Every Mother’s Day I reflect on the fact that being a mom is absolutely nothing like I had pictured. Frankly, it could not be any further from what I imagined. I visualized taking my children to “Mommy & Me” gatherings while making plans with other mothers to coordinate evenings of wine drinking and Bunko at locations straight out of a Pottery Barn catalog. I envisioned some gossip about the kids who seemed a bit “off” and making fun of the parents who inevitably knew way too much about everything; sharing friendly, fake exchanges and complimenting ridiculously posed family photos. But that cookie-cutter life was not meant for the three of us.

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Most of us need a good wingman; whether it be socializing, marketing oneself, or picking up on the ladies. Not Sandler. Not only is the kid his own best sidekick; he is a social phenomenon and a self-promoting genius with more confidence than anyone I know. To watch him in action is really a magnificent event. He is the only guy I have ever witnessed walking away from almost every situation with several phone numbers (mostly girls), self promoting his instagram (to which he has no access), and gaining his own little network of admirers.

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As I anxiously awaited the morning of our chance to meet Tony Hawk, I kept trying to hurry Sandler so we did not miss anything. With one foot out the door, my frustration with his slow pace and his utter silence alerted familiar feelings of curiosity. I checked in to see what was taking him so long. He sat diligently writing a letter with his depiction of skateboarder portraits that read, “To Tony and Miki, I think you are very nice, Love Sandler.” He was trying to attach the handwritten greeting to whoopee cushions—he felt it was a unique gift. After he got his presentation situated, he placed everything in his Chucky Doll lunch box (which doubles as his brief case).

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Most of us were taught never to judge a book by its cover and to treat others how you wish to be treated. If only both were so easy to implement and live by. Unfortunately, many of us are guilty of judging quickly or simply not having the patience to apply such thought to situations. It is Sandler who not only reminds me of how important these qualities are to exercise, but also makes me pray those witnessing some of our moments are living by these good intentions as well.

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As Sandler’s passion for skateboarding has progressed we spend increasingly more hours at the skatepark. Now being so immersed in the culture, one thing has become apparent: skateboarding is a colorful lifestyle. I am not just alluding to the interesting wardrobes and intricate tattoos. Or even the creative hairstyles that somehow remain perfectly quaffed amidst difficult maneuvers. I am referring to the shared sense of camaraderie.

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As kids, a lot of us grew up thinking adults knew the answer to every question. We thought they had the intuition to navigate life and raise children. In contrast, most of us adults have absolutely no clue what we are doing. Many of us just make up answers as we go along. Now, I have the luxury to be creative with how I raise my children (including how I answer their interesting questions). Sandler is inquisitive and will challenge most answers people give. However, we have established to not question authority. That authority being: me.

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In recent months, Sandler has grown quite fond of homeless people. It all began when we passed out Special Olympic sundry bags to people in need around the area. He studied the zip lock bags filled with goodies and asked about each and every item. He was so curious why someone would need things like deodorant, a razor, chewing gum, gift cards, wet wipes, etc. I explained that not everyone has an income or home, and many people are in a position where they cannot afford necessities. My explanation was not well received. He thought it was ridiculous that we had everything we needed while there were people who did not even have a roof over their head—let alone transportation or food.

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It never ceases to amaze me Sandler can both humble a person and reveal their confidence in a matter of seconds—and then get up and go about his business. As his mother, if it was not so nerve racking it might be one of the most enjoyable social experiments to witness. For instance, because of his lifestyle he is often surrounded by professional athletes who most people idolize. The kind of people who get asked for a picture or autograph. Sandler is oblivious to fame. If a person intrigues him [which most people do], he will approach them, compliment them, ask a few questions, shake their hand, and leave behind an awe struck legend.

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Sandler is warming up to the idea of me skateboarding, but he still stays as far from where I ride as possible. What I have managed to do is: a phenomenal job of landing on my hip creating a volleyball sized bump adorned with unnatural skin tones that have made him that much more uncomfortable with my ability, or lack there of, to skate. However, he did say, “Mommy, I like that you’re skating, but I’m going to call you Nikki at the park so people don’t know you’re my mom. I really don’t like when you turn your skin that color, so please don’t fall like that any more.” 

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Around four months pregnant with Sandler, I was told he was high risk for Downs Syndrome and possible birth defects. Simultaneously, Bootsie was also being assessed for significant cognitive setbacks as well as delays in fine and gross motor skills. I was relieved when Sandler’s amnio came back with no alarming birth defects or Downs Syndrome. However, several weeks later the Genetics Counseling Committee Of Colorado called to tell me that Sandler had something they had never seen before—an unbalanced translocation of chromosomes two and eight. I felt like I had been blindsided by a “parental Mack truck” and struggled to process the overwhelming influx of information.

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