Babies, real and imagined…

This is Tre`, my darling just turned one year old nephew. He and I spend our days together while his parents work.

I love this little fellow as if he were my own child. Every day with him is wonderful, even when he’s having a rough day, like when he’s teething (two teeth to date) or sick or just clingy and refusing to allow me out of his sight.



Today was a clingy day. Hold me, love me, give me lots of kisses. When he kisses, he scrunches up his little face and purses his lips. You can not refuse him as it is just too adorable. This morning, I received approximately 100 kisses as he was in a kissy mood.

Postnap doldrums. After he woke up, I attacked with the camera. Unfortunately if I don’t use the red eye flash his little blue eyes turn demonic. He hates the flash, makes mean faces, and will growl at me when he’s fed up with it.

I don’t mind as he’s so photogenic, even when he’s tired. And, really who wouldn’t want to capture every moment of a child this beautiful.



Tre` and his bottle. He loves that damn thing. When you bring it to him, all full of milk, he claps for it.

Hell, when you enter a room he applauds. That really makes a person feel loved. I mean damn, he is so happy to see you he bounces up and down and claps.

Other cute things he does:

He dances. When the song “Save a Horse (Ride A Cowboy)” by Big and Rich comes on the television he stops in the middle of whatever he is doing goes to the tv and boogies. If I happen to play the CD (Horse of a Different Color, buy it) he looks at the TV for the video.

Tre`’s dance moves consist of bending his knees, bouncing up and down or stomping his feet. This evening he was squatting and bouncing with glee to Big and Rich and Gretchen Wilson (Here for the Party, buy it.)

I’m writing about him here for me. I want to remember some of these cute things he does in the years as he grows.

Mom has a bookshelf that has a bunch of stuffed animals which happen to be frogs on it. Now, this shelf is the perfect height for a baby. As soon as he gets here in the morning, he rampages the frogs and throws them to the floor. No matter how many times you put them up on the shelf, he knocks them down.

He doesn’t do it with malice but, with reason. Frogs belong on the floor with the rest of the toys.

Speaking of toys, he is the only 1 year old I have ever seen who will play by himself. He goes to his toybox pulls out his toys and plays. Cars race, babies are cuddled, blocks are gnawed on and examined.

He’ll sit there alone for long periods of time, then run up to me with his little arms raised for a cuddle and a kiss. He doesn’t stay in my lap for long, as soon as he’s ready he wiggles down and goes back to his play.

When he’s tired, he whines a little bit, and stumbles to you. I still rock him down, as there is nothing better on this earth than holding a tiny, sleepy baby who loves you.

There are times when he is asleep and I’m looking down at that angelic little face that I just smile. He is just a beautiful child and has such a sweet disposition.

I thank God, every day for bringing my niece, nephews, and friends’ children into my life. I love kids more than I can even explain here. I don’t have any of my own and I will never have a biological child here on earth.

I used to write about my infertility, a lot. I had numerous readers who were here mainly for that. Due to various reasons I don’t discuss it as much. It’s been 7 years since we started trying for a child. It isn’t happening.

We’re not ready, financially, or otherwise, to start the adoption process, and we may never be. At times I dream of a little girl. One with straight dark hair and a darker skin tone than my husband or I. It is always the same little girl.

Who knows if this will ever come true. For now, I love the children that are in my life, helping their parents, as I can, with them. The past 5.5 years since I became disabled have been a blessing and a curse.

The loss of my ability to work outside the home cost us a lot. Our home, our independence, just a place to call our own. But, the disability allowed me to take care of my niece, Kyrsie for several years, and now Tre`.

When Kyrsie went into daycare, it crushed me. I cried for a week. When it is time for Tre` to move on to a preschool setting, or Tony and I move, I’ll go through the same thing. He is part of my heart. I cherish every moment. Well, almost every the days when he is sick and miserable aren’t the greatest.

I know these are stolen moments, moments his parents should be having but, I am grateful to them. I get to take care of a child even though my body won’t allow me to have one of my own.

In my dream world, I’m a Mom of 3. 2 girls, 1 little boy. The above mentioned little girl, 1 who is pale and red haired, and a little boy who remains foggy. In my dreams, I’m not sitting here writing about my lack of children, but, holding my own. I’m rocking my little baby in a nursery decorated in bright colors with stars stenciled to the walls.

In my dream world, I’m not disabled. I never started down this path. But, if my dream world were to come true, I wouldn’t have spent all these years with Kyrsie and Tre`.

And, I’m not sure I could give that up. They are real and here and I can hug them and kiss them. They are known quantities.

My dream children are just that, dreams.