Not a Baby...

My little boy is growing up. He is definitely not a baby anymore. Just in the past couple of months, he's taken on more of a "little boy" appearance, dropping some of his baby fat (his cheeks are still magnificent, just slightly less in volume than they once were), stretching, maturing. He does everything at a run now. He seems to pick up a new word or phrase every day. And he definitely has a mind of his own. He knows what he wants, when and how. And he isn't shy about letting me know. There has been a great deal of "No, Mama!" or "No, Mommy!" recently (he's made the transition from Mama to Mommy in the past week or so).

I have a niece who will start second grade in a couple of weeks. I know how quickly B will be there. It happens in a blink. So, I'm trying to take in as much of this time as I can. I'm trying to be fully present in every moment I spend with him. I'm trying to remember all the hilarious and adorable things he says, so I can pull the memories out later on, when I need them. I always want to remember the way he says, "Mommy choo choo!" when I get on the train in the morning, or when he says "Ah lahluu," (I love you) on the phone. I want to remember the times when I'm tickling him and stop and he says, "Mo! Mo!" (More, more). I even want to remember when he says, "No, Mommy, do!" (Go), and gestures away from himself.

Even though we haven't had the easiest transition to toddlerhood (I guess we were spoiled by having such an easy going baby), I know I'll want to do this again at some point. Coming home at the end of the day is all the more satisfying when I get to come home to his smiling face, and when I get to hear his often not quite English yet stories about his day.

"Let's Plow..."

I don't think I'd given John Hughes a whole lot of thought any time recently. I mean, sure, I still stop flipping if I come across any of his mid-80's masterpieces on cable on a Saturday, and sure I still quote him on a somewhat regular basis. But I hadn't really taken any time to consider what his work meant to me. That is, until I got the email from my best friend yesterday afternoon that he'd passed away.

Even though he'd left Hollywood years ago and hadn't released anything new in many years, it still genuinely saddened me to hear of his passing. What he contributed to the lives of teenagers, mainly teenagers of my generation, but I firmly believe teenagers to come as well, cannot really be measured. He made us feel understood. He created characters we could relate to and characters we could fantasize about.

It's hard to describe the experience of being a 12 or 13 year old girl and wathing Pretty in Pink, Sixteen Candles or Some Kind of Wonderful. It's hard to describe the feeling of hope that would overcome me in the moments of those movies when the dreamy boy finally realizes he loves the girl. When I was a freshman in high school with an impossible crush on a wholly unattainable senior, I had the solace of Jake Ryan to get me through. See? It COULD happen. He COULD love me. You never know.

Beyond that, movies like The Breakfast Club highlighted the inanity of high school cliques and their inherently shallow nature. As someone who was always acutely aware of this, that made me feel like, "Someone GETS it!"

Countless happy nights from my youth had John Hughes movies at their centers. The night my sister put the Andee/Blaine kiss in the headlights of the BMW on slo-mo and said, "That. Is how you kiss. Memorize it." And I did. The countless nights my best friend and I would watch her worn out copy of Breakfast Club and argue over whether or not John Bender was attractive (she thought yes, I wasn't convinced).

This is really just the tip of the iceberg. I could go on all day. I could list hundreds of quotes. Suffice to say, there are so many of us whose lives were made more enjoyable by this man's work, and we'll miss him, and continue to treasure what he gave us.

Perspective

I think that, at least to some extent, it’s human nature to be a little self-centered. I mean, we’re each the center of our own universe, generally-speaking, right? So, whatever trials and tribulations we’re going through are the ones that really register with us. And there’s that old adage that, “Just because you lost a toe doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt if I stub mine.” And that’s true. Just because someone else’s hurt is “worse” doesn’t mean that ours doesn’t exist or isn’t valid, does it? Of course not.
That said, a nice dose of perspective is generally a good thing. It’s good to be reminded of our blessings, particularly the ones we might take for granted, or that we don’t show the appreciation we should.

For instance, I was reading the on line journal some friends of mine are keeping for their daughter, who was an ultra-premie and who is back in the hospital for some surgeries. I came across a guest book entry written by a friend of theirs who is also the mother of an ultra-premie. She mentioned how she will pray that their daughter is able to begin eating, and begin to enjoy eating. And she mentioned how so many other parents take that for granted, and that she hopes all the parents who read the journal take a moment to thank God for their healthy children. This really hit home with me today, since I’ve spent this week kind of stressing over my suddenly quite fresh and head strong 21 month old. It’s not that I take his health for granted, per se. I do think I’ve been frightened enough by his hospital visits to feel truly appreciative of every healthy day he has. But it did get me thinking that, in the grand scheme of things, a little freshness isn’t really something to get worked up over. I mean…sure, it kind of blows when he wants nothing to do with me. And yea, each of his shouts of, “NO, MAMA!” generally accompanied by a “go away” hand gesture, breaks my heart a little bit. But the fact is, he’s a healthy, smart little boy who is developing well enough to GET that he wants nothing to do with Mommy right now, and that Mommy is the disciplinarian and therefore, the Ruiner of Fun. And really…there are worse things than that.

As I’m writing this entry, my sister has just called to tell me she just spotted a new molar in B’s mouth, too. So, in terms of the boy’s being a tad cantankerous, this goes a long way toward explanation. See? There’s always a reason.

It really is so important to keep a sense of perspective. Loss of perspective is also why I’ve spent my entire week playing referee to a group of adults (here at work). Let’s just all take a moment to appreciate our blessings, if we haven’t yet today.