Tag Archives: single parenthood

Is This The Little Boy I Carried?

A Cake fit for a Being

A Cake fit for a Being

Well, this is what happens when you let him decide what goes on the cake. *sigh

In a few short hours I will be mother to a teenager. Y.I.K.E.S. We held his birthday party yesterday, saturday because Monday would have been too hectic.  There will never be another moment like this, literally, he’s 13, and I’m the converse: 31… and it’s 2013.  It’s just a cool little coincidence, and if I played the numbers I’d play 13,31,13 in that order. I still can’t believe my kid is a teen, and I feel like he’ll probably go to sleep, and out of spite grow an inch tonight so that he can be taller than me in the morning just to prove a point. The past year was pretty tough, this time last year I was in the midst of trying to abate a nervous breakdown and losing the battle.  I’ll tell you guys more about that later, but now I’d like to take a few moments to extoll the awesomeness that is David.

David rides around the neighborhood in snow boots and shorts, on a vintage BMX Mongoose bike with a bow and arrow strapped to his back wielding a 2 ft long Nerf sword. I love that about him because he really is a kid who does what he wants and doesn’t let pretense keep him from enjoying himself.  He still gets excited about stuff, he’s not “over it” as so many teens and preteens are these days. There’s an awesome sense of wonderment that I wish I could preserve in him forever although I know that, along with his estimation of my coolness, that too will begin to fade in the years to come. I just pray that he knows that no matter what, I love him with a vulnerability that’s hard for me to comprehend. That’s what parenting really is, it’s vulnerability, it means loving another person so much that self becomes secondary.  I’ve learned a lot about the resiliency of this kid, he’s surprised me with his maturity and tenacity even as I sit here watching him repeatedly stick his finger into a container of slime making it expel pitch perfect fart noises (the sloppy kind).  I took for granted the roundness of his face, and almost missed the sharpness of his mind. A fact I should have noticed years ago when at an early age, drawing on his superior sense of reasoning and observation: Dave posed the question:  “Mom, do I have utters?”

I could really go on and on about the joy my boy brings me. He makes me happy though not in a dependent way that can be sappy and is sometimes an unfortunate consequence of single parenthood. Yeah, he can get on my nerves and frustrate me to the point where I need to take a time out, but thankfully, those times are rare.  I delight in him and enjoy being his mom and wouldn’t want him to be any other way.

Happy Birthday Dave!

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

It’s a Seance, Meet My Son

So I met a guy.  I try to prolong the appearance of being single and carefree for as long as my schedule will allow, which is usually every other weekend and anytime before 4:15pm (when the school bus comes).  So I met this guy and the only way we could work our schedules around hanging out the 2nd day after I met him was for him to come over that evening around 9pm.  I’m not June Cleaver and this is certainly not the Cosby Show, so unless Nyquill comes in to the picture, Dave is NOWHERE NEAR going to bed at 9pm. Matter of fact at 9 o’clock he’s more than likely running around asking what’s for 2nd Dinner!  I don’t usually bring guys home too early to meet the kid but this time I was like “What the heck, might as well get this over with.”  So I’m running around the house doing some straightening up and getting myself together. I was trying to figure out how to be cute, considering that I can’t get all the way “dressed” because its 9pm and I’ve been in the house all day so being too done up would look like I was trying way too hard.  By now my son has gotten wind that we’re having company. Notice the “WE”.  In his mind, company comes for “US” not just me.  I notice he’s doing his own sprucing up, putting on lotion and such, straightening up his toys etc.  I’m just about ready to go down stairs to get the guy from the lobby, when I see Dave putting on my sneakers. “Um, where you going?” I say, he’s like “Downstairs, with you.” Tuh, “Oh no you NOT!”  Look, the walk from my apt to the lobby is roughly a block, about a 3 minute walk down the hallway from elevator to door.  I can control that walk, it’s the last few minutes for me to make a great impression, be cute, even coy and extremely believable as a carefree artist chic. Those precious minutes are the last time for me to GET.IT.IN.  And that is precisely what I did.  I walked super slow knowing that this could all go out the window as soon as we get back to my apt. As we walked down the hall we laughed, I told my best jokes, batted my eyelashes knowing that each step brought us closer to the unknown. Inside I was praying with all that was in me that David would be cool. The thing is, with him you just never know. So we finally made it back up to my apt. I’m standing at the door and take one last deep breath, twist the knob and open the door into the portal that used to be apt #205. PORTAL. YES. PORTAL. Maybe Gateway would be a better word. My entire apt is dark except for One candle on the island illuminating the solemn brown face of my son who’s perched cross legged on a bar stool in meditative silence.  WHY? Why me Lord? I’ve never moved so quick in my life, all in one stride I’d flicked on the kitchen lights, blown out the candle and yanked his legs out of Indian style.

Thankfully the guy took it all in stride even laughing about it a little bit. Luckily Dave was just normal-kid-weird for the rest of the night. So much for first impressions.


Tagged , , , ,

Intro Intro Intro Intro Ducing!

Me! I’m Raki a former teen mom. I just turned 30 last Nov 2011 and my son, David (Dave) turned 11 a month earlier in October. My son and I have a pretty cool relationship, we get each other and we’re both creative. I’m a fashion designer, he draws…..I draw better ha ha! Our lives are both at pivotal points, he’s starting middle school next year and I’m starting a mid-life crisis of sorts. Background info, I had Dave when I was 18 and a sophomore in college. My college life after that is much of a blur, but I graduated on time YEAH! Essentially for all of my adult life I’ve been a parent, now at 30 I’m really seeing the toll that “responsibility” has taken on me.  I’m getting back to myself and really trying to learn how to be more self-indulgent, be more confident in my identity, elevate my quality of living through HIGHER HEISTS  HEIGHTS and raise a well balanced young man. That sounds good doesn’t it? But I’m SCARED TO DEATH of what’s to come!!! My career is at a turning point and my kid is about to be surrounded by a teaming institution of hormonally imbalanced hellions! 30 and 11 is about our journey, a mother-son adventure that started over 11 years ago. This blog is also my perspective on being a parent, a single parent, shared through stories, drawings, anectdotes, confessions etcetera and whatever. And Away We GOOOO!

Tagged , , ,