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i am bossy

Newsletter: Month Two-Hundred-and-sixteen.

Dear Man,

infant

That’s you when you were only two-months old. You had just learned a nifty trick and that trick was holding your head up without assistance. Bossy laid you on the drafty living room floor with nothing but a flimsy blanket to separate you from the sea of painted hardwood flooring, and there you sailed every morning exuding superior intellect and humor.

At the time we were living year-round in a quiet seashore community, because when young Bossy and her husband found out they were going to have a baby they decided to ditch rock bands and the city and their seamless support system in order to move 78-miles into a scene from The Shining.

Do you remember that part in The Shining when Shelly Duvall realizes that the reason people live in a reclusive seashore resort in the first place is because they are too fecking unsociable to invite young mothers over for wine?

old-fashioned

You perfected many advanced tricks in those days — like pressing your face against your playpen netting, and sticking your legs between the rungs of your crib. And before Bossy knew it a year had passed and you were walking.

one

You were the most beautiful and delightful person Bossy could imagine knowing.

hand

You kept everyone entertained — and lucky thing because Bossy’s husband had grown strange facial hair and Bossy was trying to decide if she wanted to spend the rest of her life married to Uncle Billy. Your luminous blue eyes and little chiclet teeth distracted Bossy from signing the divorce papers.

behind

And after that first year we moved back to the city where Bossy and her husband both returned to school. You loved everything about the city because you were only a big-wheel ride away from your grandparents and the little playground. Plus the city offered a way better selection of suspenders.

suspenders

When you were three you began school. You were intrigued with the idea of sharing your air space with fifteen other kids your size, even if arguments like, “He hit me back first,” left you a little confused.

pumpkin

But what you enjoyed most about your time in the city was the relationship you built with your uncle. The two of you were inseparable — and Bossy’s sage brother taught you many important things, like the alphabet where to buy Chicken-Cheese-Steaks at midnight.

strings

And Bossy and her husband were also happy in the city — they soon finished school, adopted a dog, and secured two great jobs within walking distance. Which is why they decided to buy a house. Twenty minutes. Outside the city. Don’t ask, except to say: Bossy will go to great lengths to avoid using a Pooper Scooper.

poohie

You settled into your new small town life with aplomb. You made tons of small town friends and participated in lots of small town things. And within three years you had a small town baby sister. And everything was swell well hell. ‘Hell’ because your parents decided to relocate again — this time the moving van delivered you from your happy life into an episode of Green Acres.

donkey

Not that the years on the farm didn’t come with a few benefits. For instance you learned to play by yourself — for hours, weeks, and Phanerozoic eons at a stretch. You mastered the art of scoring touchdowns against peckish roosters. And you learned that black snakes often sun themselves on warm March mornings. Inches from your breakfast cereal. But mostly our proximity to Washington DC inspired your fierce love of politics. Never one to be outshone by your sister, you were an active participant in the heroic Blowjobs Don’t Count rally.

march

When you were nearly ten we moved back to our small town outside of the city. Bossy and her husband came to this decision after considering economic, social, and school district concerns. That and the fact that you rarely removed your Batman costume and it was beginning to freak Bossy and her husband the hell out. We bought a house on our old street and you settled directly back into your small town relationships and small town activities. Do you know how all kids pass through An Awkward Phase? For you, not so much.

ties

It was right around this time when you fell in love with New York and began imagining yourself in a college experience shaped by a major city.

scooter

But ghost town, farm town, small-town, or city — throughout these changes you’ve always been a sweet family citizen and one hell of a great guy.

boat

And now you are eighteen. It seems freaky when only yesterday you were dashing around in a blur of curls and silly fun. Wait — that was yesterday.

mupmug

Alas not much has changed. You’re still that winning, hilarious, focused, intelligent, clear-eyed, inquisitive baby boy. Bossy is so happy she had the chance to grow up with someone like you.

Happy Birthday.

booth

Reader Interactions

Comments

  1. Dear Bossy,

    Even though I am traditionally impatient, I love when I have to wait a few hours for your post: I know it means you are putting up something REALLYEXTRA SPECIALLY GOOD.

    Happy Birthday to Mr. Bossy’s Son!!!

    Reply

  2. Boy, Bossy. You sure looked young when you were younger.

    Yes, I know, ‘No Shit’…but, I mean, like really young.

    Reply

  4. Oh, I love this. My baby boy is just about to turn 12 and I still couldn’t love him more.

    My husband says I proclaim, “I just LOVE this age!” with every, single age my kids ever are.

    What’s his point, I ask.

    Reply

  6. By the way — my 8-yr-old daughter has a Bambi that she’s loved flat in the way that your son’s Poohie was loved flat. Except we call it Road Kill Bambi now. (“Loved flat” probably has a nicer ring to it.) She doesn’t find it quite as hysterically funny as we do…

    Reply

  10. aww… what a delightful birthday tribute. and man oh man, “sir” is right, you DID look awful young when you were young. which is not to imply you look anything but fabulous now, but you’d think bossy would at least look as though she’d hit puberty when she started having kids 😉

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  11. I love the photo of you when he was one! This was beautiful. And I love your comment about growing up with him — that’s how I feel with PunditGirl — that on some level, we are growing up together, notwithstanding my advanced age!

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  17. I have a teeny complaint, Ms Bossy. I come here to laugh, and I do, nearly everyday. I do not come here to get all misty-eyed. Or to be reminded that my sweet little 4 yr old tyrant will one day be a handsome 18 year old man soon heading off to somewhere without me or his stuffed dog. It is too much. Tomorrow, please blog about something a little less serious, like global warming. Thanks.

    All the same, Happy Birthday, Spawn of Bossy.

    Reply

  18. Meg is grateful to Bossy for the idea of writing a photo tribute/letter to each of my boys on their upcoming birthdays. Because you know, the time DOES pass so, so quickly!

    My oldest son is closer to 18 now than he is to having been a baby. Where do the years go???

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  20. Yes, yes, you do the funny well, but I luuuuhved this. So glad I came to see who that Bossy person commenting on Melissa Summers’ blog was.

    Off to put more batteries in the camera so that I can do this for my kids in 16-17 years.

    Reply

  25. Oh! Happy Birthday Bossyson! And happy Birth Day to you too Bossy. 18 years ago you pushed him out. I don’t know what it feels like to raise a son for 18 years yet but I know what it took to get one out in the first place – so well done you, on all counts.

    Reply

  26. I’m glad my mum doesn’t blog. So I don’t have the dilemma of the words similar to “…the fact that you rarely removed your Batman costume…” being broadcasted to mum’s thousand plus readers. *grin* Happy 18th Birthday to him!

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  34. Gah. Bossy made Moi verklempt again. Well, a good cry every now and then is just about as therapeutic as a good laugh. Happy, happy birthday to Bossy’s charming son.

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  36. Clearly I am in no state to be reading blogs. I thought Bossy was a safe bet, what with me in this fragile, weepy state, but no, you pulled out the great guns and slayed me with this dazzling tribute.

    Lucky boy, lucky mom, lucky man, lucky Bossy.

    Reply

  37. Happy birthday to your son! What an amazing post! I was teary eyed at the end. I loved the Batman part as well. It gave me hope as my son likes to wear a dish towel on his head, although at least people know who Batman is.

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  42. Fer chrissake you’re making me all teary. I know I’m way too old but please consider adopting me. I bring wine.

    Happy Birthday, Son of Bossy! This is one of those cases when it’s good to be a S.O.B.

    (And a double fer chrissakes. What were you, like, twelve when you had that child?)

    Reply

  53. Happy Birthday, Man!

    Twas a touching post, but the part that really got me was when ya’ll moved to a quaint farm and found wolf spiders. All of a sudden, I could RELATE.

    Reply

  65. What a beautiful tribute. I love the ‘growing up with you’ bit. Now I gotta go blow my nose and splash a little cold water on my eyes. sniff….

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  66. You done good, Bossy!

    Having e-mailed with your son a few times about life and college, it’s clear that he’s ridiculously smart, talented, cool, and funny—just like his momma!

    What a great tribute!

    Reply

  67. oh GOD, this is fabulous. It’s not POSSIBLE that you have an eighteen year old, unless you had him when you were 6. Wait, you do look sort of young in those photos……

    Congratulations and happy birthday to your handsome boy.

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  73. Lovely retrospective! Would it be okay if, in 6 years, I photoshop all the heads to look like my son and relatives? Would that be wrong to do? I’m just not convinced I could do as good a job as this. I may have to plagiarize and whatnot.

    Reply

  78. Oh dear I am such a fan…
    I love the way you can combine tender maternal stuff with snarky funny stuff. Happy birthday to your son and long may acerbity wave.

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  79. Eight. Teen. I remember *being* 18, and the boys weren’t nearly as adorable as yours. And if the college visit saga is any indication of his wits as well as yours, you are both brilliant. So, you know: happy being-born day to him, and getting-him day to you.

    Reply

  86. Oh Bossy – I knew you when you were in diapers and now look at you…your wearing pants… and your kids are all of that and a box of life cereal! Now that i am officially addicted to the artist currently known as Bossy, How will i know there is a new installment – would you notify me? that would be grand.

    PS- speaking of the “Artist”, I got the new Prince CD …Hated IT!!
    Why don’t you just get Axis Bold as Love and the best of James Brown put your speakers on the window ledge facing outside, lay a blanket in the yard and have a little “I Feel Goodstock” with your bad self. Or not. All my love, BSR

    Reply

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