Thursday, September 16, 2010

The beauty of my son, the rock star

The beauty of my son Jacob astounds me today.

Today I saw the man in the boy, caught glimpses of the beautiful man he will become.  I had picked him up from his new school, and we were sharing a snack and sunshine in one of the city’s delightful pocket parks.  Jake was sitting on the rim of a fountain. His glasses had gone dark and smoky in the brilliant afternoon light, so I couldn’t tell if his gray eyes were reflecting back the blue of the sky or the green of the trees, they shift so.

He was happy in a quiet sort of way.  I looked at him and saw him, not just my little boy that has always been, but this boy now.  Bigger, older, handsome in his somber uniform of white and navy blue.  There was a teenager-like stillness in him, observing the world while munching his chips.  It was one of those perfect September days New York City sometimes throws at you: the air crackling, warming in the sun, cool in the shade, and Jake so cool in his shades.

I know it may sound strange and shallow, but I thank my lucky stars that he is handsome.  Because humans?  We are strange and shallow, we forgive more from the good looking.  We spot them a few points, we give them the benefit of the doubt, assume they are better, smarter, toss them a free pass.  Statistics prove this, it’s a favorite social science study subject: how anything attached to an attractive photo is scored higher than the exact same content tied to the ugly.  Human nature.  Which will work to the advantage for my son’s future, so it is forgiven.  “He’s a little weird, but so handsome, let’s let him in the club.”  See?

I’ve been sporting a lot of fantasies of this future lately, seeing as he’s on the cusp of so much change.  Jake’s finally at a school that is setting the bar nice and high, and he seems to be rising up to the challenges.  The limit?  Pure blue September sky.

Inspired by a Scooby Do episode Jacob recently announced: “I want to be a rock star, Mom, I want to go on stage, can I go play on stage?”  And I had an epiphany.  What a perfect job for Jacob that would be: drummer in a rock and roll band.  He would make a terrific rock star.  Large, handsome and strong, he is very musical, loves to sing, has great rhythm. And?  Drummers?  No one expects them to talk much.  And all that banging and stomping?  He’d be getting his sensory needs met while having a blast.  His maniacal laugh, his big, big over-the-top personality?  Rock and roll, baby!  I’m smelling a win-win here.

Next step: get him a drum set.  And pray the neighbors are deaf, understanding or better yet, both.

My son, the rock star. I could live with that.

(For those of you living in NYC who are about to call me out at the “brilliant sunshine” reference on this gray and stormy day {Brooklyn Tornado!}, I hereby confess that the actual “today” of this post was yesterday, Wednesday. It took me until now to decipher my chicken scrawled notes and get it up on the computer. Freaking sticklers.)


  1. What a lovely post. We have much in I really understand the beauty of those moments, and the gratitude when they come. Thank you for your beautiful writing!

  2. Oh, my Jacob is an awesome drummer! I'll see if I can find a picture of him with his drum kit for your Jacob.

    We got Carter a snare drum and Jacob has been teaching him a few things. Carter's sensory issues make big noises difficult for him, but not when HE controls them. The drums? Awesome. I can't even tell you; it does something for him that I don't understand. It's the power, I think.

    Your boy is so, so beautiful. Your deep love for him pours out of every word.

    Also? I love the way you write. Your style - I'm trying to think of a word to describe it. Gentle, I think. Even when you write about the hard stuff, your words are like cool water.

  3. This was fun to read. I think I know the feeling- I get it with my son (7.5 years, with Aspergerian tendencies), and my daughter and husband for that matter, and want to burst open with love and wrap them up in it and hold onto it forever. We seem to have a lot in common(TV and travel and turmoil.) Keep up the good work, Mom.

  4. Just came across your blog. Love the joy and realism and your playful attitude! I'm in the Bronx and we're enjoying the sunshine today with no after-effects of your Brooklyn tornadoes. :)

  5. That's a great job for him. I tell my son that he can do anything he wants, if he is willing to work hard to accomplish it. That's his biggest problem. He doesn't want to do the work, because it is so hard for him. He struggles so hard with communication and fine motor skills.

  6. I love when I catch a glimpse of who the girls will be as women.

    Yesterday, my older daughter Maj dressed as Avril Lavigne for a themed birthday party. My older daughter is not a dress-up kind of girl, and so my younger daughter Kallan helped her.

    Nine year old Kallan helped eleven year old Maj find a photo of Avril she could copy. Helped her pick out an outfit. Let Maj borrow items from her own more glamorous closet. Helped spray temporary hair dye. Apply eye make-up. Accessorize.

    And my older daughter was so excited about the end result. And my younger daughter was so pleased with her sister's happiness.

    I watched as these two girls play-acted at being women.

    And saw them as the women they will become.

    Heart-breaking beautiful stuff, that.

    Thanks, you.

  7. "heart breaking beautiful stuff, that." I love your last comment up there.

    I also love how clearly - and PRESENTLY - you are able to connect with your boys. (And then, of course, tell us all about it. ha.)

    Finally, if we're trading shallow for shallow, that is a Hanna Andersson hoodie, isn't it? I'm a little obsessed with those.

  8. OK, I am very fond of this Google Blogger space - for a techno weenie like me it's been easy to use and really allowed me to jump right in.

    BUT, and that's a big but here (NO JOKES ALLOWED) - I am becoming increasingly frustrated by not being able to reply directly to comments, to have conversational threads going here, like my friends working in the WordPress platform.

    I want to reply to you all, to comment on your comments, thank you, joke back with you, etc.

    I want to say YES to Kirsten & tell her that is absolutely a Hanna Andersson "Survivor Jacket" that I am also a little obsessed with - this one is a size 140 and Jake's had an orange one since he was a size 90 (fellow Hannamaniacs will understand.)

    I want to tell Kris that her comments, like her blog posts are beautiful things, that she fulfills the "just connect" imperative like no one else on this planet.

    I want to tell Adrienne how I would LOVE to see her son drumming, and my posts do not feel complete until she has left her comment. And the praise of one who is such a good writer herself? Well, it makes me blush, truly.

    I want to thank and welcome all newcomers who have left their stamp on my post and ask them to pull up a chair and sit a while, tell them I look forward to visiting them back.

    SIGH. I guess it's time to start investigating a move to a comment thread capable platform, but don't hold your breath, it's going to be a while before I make up my mind. This has, after all, been my first Bloggy home and I'm sentimental.

  9. Great post! Drumming would be an ingenious career choice. I love those still moments when you get a little glimpse of the future XXX

  10. Ooh this post really got under my skin. Your son is handsome and it would be fabulous if he was in a rock band. Like that Smiley is pretty and I make sure she is always well-presented, exactly because she gets a better reaction from people when we go out - she LOVES it when she gets complements xx


I am so sorry to have to turn word verification back on, but the spam-bots have found me - yikes!