My Boyfriend
“We’re having a boy,” he whispered to me upon fully processing that we were actually having a baby. I concurred without hesitation. My days of being a preschool teacher were affirmation enough that I needed a boy as my first child. I remember being in awe of how they gazed upon their moms at dismissal. The sadness that they were overcome with when “mommy” walked through the door in the mornings and the excitement that permeated their bodies as they talked about the basic functions of their moms daily were enough for me to plot on my first baby being a boy. So, there we were eight weeks into pregnancy speaking a baby boy into existence, not once entertaining the idea of a girl.
…and here I am approximately thirteen months in with the boy of my dreams. I had mentally pictured a chocolate baby with curls and all consuming energy that would change my life. I had long planned to be so engulfed in this little being that I would quickly lay my old life to rest and selflessly bask in my new life with him. I imagined a boy who would dote on me with the same admiration that my little pre-k students did their moms. Here I am. Mornings are better because of him. He awakens with a smile each morning and crawls across the bed to meet me. “Ga” is the sound that escapes his lips…a greeting I assume.
“Good morning my love! Did you sleep well?”
”Ah”
Despite how rushed and out of sorts I may have been feeling before his waking moment, I am able to press a pause button on things simply to cuddle him and remind him of the love I have for him. Beyond that moment though, I am NEVER allowed to leave his eye sight. Running off to the kitchen? The pit patter of his teeny feet can be heard scurrying behind me. Off to relieve my bladder? I’m not quite sure why I haven’t invested in a baby potty for him to mimic me as yet. Dare I do some work? …on my laptop? He must have my “matching“ iPad to pretend that he, too, is typing. My coffee and couch have long been my semblance of “home.” Morning wake-ups are aided with a cup of coffee while curled up on my couch. Mornings featuring my son also feature his small frame learning to climb into his recliner with a warmed bottle. (He’s graduated to sipping with one hand.)
Venturing outside with my heart has been no different. “Hi!” Most are awed when he waves back and smiles. His smile should be laced with a caution sign. I am always alerted when anyone tries to come in close because the jagged baby nails sink into my clothing and , luckily, they do not puncture and pierce my skin. While he runs off happily into daycare at the top of the day, that same run comes back to me at the end of the day upon me stepping foot into the door. The end of the day run is aided by a screech of joy. He happily screams as though its been years since he has laid eyes on me. That’s my reward for being his mom. To think that the mere thought of motherhood made me cringe weeks before I even found out I was pregnant is bewildering. My “sonshine,” as all of the clever boy moms before me have coined it, is truly that. I am his world and love having the responsibility of being his person; the one who he looks up
My son has become my boyfriend. When I move, he moves. Anything I was used to doing as a single kid-free woman is now a “we do.” I have fully accepted that and love it. In his eyes I can do no wrong. I intend to always be that for him; a model of how he should be as a person.
the days when I was single …like single single. There was no action happening on my phone. Men would give me attention when I went out but my pride would not allow me to entertain any of it. It was during these times that I would long for the day when the man who I petitioned God about, journaled about, saw in my dreams would sweep me off of my feet for once and for all. I could not wait for the moment when I would have found my match; the man who doted on me. This man that visited me in my dreams would wine and dine me. He’d love me without condition. He’d be tall, dark skinned, have a beautiful smile with a heart to match. He would also have his own money and would not be concerned about mine …because I’ve been there. This man that I had mentally depicted manifested himself in the form of a bright eyed, curly haired, gum filled smile infant. He’s a whole lot
