My Little Man

Handsome
Funny
Smart
Sensitive
Stubborn
Athletic
Musically Gifted

Off the top of my head, these are the words that I would use to describe Quentin. He came into this world just over eight years ago. My husband and I had been married less than a year and were both terrified and thrilled to be having a baby. With Quentin, we went the old-fashioned route and chose not to find out what we were having. Those were exciting and happy times...even according to my now ex-husband. Quentin's arrival came with a lot of drama and excitement, which makes for a great story to share with Quentin. I tell him that he loved his mama so much that he didn't want to leave her, so the doctor had to go in and make him come out. He was a Mama's Boy then and he is a Mama's boy now. Some things just never change.

Quentin was a good baby that soon grew into an equally good toddler and has continued to grow in to a good boy. If you ask him what he likes, his answer will be simple...football. As I mentioned before, Quentin has always been a Mama's Boy. But if there was ever one person who he looked up to and admired, it was his Dad. The line between football and his Dad has never been clear to me. I mean, does he love football because of his Dad or does he admire his Dad because of football? Looking in retrospect, I see now that our family was never my ex's number one priority. First was His job as a football coach and then came His family. Back then, I just believed that that was the life of a coach and I accepted that and made the most of it. Now I see that that wasn't how it had to be. Now I see all of the time that could have been spent with us that was not. I have always seen Quentin longing for time with his Father. When we were married, I did everything that I could to facilitate that relationship. I created time for them to be together and made Him a better parent because of it. And whatever I was doing worked. Quentin valued his time with his Dad and was happy with whatever time he got. In his eyes, his Dad could do no wrong and that was just how I liked it.

My most vivid memory of Quentin came about a year and a half ago. It is not of his first steps or his first words or any of those other monumental milestones that us mothers meticulously keep a record of. I remember the night that I told Quentin that his Dad and I were not going to be married anymore and that He was not going to live with us anymore. Although I don't remember the exact date, I remember it like it was yesterday. Probably because it was such a traumatic experience. And why wouldn't it be? I alone, sat down with my children and completely shattered the safe and secure life that they knew. I held their hearts in my hands and broke them with my words. Each child had their own response to the words that I used, but Quentin's response will stay with me forever. He understood everything that I was saying. There was no sugar-coating it for him. Quentin has always been wise beyond his years. He has an old soul and when I say that he is sensitive, I don't mean that he cries a lot, I mean to say that he is very intuitive and sensitive to the feelings of others. He has a great capacity for empathy and I think that is one of the best qualities that a person can possess. But it was that quality that made my words hurt him more. The look on Quentin's face pierced my soul, and while the others quickly began throwing their arsenal of questions at me, he just sat there in silence. When I asked him if he had any questions for me, he simply looked at me with his big brown watery eyes and shook his head.

It wasn't long after that that my sister showed up with her daughter. We had planned for them to come that evening, in the hopes that it would be a good distraction for the kids and it would allow us to get out of the house and do something fun if we needed to. But by the time she got there, the kids seemed to have recovered well from our conversation and so we decided to just fix dinner and stay in. As we sat down to dinner, the room filled with conversation and I remember feeling a sense of relief that we seemed to have made it through "the talk" relatively unscathed. However, that feeling didn't last and it didn't take long to notice that Quentin wasn't talking or eating. When we asked him what was wrong he said he just wasn't hungry, but I could see that he was upset and so I took him into another room to talk. That's when the gates opened up. Quentin began to cry, to sob really. You know that gut-wrenching cry that comes from the deepest part of your being? I never knew that such a cry could come from such a small child. Together, Quentin and I sat on the couch and wept for I don't know how long. No words were spoken, there were only tears. And when it was clear that the crying wouldn't stop, I took Quentin upstairs. He cried that he wanted his Dad and so we called him and I remember him crying on the phone, asking his Dad why he didn't want to live with us anymore. Then I remember hearing his Dad tell him that he needed to stop crying and that he was going to need to be strong for me...end of conversation. Quentin continued to cry and I sent him into my room. A brief and not-so-friendly conversation ensued. Don't cry? Be strong for your Mom? No. Not acceptable. No six year-old boy should be responsible for the well-being of their parent and no child of mine will ever be told that they can't cry. I went back to my weeping child and assured him that it was not his job to be strong for me and that it was okay to cry. We laid there in the dark, me holding my precious boy just as I had when he was a baby. I held him as he cried himself to sleep and even then, he continued to cry and it was then that I wept. With Quentin in my arms, his body still shaking, I too cried myself to sleep.

I write about Quentin now because over the past couple of months I have watched a war wage within him and it consumes me with worry. Events of the summer seem to have caused Quentin to look at his Dad differently. No, lets be honest here, his Father's actions over the summer have caused him to look at Him differently. He is a smart kid and as he gets older, I can see that he is seeing things that he maybe didn't see before. He is putting the pieces together when it comes to the end of our marriage and I think it is safe to say that his Dad no longer has a place on that pedestal that Quentin used to put him on. This makes me sad because I think that every boy deserves to have a Daddy that they can look up to and that was what I always wanted for Quentin. I can see that it makes Quentin sad too. I have even watched him lash out at me because of it. Just another perk of being the single parent I guess. Quentin deserves so much more than the disappointment that he is becoming accustomed to, so I am making that my goal. To remove the constant disappointment from his young life...but more on that later.

.........................................Mama's Boy...........................................

Q has been drumming since he was 2 and now wants to play guitar

.................................He is definitely a thinker...............................

...........The best big brother, so protective of his little sisters..........