All I Want For Christmas: 2005

Going through Sebastian's box from pre-school, I found one of his hand written letters, from two or three years ago, with a short list of presents he wanted:

Dear Santa,

I want a Lego play set and a gay dog.

Love, Seba

I remember dropping him off at school and a very embarrassed teacher coming out of the classroom because she had to ask me something. My antennae was up. Hmmm. I was wondering what could have possibly come from the mouth of my babe. I remember her smiling, looking a little hesitant, and finally trying to explain the letter (to Santa) that I would be soon be getting in the mail. She tells me that she asked two other teachers to ask him again. Just to make sure she heard it right the first time. ("I am positive I heard him say he wants a gay dog.") I assure her that she heard right. Finally, she asks, "what's a gay dog?"

That year, Sebastian took to watching a weekly program on the lives of show dogs and their 'parents.' His favorite dog was a chihuahua named Chachi belonging to a gay couple. Sebi loved this dog and his cool clothes. To Seba, a gay dog was synonymous to a dog that came with a wardrobe as large as his. For months, all he asked for was a "gay dog." When M. and I said no, he asked everybody else who would listen. Christmas was the perfect opportunity to ask Santa.

If youre wondering, he didn't get a (gay) dog for Christmas. His cousin passed him a stuffed dog which he named Chachi. Chachi has (and still ) travels with us everywhere. But more about Chachi and the rest of the menagerie later.

Next Year's Plan

Right before falling asleep Seba tells me, "Next year when I turn seven, can you look for a really, really nice spot to build a house. Like on the same street as Marty (his best friend). Then can you find a person who knows how to make really, really good houses outside and inside...Even if it's expensive"

If he were an adult, what he'ld really be saying is: "Find me real estate in a prime location. Then find me someone who is capable of building a quality house. The interiors are just as important. Cost is not an issue."

Calling M. Did you hear this!

God Bless The Children

Just finished reading the news. The mother of a missing three year old girl is pleading 'not guilty.' She waited a month before reporting the child's dissapearance. Elsewhere, a six year old boy has been kidnapped by three men impersonating police officers. Authorities suspect it's all part of a drug ring. Almost everyday I read about a child that's been victimized in one way or another. I read it in the newspapers. Watch it on the news. And see it on the streets. It's distressing and unsettling that this type of news is becoming so commonplace. People should NOT be used to this. It's just not right.

What is happening to the people in this world???

No Title This Morning

I am procrastinating. I have an article due on Monday. I've only managed an un-cohesive two hundred words of gibberish. Last night was dreadful. After falling asleep at past mid-night, M. wakes me because he can't sleep. After thirty minutes of forgettable chatter, I convince him that he needs to give me a good fifteen minute backrub. It was the most excruciatingly painful fifteen minutes I've had in God know's how long. I don't recall whincing and the contorted expression on my face as an indication of delight. But M. was relentless in his kneading and pounding. After the longest fifteen minutes, it's Seba's turn to wake up. He can't breathe on "one side" of his nose. Twenty minutes of pillow fluffing, blanket rearrangeing, and small talk between M, Seba, and myself is followed by some cold medicine and a trip to the bathroom, where it seems, Seba has no interest in using the toilet. We sit at the edge of the tub, his head on my shoulder and my arms around him. He's quiet and relaxed. By 2.15 a.m., we are all in bed. Seba's finally sleeping soundly. I turn off the tv. The room is dark, then the snoring begins. Only four hours till my alarm clock goes off.