Rewind, Restart

Rewind, Restart

by | Mar 16, 2011 | grandparenting, Jing Lejano, parenting, woman

By Jing Lejano

At 43, I never thought that I’ll be singing ABCs, reciting 123s, and wondering what all those twinkling stars are doing tonight. But here I am doing nursery whatnots 13 years after my youngest son was born.

I was already on teen mode.

I am way past the sleep-deprived mommy phase of the baby years when you can’t get four straight hours of sleep because your little one is hungry—again. Today, my kids would eat just about anything. And fortunately for me, they know their way around the kitchen. No need for mommy to get up early in the morning to make breakfast.

I am past all the angst and agony of separation anxiety when your preschooler grabs your knee every time you step out the door. Today, my kids are all too happy when I have to go out of town. If I’m gone for just two days in fact, they’d even ask, “Back so soon?” Those rascals!

I am past the stage where I worry about meeting development milestones, height averages, and weight standards. Today, my kids are healthy and strong. And my boys are all taller than me—which doesn’t mean I can’t raise my voice and stand my ground when they don’t come home on time or they don’t wash the dishes when it’s their turn.

And so, when I became a grandmother at 41, I had this very scary nightmare that I’d have to go through all those things again. I actually lost sleep thinking I might not get enough sleep—again.

I needn’t have worried. My daughter is a good mother, and she’s an even better daughter because she didn’t ask her mother to do the mothering for her.

What I like best about being a Lula at 43 is that I get to do the fun part of mothering. Sophie and I eat ice cream, sing with Barney, and dance to Sheryl Crow. In the mornings, she greets me with a big fat kiss. In the afternoons, we cuddle up on the couch, watching Mickey Mouse. In the evenings, we play ball under the moonlight. I have so many other things that I want to do with her, so many things I want to teach her. I can’t wait!

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

Rose Among the Thorns

Rose Among the Thorns

by | Mar 8, 2011 | children, family, parenting, Ruth M. Floresca, woman

My name is Ruth Manimtim-Floresca, a work-at-home mom who contributes articles to Philippine print and online publications. I feel blessed that I am able to earn from what I enjoy doing and which come with flexible work hours. This allows me to spend more time with my family and primarily care for my son with special needs.

I have four boys aged 12, 13, 15, and 17. Daniel, my youngest, is in fifth grade; Joshua, my second son, is a high school junior; and Geffrey, our firstborn is a college freshman taking up Digital Media Arts. James, my third child, has spastic quadriplegic cerebral palsy. He can’t talk or walk but he has already taught our family so much about love, patience, and faith for the past 13 years, and counting.

Although our household can be noisy at times, they are mostly happy sounds. Sure, the three boys argue over computer schedules and who’s going to wash the dishes or feed the dog every now and then. But when we ask them to take care of their brother while their dad and I go out to do errands, buy groceries, or attend meetings and media events, they can be trusted to do that job well.

We have been maid- and yaya-free for the past three years and we’re doing fine. Honestly, I feel more confident now when leaving the house with only the kids there than having someone else look after them. I believe our circumstances have taught my boys to be more resilient and independent. Like their dad, whom I so appreciate for being hands-on, I hope our kids would also become thoughtful husbands someday who won’t expect their wives to do everything around the house.

I may feel overwhelmed and utterly exhausted with house chores and writing deadlines most of the time, but I wouldn’t trade places with anyone else. I am grateful for where, and who, I am now.–Ruth Manimtim-Floresca

Photo by Joshua Harris on Unsplash