Starbuck... how every father should learn and grow.

MEN: Watch Starbuck, a movie that depicts how a man SHOULD change himself in order to be a GOOD father.

SINGLE MOMMIES: watch Starbuck and cry because he becomes such a good father.

SINGLE MOMMIES WHO HAD A BABY WITH AN ASSHOLE: watch Starbuck and CURSE out that sonofab**** with whom you mistakenly created a life, but bless him at the same time because he AT LEAST gave you a beautiful child.

 

For my baby boy...

Here is a song that plucks at my motherly heartstrings every single time I listen to it - I have begun rocking Zach to it every night before putting him in his crib for his dodo...
All I wish for him is that he be a happy, healthy, loved and satisfied little man... whatever he chooses to do, as long as he does not voluntarily harm himself or others in the process.
I love you my Zach-a-Poo.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rgFQ6WmxdMs

Parental Advisory: Explicit Content

For those lighthearted individuals reading my blog, please excuse my morning rant and only read the following if you can take a few big swear words because I need to spew out my anger...

Here goes: I called my dear lawyer this morning to see if I could change my son's name - you see, I had the bright idea when Zach was born to follow a Russian tradition in honour of the fucking man I thought would be with us for the rest of our lives;  therefore, my prescious baby boy possesses not one, but TWO, of his father's fucking names: Zachary Semion Therrien Polstianoy.  You see, in Russia, children are named after their father no matter what, and so there is a special ending given to a child's name according to his or her gender;  thus, a little girl will be forever known as her father's daughter in the same way that a boy will be known as his father's son.  

Well, it has been a year that this charming man after whom I had decided to name my son has not given any sign of life to me OR to my son, nor has he helped us in ANY fucking way... and when I asked the lawyer if I could start the procedure to change my son's name, he responded that a YEAR was not fucking long enough for the court to grant me this monumental change.

A YEAR is not fucking LONG enough ???????

Are you KIDDING ME ????????

In a young boy's life, a whole year is FUCKING long, let me tell you... 

Apparently, some fathers only recognize their progeny after THREE years... they only fucking wake up THEN and claim their responsibility towards the child or children they so childishly, immaturely and retardedly deserted in the first place.

As mothers, WE do not have the same opportunity because we carry our dear babies inside of us, whereas a man can sow his seeds any which way and then decide to nurture the growth of those plants or not... 

I shall leave you with this song and video that makes my throat clench and tears spring into my eyes every single time I listen to it: Every man knows how to make a baby, it's not fucking Biochemistry, but it takes a REAL fucking man to become a FATHER.

Fuck.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oiKj0Z_Xnjc

Parenting 101

Now that our relationship has withstood the test of a month and a little bit... how does a mother integrate her new man into her son's life?

It seems so complicated and yet it should be so simple and straightforward... he has been absolutely wonderful with Zach thus far, giving him kisses on his little forehead before dodo, sharing our bedtime stories, trying to calm him with me when he has an impatient outburst, etc. 

My tiny man has even begun imitating the newer love of my life - stretching his little arms in the air when running around naked before bath, just like my boyfriend does on a regular basis (minus the running around naked part of course!), or doing a miniature version of a two-step that my lover has done a few times around us, and trying to produce the same grimaces with his tongue and lips.

My son has even begun calling his new friend by name;  for example, first thing in the morning when his piercing brown eyes are still crusted with sleep, when my boyfriend is in the bathroom and needs some privacy, or when just playing around me and wanting some more attention - much to a mother's chagrin, he has now begun saying this novel name more than he recites those precious words every mother loves to hear, 'mama' and 'mommy'.

My lover still seems a bit reticent, however, and I am not sure how to encourage him to do more because Zach is, afterall, not his actual son...

I am sure that time, much like with anything else in life, is the answer to all of my queries, so I am attempting to let the two of them define their relationship on their own terms without any intervention on my part.

 

A Gentle Giant

So, after a year and a lot of stumbling through the dark ages of the dating world which our generation has created in which men are more interested in us as sexual creatures rather than as emotional and intellectual beings, I have finally met a man who, so far, after our two weeks together, has begun to appreciate me more and more for who I am rather than for my smoking body... and, I appreciate him more and more every day as well... but of course I am very scared of getting hurt again...

The best part?  He is absolutley amazing with my son, even though he says he is keeping himself a little distant for the time being until him and I have figured out where our path is heading and if it is heading in the same direction or in divergent ways.

For instance, he has confessed to me and warned me about his not being a morning person, and yet when my son clambers into my bedroom at seven in the morning to see him, he responds warmly and gives him a kiss on the forehead when Zach offers himself up for a morning smooch.  Also, when he becomes cranky after dinner because he does not want to splish-splash in his evening bath, well, my new man has thus far never failed to try to divert him with a thrown beach ball, or with a few noises he makes with his mouth that my son has obviously and sweetly begun to imitate.

Yesterday, we went apple-picking with the rest of my little familial clan... and to see this gorgeous man walking hand in hand with my baby boy warmed my heart more than the morning sun shining on my face.  Zach, wearing his blue wind-breaker with the red cars, his little hood covering and protecting his tiny precious ears form the slight chill, stumbling along the apple strewn and fall foliage laden gravel path, holding the giant hand enclosing his miniature one, my mother walking behind them... what a sight for sore eyes such as mine.  And if that was not enough, he even read to my little man during the car ride back home, making the appropriate animal noises when needed, much to Zach's delight and amusement.  His manly form taking up more than half the space in the backseat not being occupied by Zach's car-seat, one arm resting on the top of Zach's perch, the other directing his hand and fingers to point out the animals filling my son's book, his eyes solely focused on the images before the two of them, his sexy lips appearing even sexier, if that is possible, while forming the words needed to convey the story.

If a woman can fall in love with a man because of his personal charm and attributes, how much more difficult is it to NOT become spellbound when the same man treats your son in such a way that melts your heart?

 

An Actual Community of Mothers

Today, while playing at the park with my baby boy, who is growing much too fast for my liking, I watched my male 'friend' standing nonchalantly near a tree, smoking, a female friend with her son, and a new-ish acquiantance whom I had met at the same park just two weeks ago... and I thought to myself, here are a bunch of mothers, single or not, gathered together on a beautiful sunny September day, enjoying each others' company and that of our children.  I noticed and greeted yet another mother I had met about three weeks ago, and I was holding Ines, a gorgeous little brown-haired angel belonging to one of my new friends... feeling like I was a part of something much greater than I ever could have imagined.  One of the mothers was pushing my handsome son, his hair resplendid in the afternoon sunshine, the breeze tickling his little cheeks, his smile showing off his gorgeous pearly whites, and I had set Ines down while I began pushing my friend's son ever so higher, to his instant gleeful replies.  The sun's rays on my face, the cool air caressing my bare neck and arms... all of us as mothers are connected by the love we feel and have for our children.  

Fifteen Months

My baby boy is FIFTEEN months today... and YES I do count the months, because not so long ago, every month marked another milestone in our growing relationship and every 25th day meant that we had both survived!  Every time the calendar changed its day to the 25th, I would sing him his Happy Birthday song and rejoice in the triumph that I had been able to take care of him and myself and I was growing stronger and more confident with every passing day. 

Now, today, I look back and marvel at how far we have both come, and I cherish every single second, minute, hour, day, week and month spent because they are now a part of our beautiful history.

Happy Birthday my gorgeous little man.