From the Mouths of Babes

It was January 2003, two weeks before I gave birth to my first born, John Giovanni, I went to Wal-Mart. The cashier noticed I was pregnant. Leaning forward and reaching to touch my right shoulder, he said, “When your baby is born, look behind his right shoulder, and there you will find a birth mark.” Thinking he was nuts, and a little freaky, I smiled and disregarded his request.
Three months later I returned to Wal-Mart and I soon as I saw this man, I remembered what he had told me. My jaw dropped because...my son has a birth mark behind his right shoulder. I reminded him who I was, what he had told me, and that my son, in fact, had that birth mark. I asked him how he knew about this and what it meant; very nonchalantly, he told me he could just see it and that it didn't really mean anything. He did however tell my mom on a later date that it meant he was going to be very special...spiritual.

Everyone thinks their kid is special and smart, but Giovanni is different. One summer evening when he was three I felt an unusual need to connection with him. We were watching Disney’s Lady and the Tramp. I wanted to strike up a conversation with him as the movie began, but wasn’t quite sure what to say to him. It was an strange feeling, not knowing what to say to my own son; like being on a first date. I considered asking him if he had ever seen this movie before, but I thought to myself, “How stupid, of course he hasn’t, he’s three and this movie must about 50 years old.” Just then he said, "No. No mommy, I've never seen this movie." I stayed still and silent for a few seconds as my eyes looked around for something to say as if they were going to find a response in thin air. "Oh, you haven't my love?" I replied as my eyes watered and I fought to hold back tears.

Later, I laid out two 'San Marcos' blankets out on the concrete drive way so we could lay out there and count stars. We counted up to one hundred then we laid there...silent. Again, I thought perhaps I should say or ask him something, but I didn't. Instead, I asked myself why it was so hard for me to be myself around my own son. What I did know was that that moment would not last forever. I wanted to tell him that I loved; and just as I was opening my mouth to utter the words, he said, "I love you, too, mommy." Immediately, I felt a knot building up in my throat. "I love you, too, mommy," he said again. I just smiled, gave him a hug and a kiss and told him I loved him.
I decided to let go of my inhibitions and ask him anything, no matter how stupid it might sound to me. So my question to him was, "Mijo, what do you want to be when you grow up?" "A grown up." he said.