Mommy Thoughts

I have just finished helping my son pack for a religious retreat that he and his other batch mates are required to attend from tomorrow until Wednesday (March 7-9, 2016).  This is the first time he's going to be sleeping so far away from home without me or without his dad.  The retreat is going to be held in Baguio, some six hour drive away from Manila and I'm now having separation anxiety.  I wonder how my parents dealt with the same thing when I was studying and had to go on a retreat back when there were no cellphones and being away from home meant no communication til you got back.  I pity them for what they had to go through because now I know the feeling of constantly worrying for your child.

It seems just like yesterday when I had to keep my eye on him all the time, so much so that I even brought him with me to the bathroom whenever I took a bath, or answered the call of nature.

I miss that little boy.  I miss holding his chubby little hands and kissing his chubby cheeks.  I miss those days he stopped in the middle of play just to give me a kiss or a hug.  

Tomorrow, he will have his first taste of freedom.  In just a couple of years, he will be in college, and after that he will be working, he will have his own family, a life of his own.  But he will always be my little boy, my Tootsieroll.

Last Wednesday, the high school clubs had their culminating activity.  I had a big problem because the grade school students were not invited to watch the show and that meant I had to be in class while my son was performing in the show. I expressed my problem to a co-teacher of mine who I hoped would be able to understand because she had small kids of her own.  However, she didn't.  She reasoned that my son was in high school (as if only moms of little kids had the right to be a stage mom) "High School na yun." and that I could just ask someone to record the show for me. She didn't understand that my son being in high school didn't make me love him any less, didn't make me feel less proud of him.  No matter how old my son gets I will always be a stage mom.  No matter how old he gets, I will always give him the moral support that he needs.   Because my love and my presence are the best gifts I can ever give him.   

a pic I took of him in a restaurant while he wasn't looking 

I eventually was able to swap class schedules with other teachers and sat with the other proud parents. But I don't think there was a parent prouder than I.  Aside from playing my favorite Canon in D with the other instrumentalists of the Music Club, my son had a special performance.  He played Justin Bieber's Love Yourself on the violin (just like other pop songs that he plays on the violin, he learned the notes just by listening to the song and playing  the music without reading any notes)  Some  students were shouting his name before he started playing and they sang along as he played.  As usual, he played superbly (allow me to brag) and it was all I could do not to stand from my seat and announce to everyone, "That's my son!"

So maybe if my co-teacher had seen him on stage, she would have understood why I wanted to be there. But as it is, she might not understand until her own kids are all grown.

Mom will always be moms, no matter how many years pass.  Manuel will always be my Tootsieroll, my little boy, my baby.  I thank God for this wonderful and beautiful gift that is my son and I thank Him for all the joys that motherhood brings. 

And now, I sleep hoping that March 9 would come at once so that I can be with my son once again.

May God bless my son and his batch mates with a successful, grace-filled retreat and keep them safe from harm. AMEN.