Mom had me on a rain-soaked and rosy-fingered dawn in March, in Beverly Hills, of all places. Good, bad or melodramatically worse, she loved being a mom, and so do I. My son has my bad habit of only wanting everything or nothing and my bad heart. Yesterday when I told him it was time to take his heart medication, I forgot to use our magical language, I just said "It's time for your heart medicine." "That's not what it is." "Oh?" "It's watermelon juice."