Being moms, it is our everyday pursuit to become more than just the average superheroes. However, technically we’d be dealing with great responsibilities rather than that of awesome super powers. Being supermom means exaggerating the living daylights of goodness within you. Yep, I am, to some extent, a supermom and i have this handsome toddler named “Rio ALexandrei” whom I most love to call “Bori”.
For a 3-year-old kiddo, Bori’s already very smart and witty and a heck of an animated young fellow. To top that fact, lemme post some of his pictures.
(you can click on the images for larger view)
Like I said, animated and his character speaks loudly for itself.
Going back to the subject, for us moms of toddlers who know not much about their misdemeanors yet, I bet you’d agree with my end that although “good” moms are already benevolent in nature to their youngsters, one should always consider making extra-extra-extra room for superfluous loving-kindness – against all nerve-wrecking odds. Parenthood requires a whole lot of self-control and temper management. We have to learn how to put out the fire by way of paying attention and considering what lie beyond our kid’s big bright eyes – innocence and whole lot of curiosity. Yep, raise your hands if you’re a mom whose temper goes out the window on a regular basis; and for those who do more than they should in, say, a span of one day, give yourselves a big round of applause. You are super!
And just to show you mums that you are not alone in dealing with such toddler dilemma, I want to share with you one mind-boggling experience that I had in pursuit of being a good “inay” – whereas, being one means you must know how to keep your word.
So it all started on a nice 14th of October evening. I was giving my achy back a good stretch on the bed after a hard day’s work and then came Bori barging into the room on his usual “jumping on the bed around and on me as if I was pain-proof – so much for giving my achy back a good stretch. There he was with his smile which acquaints me that he was up to something, as always. Earlier that night, I had to list down some random stuff, after which I rested my brown notebook (which he recently claimed as his by way of marking territorial scribbles on it, such a sneaky scheme he had) at the foot of the bed.
Usually, I would let him draw ONLY at the back of my journals/notebooks (I’m actually fond of collecting them) because I wouldn’t want to be in the way of my kid’s promising artistic qualities.
So I was simultaneously keeping my head at rest and my eyes (God bless the female’s peripheral vision) on him and what he might plan to do next. Just as I suspected, he got my notebook and then gave me THE look – yep, that tormenting innocent “pretty please” eyes.
“Sa likod ha”, I said, instructing him to write at the back of it. Trying to become a bona fide non-nosey mom was a real effort (and drag) but somehow I managed to pull it off and pretended that I was minding my own business.
All the while that he was scribbling he would spurt and sing a few lines of his favorite cartoon shows’ theme songs. I laughed in my head about him being so effortlessly adorable. It’s true that kids are bundles of joy so we really have to seize and enjoy the moment that they’re still KIDS and have that KID in us connect with them as well.
“Tantaran! Inay, Sponge Bob!” (“Tada! Mom, Sponge Bob!”) I looked over to let him know that I was acknowledging his creativity. I was actually overwhelmed by his drawing. He drew on his own and this is what it looked like (no edits whatsoever):
Out of the proud mom in me, I posted the picture on my Facebook account together with this caption, “Si spongebob daw, 3-year-old Bori drew this on his own today. Every kid’s scribbles are masterpieces to every mum’s eyes. Astig lang.” (He says this is Spongebob, 3-year-old Bori drew this on his own today. Every kid’s scribbles are masterpieces to every mum’s eyes. Just so cool.”)
So there, with those proud-mom captions, I took oath in helping him cultivate his artistic abilities.
However, little did I know that my motherly-oath was soon going to be weathered – immediately the next morning.
My husband and I were up for work early. For about half an hour or so, Bori got out of bed, peed and then bragged as usual about his heartaches of us having to leave him and to go to work. I then gave him just enough morning hugs and kisses to set his happy mood and then his grandparents come in to the rescue. It was our daily habit.
Just before leaving, I prepared my stuffs which I needed for my daily workout routine: big plain shirt, black leggings, charcoal socks, my GoGear mp3-player, other whatnots that I would rather not articulate, and then there’s Yellow.
Ah, my dear Yellow. Named after its color, Yellow is my new faithful neon running buddy. Yellow is a set of new (Nike Airmax) shoes that my dad got me last August during his vacation here in the country (thanks, pops!). I love it for the fact that it is my favorite color and serves my feet well too while running – hopefully for the whole year round. To sum it up, Yellow plays a significant role in my fitness lifestyle.
So, going back…
After a few seconds of having my improvised gym bag unattended, I turned back to notice that it was not in the same position as I left it. Yellow was out of the bag. Bori was beside it, giving me the look.
“Riooooo…!” I called him by his first name by which moms know by now what that means.
As I approached Yellow I wished to the stars that my intuitions weren’t true; but to my woe, they were.
Bori wrote on Yellow with deliberately mixed-up letters that spell his name. They were just too obvious not to be noticed especially that Yellow is neon-colored. Witnesses of the crime were my in-laws and other folks but were all too late to prevent what had happened. All I could picture in my mind at that moment was me running around/working out while being given curious and inquiring faces by random people. I so was furious under the neck. I wanted to yell at him so bad. I wanted to punish him for how badly he’s behaved and If it had not been that I kept my distance a few feet away from where he was, so help me I could’ve whacked his bottoms – but he was giving me the look – that tormenting “I’m just an overly curious kid, please don’t spank me” look. All I could do was give myself a double face palm.
I couldn’t forget the oath I made just the day before. I remembered pledging to myself that I would always support the promising little artist in him. So, I decided to put an end to my foreboding outrage with a big sigh and just hugged him as tight as I could.
The day I had to wear Yellow again after that incident, I really thought Bori’s scribbles were kind of cute and looked rather original; the scribbles were as if they have been tastefully situated, too. I wasn’t embarrassed to wear the shoes at all. It was indeed a masterpiece to my eyes and nothing could make me think otherwise. It was such a defining moment having to realize that I have kept my word as a mom not only because of my own efforts but also by Bori’s help. He helped me understand what this whole parenting thing is all about – being able to learn unspoken words and comprehend things out of love.
Being a parent isn’t easy with all the roller coaster of emotions that one has to regularly put up with. However, it also pays to be one because more often than not we get to surprise ourselves with genuine lessons from our kids who remind us of some things that we may have forgotten were important – that before we ever had the chance to speak we had to listen first, that sometimes we have to be the kid and they the teacher, that learning is timeless and knows no age, and that life’s greatest lessons could be learned from a childlike perspective.
I may neither be a full-time nor the best mom in the world but for the sake of my son whom I so love dearly with all my heart, I will always try to be the best person in his eyes – a Super Inay (Super Mom) – tested, tried and true to her word at any cost.