Before our life with little boys, Husband and I had Rosco, our dog.  You should know first and foremost that he is a cute and dear dog.  With personality.  A big personality.  Before I get into it, I want to paint the right picture for you.  Husband and I thought that a dog would be good ‘training ground’ for us before we had kids as many people I think consciously (or unconsciously) do.  We figured if we could manage surviving through raising a pet together, then sure, we could raise kids together.  Right?

We were told on Petfinder.com that the dog of our dreams (we were looking for a French bulldog, Boston Terrier, boxer kind of fugly love) was to be found at the Modesto SPCA (nothing good comes out of Modesto.  Remember Scott Peterson?).  We drove the 2.5 hours to get to our adorable little puppy.  We were immediately smitten.  I took him to local training classes and we were adamant about socializing him well with other dogs (and the obsessive dog owners of San Francisco where we lived).

We discovered very quickly that Rosco (which btw, GBF had notoriously named) had a penchant for the taste of Boston terriers.  In fact, he loved to eat them.  And not necessarily in a cute way.  Literally.  It didn’t take long to realize that our dog was not a cute boxer-bulldog mix that was promised on the Petfinder site. Actually, our dog was turning more into a pit bull mutt.  Albeit a darn cute one.

Let me cut to the chase here and especially before you make any assumptions about pit bulls.  Rosco is a beautiful dog.  He’s LOVELY with people.  Our kids roll all over him and he’s NEVER snapped at our boys or any guests (child or adult).  Once we realized his true breed, we did extensive research because we knew these kinds of dogs require a great level of responsibility.  Did you know that the early half of this century in America, pit bulls were America’s poster dogs?  Theodore Roosevelt, Helen Keller, “Our Gang”/”Little Rascals” (remember Spanky, Alfalfa, Darla, Buckwheat?), the RCA record company and Buster Brown shoes all loved Pit Bull Terriers.  The breed was well known for their obedience, intelligence and loyalty.

The downside to the breed’s history is the association to fighting.  It’s sad.  Really sad.  And clearly it’s in Rosco’s genes.  We’ve spent over $4000 in trying to train our dog.  He’s learned a lot, but when it comes down to it, he just can’t be trusted with other dogs.  We are RESPONSIBLE pet owners.  Within the home, he is obedient and minds well (just not when the doorbell rings).  We care for our dog and want (very much) for him to be an excellent contribution to our family.

AND We are perfectly clear that we CANNOT risk our dog being around other dogs.  You think it’s going to be all nice and this friend’s dog will be different (and we REALLY want it to), but something happens…a look or a smell from another dog AND HE SNAPS.  Sometimes I can see it a millisecond before the attack occurs, but nonetheless it happens.  Our dog attacks other dogs.  We’ve had vet bills.  I’ve literally had a lady attack me because our dog attacked her dog at the dog park (she was a crazy bitch though and this was when we were just learning about Rosco’s ‘disorder’).

Dog attacks are ugly, violent, scary and distressing.  It FREAKS ME OUT.  Thus, we don’t ever let our dog out around other dogs (I’ve said this, right?).  We don’t go to dog beach.  I don’t walk my dog.  It’s WAY TOO MUCH to be with two little kids and a dog with special needs that requires so much attention.  Ugh.  It’s so sad to me.  However, he does have a lovely fenced-in big back yard and two little boys who love the heck out of him.

BigBoy can’t sleep without him in his room.  Rosco happily and diligently goes to bed with him every nap and every night (sometimes he waits outside of BigBoy’s room when we read books).  Rosco SO VERY MUCH wants to belong and he LOVES being a part of our family.  He’s protective (in a good way) and loves greeting people (even if it is a bit enthusiastically).  He loves to be included.  BigBoy will be devastated if I go through with what I’m proposing.

So here’s the proverbial straw… We have awesome neighbors.  Patty & Bruce are empty-nesters, both love to cook and are avid wine enthusiasts.  So we are happy to accept any and all of their invitations to socialize.  They recently got the most delightful, please-let-me-roll-over-so-you-can-pet-my-big-tummy golden lab puppy.  Drake is as big of a puppy as he is adorable.  Husband and the boys were over at our Patty & Bruce’s watching America lose their World Cup game and the boys came back to get a few toys to take over.  I heard BigBoy say, “Drake, go home boy.”  I yelled to BigBoy, “SHUT THE DOOR!” as I saw Rosco go to greet the boys.  In an instant, Rosco was out the door and on sweet Drake’s neck.  (I had just told Patty the prior weekend how concerned I would be if that ever happened to sweet Drake.  Self-fulfilling prophecy?  I don’t even want to think about that stark possibility.)

I was able to push the boys aside and reach into the melee and grab Rosco off of Drake by the collar and drag his violently rabid ass into the house.  Drake was ok.  He didn’t have a scratch, but BigBoy and I were badly shaken.  I apologized profusely to Patty, but I still can’t shake it.

I’ve had it.  We’ve been here before.  I just feel that the right course of action is to find the proper owner(s) for Rosco or put him down.  This kind of attack could happen again.  The kids could get too close to the dogs if another attack occurs (we’ve told them to run away and find help if it ever happens).  I think we’ve endured eight years of having a special needs dog and I’ve had the last straw.

I’m heartbroken about this decision.  BigBoy is going to be HEARTBROKEN about this decision.  We can’t cut it as this dog’s owners.  Ugh.  He needs love, discipline and exercise that we just can’t fully give.  How do we go about finding the right owners for Rosco? How do we go about telling BigBoy, especially so he doesn’t feel like this was his fault?  Are we doing the right thing?  I was thinking I should handle the “transition” when the boys are away on vacation.  Any words of wisdom, comfort and tips for dealing are so very much appreciated.  I need a drink.  My heart and nerves are frazzled. Cheers friends and thanks for helping us out.

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please ignore my pizza face

I cracked up this morning when BigBoy says to me, “can we go somewhere right now?”  They were running all around so I thought that was probably a good idea.  They need to run out their energy; it helps my sanity.  BigBoy suggested one of our favorite parks.  I packed up a few snacks and got into the van.  As soon as we were backing out our driveway, BigBoy says to me, “Mom, I need a haircut.”  “Really,” I replied.  “Ok with me.  Let me place a call.”  Perfect.  The boys ran around for 30 minutes, then we went for a haircut and had pizza for lunch.  Yeah for BigBoy’s ideas!

Thanks Angry Julie for (almost) Wordless Wednesdays!

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Margaritas on Mother's Day = Awesome

Thank you Angry Julie for Wordless Wednesdays!

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Now that I’m in the MOB (mom of boys), I’m curious about how boys get to be boys.  One of the things I love most about being a parent is that I am seeing how these little kids in my life (my boys and friends’ kids) are developing into little people.  It’s neat to see their different personalities take shape and see who they are becoming.  That’s one of the great things about HHH, over time I’ve had the opportunity to see our community of friends – moms and their little lovelies – change and grow and see my little dudes in the mix too.

It turns out that BigBoy is sweet, a tad emotionally sensitive, a touch reserved in groups, but once he warms up he’s a delight and can talk your ear off about all sorts of things, but mostly racecars, dinosaurs or garbage trucks for now.  He’s a thinker and he likes his alone time with books, video games or chasing the waves when we’re at the beach.  I think that apple didn’t fall far from this tree.  BabyD is quite a different kid.  He came out a snuggler and a big personality.  He’s incredibly physical and a tad reckless.  For example, I was getting ready in the morning, putting on makeup and fixing my hair, while the boys were running around in my bedroom.  I turned around to watch BabyD running full speed straight into the mattress.  He’s not jumping up to get on it (he’s also all of two feet tall and I believe that our mattresses are taller than he is).  No, he’s just running straight for the it, runs into it, falls flat on his back, blinks, and then laughs maniacally.  All of a sudden an image of my younger brother comes to mind.

Kirk and I are 2 ½ years a part.  Other than the strong desire to torment each other and that we were both born to our parents, we didn’t really have much in common growing up.  I was moody, emotional and complex and he was, well, all B-O-Y.  My brother was nothing like the sweet or cute boys I was fawning over in elementary school or junior high.  He was a whole different breed.  He liked to hit things, get dirty, squish stuff, run, climb and jump. (Now I know that the boys I had crushes on probably liked that stuff too, but I guess I had doodled too many stars, hearts and butterflies around their names to see that side of them.)  I get it – boys like to do that kind of stuff, but in varying degrees.

BigBoy likes to run and climbs like the rest of them, but he has more reasoning and timidity that holds him back from going full tilt.  When he gets hurt, it’s a whole big scene let me tell you.  BabyD simply is not like that.  He goes for it even especially when he’s playing with his brother and friends.  BabyD does his best to keep up with them.  When he gets hurt he cries a little, runs over for a quick kiss from mommy and he’s immediately back in the game.  I’ve drawn the line recently at kissing his little toes anymore when they get hurt (they were so cute, but now they’re getting really dirty!).  I also had to establish another line when he said “kiss it” because his penis was hurting from a bad rash.  Just for the record I said, “Nope. Inappropriate,” but I’m still cracking up from that one.

I didn’t really start to like my brother until we were both older and I could understand him more.  I think I wrote him off too early since he was a “big dumb football player” and well, I was either to cool for him or too bothered by him.  Either way, I feel like karma is knocking on my door and I have a second chance at understanding him – especially now that I see my youngest son flinging himself into things for kicks and giggles.  Does this mean that I’m going to have to like football?  Oh this will be interesting.  Cheers friends.

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As I go to his room to do our nighttime routine, I see that his books are still a messy pile on the floor and I had already asked him three times during the course of the day to clean it up.  “Grrrr….”  I told him that he was in trouble with me, but we cleaned it up together and I made him pinky-swear that he would clean them up the next time that I asked him to.  (When he gets sent to his room for being naughty sometimes he throws a temper tantrum and expresses his anger by knocking down books from a shelf, so it’s bound to happen again.  And we’re working on appropriate ways to express anger…I’m open to parenting tips here!)  He had never heard of a pinky-swear before and I told him in the olden days if the person that entered into the pinky swear broke their promise that their pinky would get cut off. (It’s true!  The internet says so.)  Husband swears that I’m going to permanently damage our kids with dark tales, but I think a healthy dose helps right the moral compass.

Between reading books, BigBoy put his hand on my leg and looked very seriously at me and said, “Mom if I break my promise are you going to cut off my pinky?  Are you a witch?”  I paused (for dramatic effect) and said very slowly, “I will not cut off your pinky, but I will be very upset if you break your promise.  As to if I’m a witch or not, I think you’ll need to get your answer from Daddy on that one.”  And then I gave a wicked quiet laugh which made him raise his eyebrows and I kissed him good night and sang his lullaby.  I laughed about that for the rest of the night.

Sure enough this morning, BigBoy says to Husband, “Mom’s not really a witch, is she Daddy?  She was only kidding me, right?”  I only cackled giggled and walked out of the kitchen.  They’ll learn the truth sooner or later and I don’t mind keeping the boys guessing.

Cue The Eagles “Witchy Woman” and pour me a glass of deep red wine.  Cheers friends!

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Baby was easy to figure out.  He’s been calling Lola his “girlfriend” for months now.  That kid also has loved the boobies since the day he was born.  But wait, that’s not a determining factor.  GBF loves the titties too.  So scratch that idea.  Anyway, we were on our way to the grocery store and at the street corner were a few pretty, college-aged girls.  Let me remind you that we live in the San Diego area.  Pretty young things abound here.  We were at a stop light and I happened to look over my shoulder at him and saw what he was looking at out the window.  I chuckled and he looks at me, points out the window and say “Girlfriends!”  Yeah, he’s 2 people.  I think we can check the straight box now.  check.

As for BigBoy, the tell was after a recent “adult” party we went to for a dear friend.  There were a few of us there with little ones under five and we were encouraging the kids to go play together (so we could socialize without the clingons).  There were only three of them: our BigBoy, Preppy Sweater Boy and Pink Cowgirl.  The kids did a great job playing for about an hour until a wine glass was broken and that pretty much killed my low-grade buzz.  It was time to put the kiddos to bed and get us outta there.  On the way to the van (yes, I drive a van) BigBoy said, “Mom, you’ve got to call Pink Cowgirl’s mom!”  “Why’s that?” I replied.  “Because I want her to come to our Happy Hour parties.  She’s BEAUTIFUL!”  Really? Because I found her kinda freaky. Husband and I just smiled and whispered the whole way home.  That was the first time he’s ever exclaimed his attraction to something other than Speed Racer.  And it was a girl!  Pink Cowgirl. Giddy up, cowboy.

I’d say over the years that I’ve had pretty accurate gaydar.  I’d give me a B+ for sure.  So if my boys surprise me 20 years from now, I wonder what I’d miss.  Cheers, friends!

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Sure we have the classics, like Where The Wild Things Are, Dr. Seuss (Happy Birthday!) books, and lots of Richard Scary, but they don’t always enrapt BigBoy the way I would hope.  Some of my recent favorites are the SkippyJon Jones and the Jamie Lee Curtis’ books (Is There Really a Human Race? is my favorite).  I LOVE books that rhyme or have a particular cadence; it makes reading fun and challenging for me.  Remember, I have boys so you won’t find Amelia Bedilia in this list.  Although I do read girly books to BigBoy too, but admittedly he doesn’t like them very much.  Here are some of BigBoy’s favorites right now (he’s five years old, btw).  Please comment!  I’d love to hear your favorites too.

How Do Dinosaurs Say Good Night? By Jane Yolen & Mark Teague

This is often a baby shower gift along with some dinosaur baby clothes.  We love dinosaurs and dragons in this house.  I think you’ll see that reflected in our reading list.  This is the first kid’s book that I fell in love with.  In fact, I’ve had to take a respite from reading it from time to time because I don’t want BigBoy to hate it.  When Husband and I read this book, we get loud and dramatic and express the dinos feelings similar to BigBoy in hopes that he sees himself.  And really it’s all about being a good dino and going to bed.  Yolen & Teague have a whole series of these books about good dino behavior reinforcement for going to school, playing well with friends, cleaning their rooms and eating their food.  Santa brought BigBoy How Do Dinosaurs Say I Love You which has been nice to read and hopefully it’s rubbing off a little bit.

The Best Pet of All by David LaRochelle and illustrated by Hanako Wakiyama

First of all, I love a mom that can say no.  This is a story about a boy who persuades his mom to get a dog.  They do get a dog, but it’s to get rid of a dragon that is like a sloppy, slacker, college friend who overstays his welcome.  I love the depiction of 1960s Southern California in the illustrations of this book.  If you love dragons and fiestaware, you’ll like this.

I Stink! By Kate & Jim McMullan

BigBoy and Baby are in love with garbage trucks.  It’s a huge event when the garbage trucks come to our house on Thursdays.  We have a ton of garbage truck toys and my Favorites list on YouTube is full of garbage truck videos.  I don’t get it, but the boys are crazy for it!  This book is full of onomatopoetic words and attitude.  I love reading it in my garbage truck voice, whatever that may be, but it makes BigBoy laugh, so I’m all for it.  There’s also another book by the same authors called I’m Dirty!, which if you have dirty boys then they both may be for you.

All Aboard the Dinotrain by Deb Lund

It’s just like peanut butter and chocolate.  I’m pretty sure that this book is not related to the PBS kid’s show Dinosaur Train, but you get the concept…two things that go great together!  We’re a fan of both the show and this book.  I love how this book rhymes and I’m challenged to read it fast when the train really gets going down the tracks.  Good times, good times.

Where Did All the Dragons Go? by Fay Robinson and illustrated by Victor Lee

I just got this book from the library, but I’m going to buy it (used) because I find it so magical.  The illustrations are beautiful and amazing, depicting many different species of dragons.  I’ve always been captivated by stories of dragons, maybe it was an early crush on Pete and his dragon, I don’t know.  This story also rhymes and creates such an awesome tale of the disappearance of dragons.  I found this book absolutely enchanting.

Happy reading everyone!  Enjoy the time reading with your kids while you can.  For me, this is just about the best part of the job.  Cheers!

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But what has cracked me up the most is hearing my five year old boy proclaim, “I LOVE him! I love Speed Racer!” while hugging his car. Wow. It’s neat to see him so passionate about something, but wow is really all I can say.

I tell you what, while I love going down memory lane and rewatching the vintage Speed Racer cartoons (my brother and I used to love that they would say, “Catch Speed in Part 2 of the Desert Race…”), the 2008 version by the Wachowski Brothers (of The Matrix trilogy) is totally awesome (yes, I said ‘totally awesome’ and probably said it like 100 times in the movie, because IT IS so totally awesome!). I love a good action flick, especially with great car races and international appeal. I’ve seen every James Bond movie with Sean Connery through Daniel Craig. One of my all time favorite movies is Heat and rounding out my top ten would probably include The Italian Job. So to be able to watch an action movie that’s fun, colorful, has a good moral story, kick ass special effects and graphics, and funny lines with my son is PRICELESS.

The Wachowski Brothers (guess you can’t really say that now, but the ‘Wachowski Siblings’ doesn’t have quite the same ring to it) bring the same attention to detail that they do to all their movies. But this time the color palette isn’t black and grey. It looks like they had a great time bringing a late 1960’s Japan anime to the big screen. Everything from the sets (oh the wallpaper in the Racer house and the bakelite display in the kitchen), to the costumes, to the cars and the CG raceways were bright, colorful and whimsical. To me this movie is done in the way a cartoon to big screen movie should be (think 1990’s Dick Tracy).

The other thing that I particularly loved is that there is very little violence for both what you would think the Wachowski’s would do and what’s possible with a race car-action movie. When cars crash, the driver is ejected into an auto-foam bubble wrapped ball and bounced out of harms way (genius!). The few scenes where there are punches or fights there is very little blood. It’s enough to get the idea, but not too over the top. It’s clear that they had kids and families in mind while making this movie (thank you!). There are even ninjas (!) and the fighting scenes are well crafted, artistic, and sometimes even funny.

I love Speed’s relationship to his friends and family, and themes like respect, love and doing what’s right play heavily in the movie. There are certainly campy moments (“Holy Cannoli, Speed!”) and we laugh along with the family humor. Another thing I love is that the Racer family is participating in a world-wide sport. It’s not the Big Scary World, but the Cool, Interesting World outside of North America. The villains in this movie are the big worldwide corporations and the gangsters and drivers employed by them.

The casting for the main characters is very good and the actors bring the appropriate amount of heart, intensity and fun. Speed is played by Emile Hirsch (Lords of Dogtown, Into the Wild, Milk) who has the most excellent hair, innocence and coolness to carry the role. Susan Sarandon (Enchanted, Stepmom, Thelma & Louise) and John Goodman (Monsters Inc., The Big Lebowski, The Flintstones) play his parents in such a way that are both supportive and touching. Christina Ricci (Penelope, The Opposite of Sex, Sleepy Hollow) plays Speed’s best friend and wannabe girlfriend. She absolutely has the look and attitude for Trixie. And really, does the woman ever age? Matthew Fox (“Lost,” “Party of Five”) is excellent as Racer X, bringing the right combination of dark, mysterious and sexy.

However, they missed the boat with the secondary characters. Had they done better casting for those roles, this movie would have received much more publicity and favor. Some ideas for recasting include: David Arquette (Scream, but most well known as Courtney Cox’s husband) as the Grey Ghost, his friend Jason Lee (“My Name is Earl,” Alvin & The Chipmunks, and a ton of Kevin Smith films) as Snake Oiler and if any of the bad girl racers could have been Angelina Jolie, any of the Spice Girls or 2000′s Charlie’s Angels the movie could have uber kicked ass.

So I suppose I LOVE Speed too! Tell me, do you know of any other cool boy movies that you can watch together at least once, if not more, that has as much action and intrigue, heart and brains? I think I’m gonna shake myself up another martini and watch it again with BigBoy tonight. Cheers friends!  I’d love to hear your recommendations…

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So yeah, in response to my own blog post, I did it.  And it worked.  I asked friends (not family cuz god only knows what they would say if they found out) not to bring gifts to the boys’ birthday parties.  (They boys’ birthdays are a month a part and I’m between parties right now…one great success, hoping for the next.)  Here’s an editorial mix of what I included in the invitations, but basically the same intent:

No gifts, please. Really, it’s okay.  It’s simply great having a fun day with you.  However, I know many of you can’t stand the thought of not bringing a gift.  If you are compelled to bring something then a gift card, book or clothes is most appreciated.  Please excuse my rude presumption and know BigBoy/Baby is going to have a great birthday because you’re celebrating with us.  Thank you!

I know, it’s tacky!  Emily Post isn’t down with it and neither is Miss Manners.  I got it.  I’m not like either of those women; so put me down to bunk with Amy Sedaris anytime.  If you know me, it’s really okay not to bring a gift.  Trust me, my boys are not in need of anything.  We have a great life – a life full of enough.  And I understand that people feel weird not bringing a gift and yes, I suggested things, which is so incredibly in bad taste, but I’m okay with it.  Say what you will.  We did receive a few things (out of 17 kids) we received two toys, one gifts of clothes, four books (yeah!), and one gift card.  Fantastic.  Of course, us parents and both set of grandparents gave gifts, so my children weren’t missing out on a thing.  My fear of the boys being permanently damaged from not having gifts on their birthday was completely unfounded.

One of the things about motherhood, especially being a SAHM, is that I hate accumulating crap.  Because as a Mom, you end up picking it up all the time.  (I know you’re reading between the lines and yes, there have been birthday parties where we received gifts that were junky, eventually not played with and things that I would never give nor want for my children. I said it.  So there.)  And I can go on and on about not wanting to raise children in such a materialistic, expectant society.  Furthermore, after the craziness of the holidays, haven’t we all spent enough money?

I just wanted to share in the event some of you wanting to do the same thing, but didn’t have the guts.  I did it.  It turned out fine. As Lola reminded me as I was hand-wringing over writing the note for the invitations, “aren’t all these people your friends anyway and the rest of them, do you really care?”  She was right.

Yeah, here I am just putting it all out there again for the world to see (the few of you who bother to read about my world…thank you).  Feeling weird, but moving forward anyway.  I need a drink.  Cheers!

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For those friends and family that have known me for a long time you know that children were never on my horizon.  It was just simply that I wasn’t interested.  Babies, never mind kids, never really took to me.  The feelings that I had for children were that they were loud and messy (that really hasn’t changed).  As a teen, I didn’t love babysitting, I did it for the money.  I just wasn’t born with that “I-love-babies! gene” like some women are.

But then I met Husband.  Not having kids was a deal breaker for him.  Doing the deed was a part of the deal.  I knew that marrying him meant travelling the uncharted, unimagined road of parenting and motherhood.  After an ass grab, a brief international romance, and throwing my doubts to the wind, I knew that I wanted to grow old with this man.  He was solid, clear-hearted, and just a little bit crazy to want to marry me.  So I said yes knowing full well what I was signing up for.

After being married a few years, we got pregnant and had BigBoy.  Motherhood terrified me.  I didn’t have post partum depression, I had pre-partum depression.  I knew my life would be forever changed and I mourned the loss of me and life-as-I-knew-it.  The birth didn’t go as planned and we had some early minor complications in the first few months of BigBoy’s life.  I didn’t swell with love when he was born.  I never really enjoyed breast feeding and loathed pumping.  We weren’t bonding the way Mother and child were (what I thought) supposed to.  I did however eventually find joy, friendships, and how to have fun mothering when I joined a playgroup for first-time moms through Golden Gate Mothers Group.  I learned to relax and laugh again.  I loved those ladies even though many of us were so very different.  We had this common bond of learning to be mothers together and through sharing and laughing in our struggles, I found me again and being okay with my way of being a mom.

BigBoy was never a cuddler and had always preferred his Daddy over me (don’t worry, I understand why).  And life with BigBoy was fun, and good, but I had some big disappointments with being a Mom.  I still felt like there was a bond missing and I didn’t think my son liked me all that much.  It didn’t feel like we were well-connected.  It wasn’t until Baby was born (BigBoy was 3) that I really found babylove.  Baby taught me the over abundance of love and to love BigBoy and our relationship just the way it is.  Nothing really was broken, I just learned how to love in a bigger and new way.  That was a great lesson to learn.

But things changed even more (and for the better) this last year.  Being let go from work was the best gift I had ever received.  I have fallen completely in love with BigBoy.  I have been blessed with the opportunity to really get to see him, know him and learn the kind of kid that he is and is becoming.

He now gives me “hurt hugs.”  It’s his way of squeezing me so tight that it’s supposed to hurt.  He regularly says that he loves me 1 million, hundred thousand and sixty eight.

I love to look in his face.  I can so clearly see the combination of me and Husband.  There’s no doubt that this child was born out of love.

I love to wrestle with him, tickle him, make him laugh, snuggle during movies, read to him at night and tuck him into bed.  I love that he talks to himself with intricate stories about planes, garbage trucks, race cars and trains.  (Sometimes though I think this must be what it’s like having a girl with the incessant talking!)

He’s down right funny, has an incredible passion for learning, and has a sweet heart (just like his Daddy).  He’s a nice boy, has manners and a few close friends.  Even with all the fear and doubts I have had, I know now that overall I’m doing a good job as a mother.  He’s a great kid and I know he’s going to turn out alright.

Happy 5^th Birthday BigBoy.  I’m so very proud of you.  You are an awesome little boy and I’m so glad to be your Mommy.

Cheers to you!

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