It’s been quite a week my sweet boys. This lady has had ups and downs, fights and tears, gasps of disbelief and moments where I thought I would burst with joy. It’s also been a week where I have seen the two of you with more clarity, like I have actually looked at you. Little One, your brown eyes. I could fall into them and swim around for days. Your laugh and mischief and grab-life-by-the-cojones attitude makes my heart soar. And Big One, you have an infectious laugh and a quick wit; a depth of soul beyond your years. Sometimes in the night I lay down in bed with you because being next to your even baby-breathing is the salve for my racing mind. You made me a mother; you made me who I am today.

I found out this week that someone that I respect a tremendous amount, and really see myself in, has breast cancer. She’s young, smart, and a mama bear like me. Through all of the noise around me, I just kept thinking: her babies. And I kept hearing this voice whisper inside of me “your one wild and precious life.” Shit, we only get one. Like, I know this. But something is clicking for me now– we only get one. I have a feeling that I am going to need to do hard things with mine; to be humble, genuine and true. I am going to have to dig deep. I know I can do this; I know I can do ANYthing with you guys around. (Well, not pee alone, or shower alone, or sleep alone, or ever eat a meal without saying the words “food goes in your mouth not on the floor/dog/ceiling/brother.”) Boys, I need you to really, fundamentally, soulfully, in your bones understand that we get this one chance. This means that you need to live the most authentic life that you can. You must find the thing that makes you tick, that makes that pounding in your chest swell; makes the alarm bells go off and the adrenaline pump… and you must follow that thing until you own it live it breathe it. You must go places where you feel a little bit uncomfortable and challenge people who say mean things or act unjustly. You don’t have to do what the rest of your friends are doing; though that might be the easiest choice, it’s not the wisest. If you have art inside of you, let it out. If you want to see far corners of the world, go. If you know you need to do something to change your world, make it happen.

My solemn vow to you as your mother is to be solidly in your corner as you do all of this. I might push you out of the nest a little if I think that’s what will do you the most good, but I will support and honor your choices. I will march in your parades and always be the first to clap and the last to leave the grand orchestras of your lives.

“What will you do with your one wild and precious life?”

Tell me boys, what will you do?

xo Mom

Babies. So this weekend, as with some other weekends in life, your Papa and I spent a chunk of it arguing. Or rather, IN an argument, because a lot of it was spent not talking. But then we did talk, perhaps loudly, and Big One, it upset you. Here’s the deal in life: people mess up, sometimes REALLY big, and people who love them give them chances. I have this really bad habit of seeing things in black and white; like all right or all wrong. The truth is, life is so messy and it’s mostly grey area and so we have to allow people to live in that space. No one in this house is perfectly perfect all the time, or at all and that’s ok. The thing is, he and I both messed up and we talked about it. And while I still don’t think we agree, we moved on and we decided for what feels like the millionth time, to put one foot in front of the other and just. keep. walking.

I am reading Cheryl Strayed’s book “Wild” right now about her hiking the Pacific Crest Trail and it’s striking me that her walking that trail with its unexpected snow, boots that are too small and painful, less money than she needs and overall discomfort, are a whole lot like choosing to live a life of relatedness and love. A life in a partnership and especially a life with kids. That sounds really negative, sorry. Keep reading. My point is that she is also learning about this inner strength she has. These muscles she didn’t know could be there and seeing mountains and sky that are literally breathtaking. The peaks and valleys of this life of ours are breathtaking and awe-inspiring; every time one of you does something new, or I hear you laugh together, or your Papa kisses me, I realize that we are good. So good. We’re just on this crazy trail, moving forward and just doing our best to stay on that path without falling off the sheer, rocky, terrifying precipice. In fact, most of the time, we seem to have our footing.

So forgive us our trespasses babies. We’re doing our damndest to not screw you up. Or only screw you up to the point that you’re interesting and worldly. K?

Love you,

Mom

Boys, today we found out that we are not having another baby. That is a weird thing to type, but we thought that maybe we were for a bit there and all I could think of was, “but I already have these two amazing little creatures and they are enough.” Honestly, if I had been, we would have loved him or her as much as we love you two, BUT. Just but.

You are my heart and soul. You are my world. And you are a unit of 2 that I cannot imagine with one more or one less. I just thought you should know that you are so incredibly loved, especially today, because today I realized that I already have everything I need.

It’s so hard to make decisions for you when you’re both so tiny and really the only opinions you have are whether you want hotdogs or chicken nuggets (no judgements world, sometimes they’re organic) or that Ernie shouldn’t sing that song because Elmo will cry and then “they be not friends.” Yah. So really? How are we supposed to figure this out? Public? Private? Bilingual? Charter? The possibilities are endless and each require quite a bit of planning, paying attention to deadlines and lining up at 5 am to get a spot for Big One in the hopes that Little One will eventually be let in too (cause let’s face it, you’re really cute). The thing is is that we want the very best of absolutely everything in the world for you. I want a school that teaches you values, doesn’t care about the brand of your jeans, encourages creativity and world citizenship, where bullying is never tolerated and you don’t have to wear shoes (I think I just described Google. Just come to work with mama lovies.) But really, overall, I want a place where being different is normal, if that makes sense.

I grew up in a northern NJ suburb, that was slightly more “urb” than “sub” and went to school with children of every background you could think of and we really were a melting pot. Sure there were cliques, but really, everyone was represented and we all, more or less, got along. I want you to have that cause it’s what made the world a much more interesting place for me and I am sure launched my insatiable curiosity in world cultures and languages, plus made me seek out the very adventure that brought me to your Papa and you two.

Point being, I am torn about putting you in our very urban school setting lest my Heart and my Soul get less than perfect schooling, adoration and guidance (let alone physical safety). But it equally pains me to think of you two, my half-latino children of the world, in an all-white suburban school with no one else who looks like you (Little One) or is bilingual or who brings something different to the table.

This is all a preemptive apology really; sorry you had to go to elementary school in the underfunded urban district where your PreK class was in the trailers in the parking lot (no joke). OR you are super welcome for putting you through that progressive private school. OR, how lucky! You won a lottery spot in that awesome charter school! No matter what, this decision was not an easy one and came from a really genuine place.

Plus, how else would you have learned to defend yourself using only a paper clip, chewing gum and a broken crayon? You are welcome.

Dear Boys,

This actually came out of my mouth tonight: “You came out of my body first so you need to get out of the tub first.” I just thought you should know that a woman with an MA from NYU, a pretty awesome job at Google with an impressive travel record… has to say these things. Out loud. To people.

Here’s the running list. Because I wrote this and published it and THEN I said: “Did you just pee on your brother’s toothbrush?” So now, I just have to keep a list.

See how much I love you?

xo Mom

Confession: I have had a blog before. 2 of them actually; one in Guatemala when I went to Central America to “find myself” but instead found your Papa and came back with a rather pricey “souvenir” (ahem, Big One, I am looking at you). That blog actually had some really beautiful stuff written in it and is a great window into who your Mommy was… an idealist, a lover, a thinker and above all, fiercely adventurous. The second one came with you Big One. I wanted to stay home and be a super famous Mommy Blogger and get “discovered” and go to awesome conventions and speak about all my amazing insights on this twisted thing we call Motherhood while women sat around me nodding knowingly and laughing/crying at appropriate moments. Um, hello, welcome reality: a FT job, your PAPA (dear god, that man. For better or for worse people), our dog, our home (tell me, were we ever actually able to PURCHASE a home?!), your grandparents and well, the two of you. Soooooo.

This blog is for you boys. It’s a place where I am going to do my very best to be honest. To share who I am, who you are right now in this moment and as you grow. God you are both really freaking cute- you should see your naked butts, I could actually eat them. You are best friends, you share a room, and just this week you had your first knock-down drag out brawl. Over an empty plastic bag. (I did not say either of you were geniuses, just that you were cute.)

But for real, I want to make a record for you of where we came from; our journey, our life and our story. I mean, you’re the first generation to grow up on the internet, to have pictures of your births immortalized in the cloud (sorry about the straight up one of your boy-parts on FB Big One, bad call on my part. Blame the pain meds.), and so I want you to have something to refer to. Ya know, like some day when you head to therapy. Instead of having to dredge up blocked childhood memories like the rest of us, you’ll be all like, hey actually, my Mom totally documented this online, here ya go Dr. Shrink. Trust me, it will save all of you a lot of time and money. You’re welcome sweeties.

So here we go.

Rules of engagement: I will tell the truth. I will be silly. I will be sappy. I will use foul language (but you still may not, ahem). I will tell you the story of our lives. You might not always love what I write, but you will trust and respect it because I am writing this for the two people in the world I love the absolute most. You are my heart and my soul (but I won’t tell you who is who) and this my dears, is our story.

xo Mom