Counting my blessings instead of Sheep

Today, like most days, I was asked the same question ” Is he your only one?”.  Followed by “Planning to have anymore?”  Then, this is followed by more questions and then the dreaded unsolicited advice and then what I hate the most, the pity.  Like most days, I smile and politely reply ” Yes… just one… for now”. Then it turns into a conversation that’s both uncomfortable and annoying. But, what I really want to say is, “Mind your own effing business!”  Well, something to that effect at least.

Today, I finally said what I think my heart has been trying to say for the longest time.  There was no hidden yearning.  And there was no guilt. I’m happy. I’m content. Having him is a blessing in itself and I don’t need anyone to tell me otherwise. It’s liberating to say  “Yes, he is my only one.  And he is more than I’ll ever need”.

I love you because…

Eight

He’s 8 years old and I still can’t believe it!

He’s taller, a little heavier. He’s able to participate in communion. He’s losing his baby teeth and growing some that will require braces. He blushes when I mention the name of his favorite girl classmate. I can go on and tell more because he continues to amaze me each day with his sweetness, his charm, his intelligence and wit, his honesty (more like frankness) and especially his sense of humor.

He’s not a perfect kid. There are days when he can drive me crazy,too. Sometimes he can be a brat. Sometimes he can be rambunctious. But, he’s a boy and he does what boys usually do.

He is my little Picasso, my little Beethoven, my little biologist, my little paleontologist and sometimes my little know-it-all. He’s my Tomzilla. He may not be perfect but he’s perfectly alright to me.

Teacher’s Pet

Backpack $15.99
School Uniform &Supplies $ 157.00
Catholic Education $$

My 3rd grader telling me that I’ll always be his favorite teacher… Priceless

What ever happened to Summer?

This morning, before I left for work, I reminded my son that tomorrow he goes back to school. Tomorrow marks the begining of a new school year. Tomorrow he becomes a 3rd grader. Then during my morning commute to work I realized that summer is over.  Summer is over! Then I asked myself, what did we do this summer? My heart sank as I tried to recall this summer’s activities because it’s just one big blurr. Then the guilt just knocked me off my feet. If I can’t remember what we did this summer, does that mean I wasted time? Did that also mean I robbed my son, my only child, a piece of his childhood. I know I sound melodramatic but I can’t help it. I honestly feel like I failed him. Whenever people ask me how old my son is, they always say, “oh, that’s a fun age! Make the most out of it because they grow up fast!” So today, I was at work with this big dark cloud above my head all day because I failed to make this summer a memorable one.

My fondest childhood memories center on the holidays and summer vacation. So it’s not surprising if I want to create the same for my son. I’m usually good at planning activities or family outings but it seems like this summer came by unplanned. Granted I have a big family vacation planned in months to come, this summer was consumed by work or should I say denied time-off requests and scheduling conflicts between my work and Tim’s.

At bedtime, I asked him if he was ready for school. And ofcourse he said yes. And almost apologetic, I asked him if he enjoyed his summer vacation. 

Tommy: Yes Mama, I enjoyed my rest and relaxation! This was the best summer ever!

Me: Really? So what did you like about this summer?

Tommy: What’s not to like? We went bike riding, we went hiking, we went to the beach….(and he went on and on)

I was so relieved to hear him recall the things we did this summer. The weekend activities that seemed mundane to me meant a lot to him. So maybe I was being too hard on myself. Maybe I was expecting too much. But, can you blame me for wanting more for him? I only have one child, if I can’t get this right, what kind of a mother am I?

If the shoe fits?

I went to Marshall’s to make a return but who goes to Marshall’s without checking the latest stock? I was surprised to find Dansko but not surprised that they’d have this style instead of the ones I normally wear.

Tommy: Are you sure you want to keep that?

Me: Yes, I’m sure. It’s fun! It’ll make my scrubs less ugly.

Tommy: So you’re willing to wear something that required an innocent animal’s life just to make your scrubs look less ugly?

Me: it’s not real animal skin, it’s patent leather!

Tommy: That’s just like saying it’s ok to wear fur or tolerate animal cruelty. When you bought that shoe it’s just like buying tickets to watch the circus

Me: I don’t get it.

Tommy: (Long Pause) I don’t get it either. I don’t know what got over me. I’m sorry Mama.

Me: So, do you like my new shoes?

Tommy: Do you really want to know?

Goodbye Friendster, Hello WordPress!

After numerous invites from my sister and brothers to join Facebook, I finally agreed. At that time I had a Friendster account. Yes, Friendster and not MySpace. And don’t even ask me why I chose Friendster over MySpace. Anyway, with Friendster, I also had a blog. A blog that started out as my escape. My way to rant and complain on how motherhood is difficult and  it’s not really all peachy. After a few posts I began to sing a different song. And I’m glad I did.

After over a year with Facebook, Friendster has been neglected and so was the blog. But, if I cancel, that meant losing all my posts. I’m glad I learned about WordPress. Now, I can cancel Friendster and hopefully keep this blog up to date since this also has an App.

Finally, before I end this post, I’d like to thank Mommy AT. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have learned about moving.

Another year and not just another birthday

I never thought that getting here will be easy but I’m glad I’ve come this far. Amidst the daily frenzy, the battles, the failures and the triumphs, I can’t really say I know what being 35 really means or what it’s supposed to mean for that matter. The one thing I am sure of is that I am heading towards that proverbial hill. Whether I’m going over, under or around that hill, it doesn’t really matter. The hill isn’t going anywhere so might as well deal with it and try to be as creative as possible. Am I afraid of it? Of course I am! I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. But I think I’ve prepared myself enough not to be bullied or overwhelmed by it.

 

I believe that happiness is a process. It’s a journey and not a destination. I may still have little wishes, big dreams and silent yearnings and whether or not they are granted and fulfilled it shouldn’t have any bearing on my happiness meter. I’m surrounded by wonderful family and friends, so I’m pretty sure I’ll do just fine, if I get lucky I can even do great!

 

As I continue to travel this road we all call life, all I ask is this…that I can truly say that I had a blast getting to my final destination. I want to be able to say that I fulfilled my purpose as a mother, a wife, a daughter, sister, aunt, and a friend. And along my travels, I hope I have touched someone and made them smile. If I made them laugh, then that’s a bonus!

 

My hereditary risk factors aside, I am looking forward to the next 10, 20, 30 and God-willing even 40 years ahead.

 

Reflecting on “Snack Time”

One Sunday morning, in the summer of 2006, he referred to the Holy Eucharist as snack time in church. He was 3 years old then. Today, he understands the true meaning and importance of Holy Communion. In fact, on his first day of school, when I asked him what he was looking forward to in second grade, he said

“Second grade is going to be awesome! This year I will receive the body of Christ! “

Tomorrow, he will partake in the celebration of the Eucharist. He has been looking forward to this all year long and he is very thankful that he will be receiving this special gift.

One Singular Sensation

I am truly happy and content with my “one singular sensation”. If it’s my destiny to have another one, then it will happen. If not, then perhaps this is it for me. Others may think I’m lacking the experience of what motherhood is all about and that I’m not really experiencing motherhood full throttle because I have a singleton. All I can say is, God Bless You! If it makes them happy to think they’re better than me then good, whatever floats their boat, right?

The myths and the stereotypes don’t bring the only child or their parents down. In fact, it makes them strive to break away from it all. The truth of the matter is, no matter what the choices we make in life, there will always be Pros and Cons. And sometimes, there aren’t any choices. You deal with it and make the most of what is given to you.

Personally, I know that it takes more than looking down on others or passing judgment to make me confident and secure. As long as my sinlgeton is happy and content. For as long as he is thriving. I know I’m doing my job. I’m fulfilling my obligation. I’m fulfilling my purpose. And nobody can tell me otherwise.