crisp, fresh air on a stale, humid, muggy day.
- He refuses to indulge his big sister’s sullen silences and pouting. Instead, he softly asks where her big smile is and when she finally caves and gives him one, he responds: “Now, there’s my sister’s big smile. That’s what I like to see.”
- He has the cutest “accent”: he pronounces shark like “showk” and heart like “howt.”
- He is a dinosaur fanatic—is there a word stronger or more emphatic than fanatic?—and the amount of knowledge he has for all things dinosaur is … mind-boggling. His favorite is the T-Rex, of course, because he is “ginormous and dangerous” and “has sharp teeth the size of bananas” (these are direct quotes, FYI).
- He misuses words in a way that’s both hilarious and heartwarming: daddy legs longs, astinstin (assistant), lirally (literally), catar (guitar), struction (instruction). He also calls shorts “short pants.”
- He is polite to a fault.
- He lets me smother his face with light butterfly kisses (“now that’s what I like,” he exclaims), he says “I love you” when you need to hear it the most, and he gives the absolute best “huggies.”
- Every morning in the drop-off queue at his preschool (before schools closed and we went into lockdown), he would set the tone for my day with this delectable phrase: “Mommy, I’m gonna have a great day today!” I used to remind myself of this every time I felt my mood disintegrating in the monotony of life.
- Like his daddy, he appreciates (and lovingly points out) the beauty of the world around him: blue skies; pretty birds; adorable bunnies hopping around our yard; puffy, white clouds; beautiful flowers (or even a group of weeds); a colorful butterfly sitting on a leaf, etc.
- Whenever my daughter and I get dressed up or fix our hair (a rarity these days) he always notices and never fails to offer up a compliment, in that sugary sweet I-want-to-eat-him-up voice of his: “You look so beautiful Isabella!” (or mommy).
- We nicknamed him “the landscape murderer” because we have yet to find a bush, hedge, flower, or tree around our yard that he hasn’t hammered, cut, or picked to death.
- He has the best belly laugh. I honestly don’t have the words to describe how exquisite and cathartic it is (at least for me), but I hope he carries that laugh, that pure boundless joy, with him forever.
- He walks around wearing my daughter’s dress-up princess heels—and rocks them like he’s strutting down a Vogue runway during Fashion Week.
- When it’s his turn to choose a film for Sunday family movie night, he is just as likely to choose Beauty & The Beast or Cinderella as he is Aladdin or “Captain Hook.”
- He talks literally nonstop, from the second he wakes in the morning to the minute his head hits the pillow at bedtime, mostly about dinosaurs but he can cover, oh, I don’t know, probably a gazillion topics throughout his 12-plus-hour day. In that same vein, he sings like there’s no tomorrow. Many times, he invents his own lyrics (just like daddy!) around whatever he happens to be doing in that moment. For example, if he’s brushing his teeth or making his bed, he will sing the steps he’s taking while he completes these activities. But he also walks around singing songs he’s heard on Pandora. His current classic faves are “Maneater” by Hall & Oats and “I’m Still Standing,” by Elton John.
- His dreams always involve things like mommy getting eaten by an Indominus Rex or daddy falling into the La Brea Tar Pits (yes, he knows all about the La Brea Tar Pits).
- The other night we were having homemade triple berry ice cream for dessert. My son was mixing his with chocolate sauce and as he was stirring it all around, out of nowhere he said: “Mom and dad, did you know another word for “mix” is “agitate”?” What?! My husband and I were so flabbergasted that we both busted out laughing. We asked him where he learned this word and he replied “Ryan.” In case you’re wondering, he’s referring to the YouTube channel called “Ryan’s World”—an educational show for kids.
- He prances around the house wearing a stuffed purple and green dinosaur tail that we received as a favor at a birthday party. And just yesterday he strutted into the kitchen wearing a cowboy hat, exclaiming he had “lost his horse,” LOL. I adore listening to him pretend play—he has such a vivid imagination.
- He thinks he’s Superman—his favorite superhero—and often makes-believe with his dinosaurs, saying “I’ll get you next time, Lex Luthor” (of course using a deep, booming, gravelly voice).
- He’s terrified of—and fascinated by—spiders and yet he studies them and watches oodles and oodles of videos about them. He can tell you all about Black Widows and the Goliath birdeater, but he claims his favorite is the Trap-door spider because it “hides and jumps out to capture its prey”—his words, not mine (I’m shuddering as I write about these creepy crawlies).
- He “breakdances,” and I think it might be the cutest thing I’ve ever witnessed in the whole wide world (OK, fine, maybe I am slightly biased). Really, he just kicks his leg up and rolls around on the floor, but … it is surely a sight for sore eyes, let me tell you. 😊
And there you have it, a loving tribute to my son. He’s such a good boy, I could go on and on about my sweet little Mister Sambucs (pronounced Sam-boocs, it’s a play on Sambuca [yes, the liqueur], a nickname I gave him a few years back).
Ya know, it’s funny how two children from the same family can be so different, and how each can clearly mirror one parent. My daughter is the opposite of my son: spicy, sassy, and precocious as hell, with the attitude and tone to pull it all off. She is her momma’s daughter through and through. I always joke that it’s payback from when I was a smarty pants child, LOL. Then there’s my son, who is the spitting image of my husband: even-tempered, gentle, and kind. Together, they create the perfect balance for our family and make our life complete.
I know I talk a lot of smack about parenting and being a stay-at-home, but I’m beyond grateful for every moment I have with my kids, watching them grow, learn, and find their voice. They are so pure, so innocent, so good, and I am proud and humbled to be their momma.