Mama's Boy

My M.B. has become a little boy. He strings words together into sentences, sings songs, makes jokes (toddler humor? Who knew?), dances, and even holds me with his hands cupping…

I wasn’t sending my not yet two-year-old Mama’s Boy off to Siberia or boarding school, but to a morning daycare program at the university where Neil and I teach. Logically,…

M.B. is a breast man. There’s no two ways about it. The boy loves his Mama — that would be me — and he loves his mama’s milk. My milky…

In my (relatively) energized second trimester, in between the morning sickness, exhaustion and headaches of the first trimester, and the aches and pains, exhaustion and headaches of the third, I…

Because M.B. was years in the making, the fleeting nature of his infancy is like a soft hum in the back of my mind. Will this be my one and…

We’re on the children’s train riding through the forest in Stanley Park, a massive piece of public land in the middle of Vancouver, British Columbia. My Mama’s Boy, at three…

Immediately after being pulled from my belly, my son had been whisked off to the NICU as a precaution for testing and antibiotics. Upstairs in the maternity wing I had…

It’s been three weeks. The days and nights are a blur as he reaches for me, again and again. We spend so much time in bed together, tummy to tummy,…

It’s like I’m a teenager again. Cute boys are everywhere, and I can’t stop checking them out. On the subway, in the street, in the park. Instead of taking drags…

The other day I gave in and bought something blue for my mama’s boy in the making — a winter baby bunting that my husband Neil said looked like the…

The other day, on the way uptown on a packed subway car, I positioned myself next to a set of seats labeled “priority seating” for the disabled. I was hoping…