Making Mother’s Day

Monday, May 10, 2010

The phone calls, e-mails, tweets, texts, and cards that came in over the weekend were sweet. A few people wished me all the best on my first Mother’s Day. This is actually my second one. But the two dates—clearly only a year apart—seem like portions of two different lives lived by two different women.

Last year, my son was a week shy of three months old on Mother’s Day. And exactly a year ago, May 9, 2009, he looked like this:

Here he is on May 3, 2010 …

I remember that we went out for dim-sum at a local spot with my in-laws last year. We got to eat outside in the sun. The Youngster ate, too. I nursed him maybe twice during our meal. I remember I was still in breastfeeding cover-up mode, so I wore one of these. Heaven forbid Waiter Guy see one of my giant milk bags while serving us our dumplings. (I soon got over that, and the need for the hooter-hider contraption. Modesty was still there, but who saw what while I was feeding my kid no longer concerned me.) The rest of the day’s details kind of blurs.

It’s interesting to look at me then and now. I wouldn’t say I know more about being a mother just 12 months later. There’s something in that statement that sounds a tad too arrogant and destined to be proven wrong. But I can say, with certainty, that I know more about being a mother to this particular child. I know my little guy—what his wide smiles, special words and tiny gestures mean. I feel 100 percent confident when I say things like:

“It’s time for a nap, he’s tired.”

“He only likes it room temp.”

“That strawberry is going to hit the kitchen floor in 3, 2 …”

I can make him giggle until he literally topples over. I know exactly how to  drop my voice so my “no” will register with his curious, reaching hands. And I’ve become very comfortable straight-up ignoring “advice” from other mothers (newbies and vets), books or strangers on the street because I know these gems they are imparting simply do not apply to my baby.

Speed the tape up to Sunday, Mother’s Day 2010.

We went out to lunch with the in-laws. Wood-burning oven Italian food at a local spot. We ate indoors—waaay to windy and February-like out there. And The Youngster ate, too. He finger-fed himself whole-wheat pasta with a little sauce, some crisp focaccia bread from the shared plate in the middle of the table and had a few sips of soup from his mother’s bowl. A grand time had by all.

But it was something that happened earlier that morning that made my entire day. It was just us three in the living room hanging out after our delicious Dada-made French toast breakfast. My husband gave me some gifts along with cards. The Youngster likes opening gifts—moreover spilling things out of gift bags. He also enjoys opening the envelopes and “reading” the cards. This time around, though, he wasn’t happy with the cards. He pulled each out, opened them a few times before dashing them to the floor mumbling, complaining.We couldn’t figure out what was so clearly annoying about the cards.

Then it clicked.

For Easter, my son got a cute card from his Gammy and Grandpa that plays this song when opened. He loves it. That’s what was wrong. These new Mother’s Day cards, though considered charming and cute by me, were completely sub par. They had no song!

We pulled out another “singing” card that my folks sent me for by birthday in March … just to test our theory. He took the card, opened it and heard this. He grinned and started to sway from side to side. My husband and I laughed, tears gathering in our eyes. It was yet another sign of our son’s personality taking shape. It’s one more thing that makes him, him. And makes me so incredibly happy to be The Youngster’s Mama.

  • 1
    yvette says:

    very cute, He’s a smart little boy.

  • 2
    Divina says:

    Your boy is so sweet. This was my 2nd Mother’s Day too. Last year, my sister & sister in law graduated from college. So no celebration last year, I did not even get to spend any time with by husband since he went early to see his sister graduate. This year he made up for it big! Breakfast in bed, gifts, flowers etc.