Bread and Cheese (On Motherhood As Well)

“Di ako kain kanina Nay, nagcolor lang ako.”

When I heard this, I immediately hugged Baby out of pity. I felt so much for him. I figured (knowing full well his impatience when it comes to coloring) that he probably did not finish a coloring activity and thus was asked to finish it before given snacks. And by the time he had finished with the coloring (if he had), it was probably time to go already.

They are given free snacks in school. It is such a relief since it spares me the everyday task of thinking of suitable snacks for him, not to mention additional cost. And it is usually part of our everyday, “How-was-school-conversation” – what they had for snacks.

While I told him he ought to learn his lesson and finish his coloring so that he could eat along with his other classmates, my heart was actually breaking. Especially so when I learned he was the only one who was not able to eat. My heart broke again when he answered, “Bread and cheese” to my inquiry as to what his classmates had.

I knew he ought to learn his lesson about completing his tasks and yet, I feel somewhat bothered that he was made to feel left-out. That and the fact that he probably felt hungry by that time already.

It breaks my heart to picture him totally left out. It would have been better if he had another classmate with him… Arghh… Baby has really started with his journey. While I may want it differently, it is impossible for me to be with him every single second of the journey. I could only hold his hand at certain times. At this moment, it meant for the most part. But somewhere down the line, he would be all grown up and would be on his own… While I could insist to be always in the picture, I know I wouldn’t really dream of doing so. It is why I am adamant about “training” him, teaching him independence, giving him every opportunity to make use of his initiative… It is because I am preparing him well for the time when he would want to venture on his own… Now, why is my heart breaking at the thought?

If I could have my way, I would always want to be a part of his life. I would want to be a part of every milestone he may take. Not that I want to be in control of everything but that I would very much want him to ‘invite” me to be a part of it all… to share “almost” everything with me. If only as a confidant, a sounding board, a consultant, a friend… a person whose opinion he values the most…

I am now forced to look into my own relationship with my Mom. Do I invite her to be a part of my life? Or do I go my own way, insist on living my life my own way? Mama and I always have such phenomenal disagreements. And time and again it is always due to how she could be overly critical of everything. That and the tendency to just dwell on the negative, on the shortcomings and the worries. I love her very dearly and understand her most of the time but it had also been a constant wish that she sees past the negative… Mama is not quick with the praising. Sad, but I could not recall a single compliment coming from her. I would like to stress that all this is written in an “observing” manner. There is no censure or any bitterness for my part because certainly, while “very good! Well done!” might not be a part of her vocabulary, she is one of the most selfless person I have ever known. She always overextends herself… she would do everything she could for the persons that she loves… There is no tirelessness in her. Her demeanor when it comes to her family is always that of servitude. And for that I am and will forever be grateful.

I am just made to reflect on the being “overly-critical” part because it is the primary reason why I always hesitate to share with her my innermost thoughts or take steps at making her one of my confidants. It’s because I fear being criticized again or be misunderstood and be reprimanded instead of being encouraged… I wouldn’t want to have that with my son. I want him to see me as someone he could totally trust with anything. I want him to feel that he could be very raw with me, be at his worst and know full well that I love him no matter what. I know that this love I feel for my son is the same love that Mama feels for me though I may see it differently at times.

It takes reflecting on the matter to put everything in the right perspective. As always, writing and reflecting makes me understand things the more, and enables me to look at every situation objectively. Now, an earlier disagreement with Mama is slowly being devoid of its “sting.” I understand her more fully now. And I value her more fully now that I am a mother myself. Her being who she is – both the good and the “not-so-good” traits – is teaching me a great deal about being a mother. It is guiding me as to what I should aim to be, hope to be and work out to become…

Here’s a toast to all the mothers in the world. I know that while none of us may be perfect, nothing could ever compare to the kind of love we feel for our offspring. I think it’s a sliver of God’s love personified…