"Raised in a brothel in the New Orleans red light district, one could hardly blame Beaverhausen for falling victim to the trappings of a derelict lifestyle. After finding faith at a Pentecostal snake handling revival, Beaverhausen turned her life around and she shares her tales with us. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll hug your kids a little tighter." - Heywood Jablome - The Tijuana Times

"Beaverhausen has transformed my life with her inspirational accounts of child-rearing. I previously bathed my six kids every night, felt extreme guilt when they cried over having none of their five daddies around, and berated my self worth for not keeping an Architectural Digest home.
But now: I relax in my toy strewn home, knocking back my 4th glass of merlot while my 12 yr old rubs my aching corns. I threaten to leash my kids to the radiator and feel great! Oh, I raise my unshaven yeti-leg to you."
- Kallera Hoor

Friday, December 6, 2013

The End of an Era

This post is dedicated to my lovely firstborn, who made single motherhood enjoyable. 

This is what I like to refer to as "Our Floating Heads" picture
Dear Ben, 

Tomorrow officially marks the end of an era for us.  I've been going through some old photos of when it was just me and my little Benji Toes McGee.  We were the center of each other's lives for so long, until Sophia came along when you were six years old, followed by Donnie, Sterling, Wyatt, and Gracie a year later.  You're an incredibly social critter, and bore these changes like a champ.  I imagine the saying, "the more, the merrier," will forever be your motto.  

I want to thank you for the honor of being your mom.  You are such a little comedian and will act the fool to make someone laugh.  Your sense of humor and the way you see the world amazes me everyday.  

Ever since preschool, you would rather spend time drawing your current obsession on the back of your school papers instead of doing the actual schoolwork.  Sure, I've given you a ton of shit about this because I want you to succeed in life. But deep down, I am so very proud of your drawing skills and imagination.  I want to pat you on the back and teach you how to shadow the TARDIS to make it appear threedimentional while you tell me about the latest episode of Dr. Who.  Instead, I push my 9 year old self aside and make you do your multiplication.  Since you won't be reading this for a very long time, I feel safe putting this on "paper."  

My sweet boy, you were the first person who taught me how to love someone so much that it hurts.  You have given me so much joy in your nine years that the thought of you can bring me to tears.  Good tears.  I don't want you to ever grow up, but your body doesn't seem to give a damn for my wishes and you outgrow your jeans as soon as we buy them.  I miss cuddling you, and even when I try these days, your bony arms & legs stick out at awkward angles while you raise an eyebrow at me, but let me do it just the same.  

I'm a bit weepy now, so I'll wrap up before this gets embarrassingly mushy for you.  But I'll leave you with a few pictures of your little self to help us both remember the beginning of love.

You always insisted on helping, even in carrying objects
 that were bigger than you.
You would eat spaghetti sauce (Prego only) with a
spoon.  Noodles didn't impress you.
Unfit parenting at its finest, you loved
peppermint mocha lattes. (and still do) 
This is your first day of preschool. You had your blue blanky
and a sippy cup of socks packed in your bag, and your
trusty Snoopy under your arm.  You were ready for the world.
This was your friend, Mr. Bones, who replaced Snoopy.  Mimi
got him for you and you took him with us everywhere.  In this
pic, we were at Frisch's for breakfast, where you fed him
pancakes. It took ages to get syrup off of his teeth and ribs.
Eating Cracker Jacks at a Reds game while
charming the ladies next to us with your brilliant
baby blues and your charming personality.
I love this photo because it's the epitome of Ben.
You  were always so chill with a smile on your face
and you never knew a stranger. 
You're a tad weird in that you prefer Italian
subs from subway over cake, cookies, or candy.
But that's all part of your charm.  ;)
Hats off you you, my sweet baby boy.
 I am so, so proud to be your mama.

1 comment:

  1. Goodness tears all over. So sweet, both of you