When you intentionally make time to be with your child, or when you actively listen to them and observe them in their quiet reflections, a magical moment is guaranteed.
Our previous week was filled with these, so after coming from last week’s heavy column on bullying, we will share some light and comic anecdotes today.
Oh my funny daughter!
Two Sundays ago, we discovered that our family is expecting a new baby! My sister-in-law who gave birth eight months ago is now on her first trimester with her second child.
And little curious Amanda, who you all know we call Gummy, seemed very quiet on our car ride home. She was deep in thought.
“Hey, what are you thinking?” I asked to open a conversation.
With a puzzled face, she asked, “Mum, I don’t understand. How come Tita Asia just gave birth to Kushie and now there is a baby again in her tummy? I don’t get it Mum! I’m confused!”
I could not help but burst into laughter. After recovering, I said a silent prayer, asking for wisdom when I respond to her.
“Why are you confused? Tita Asia has a partner, Daddy Anjo so they can make babies,” I replied, trying to convince her.
I let the information sink in before adding, “That’s why you continue praying fervently for Mummy’s best partner so that I can make you a baby brother and sister. Because until then, no siblings for you.When I have a partner, it’s already easy to make them,” I finally said in jest, half meant, of course.
* * *
On Thursday afternoon, we were sorting generic presents we shopped for her classmates and friends—pouches with comb-and-clip sets for the girls and socks for boys.
Remember the bully classmate? Of course she was still on Gummy’s list, and I was keenly observing which gift she will choose for her.
There were shimmering purses in bright fuchsia pink, metallic purple, glittery gold and jellybean. But in our loot, there was an odd one out, a plain gray one, which is admittedly a sad gift to receive in my opinion.
When I asked Gummy to choose, she zoomed in on that plain one. But after going through her list, she froze for about five second before looking up and saying, “Mum, I think I will change her gift.”
She explained why, “I think it will be so sad that after being so excited tearing the wrapper of her present, she will find such a sad dull and boring gift inside. I don’t think receiving this will make her smile. So I will change it to the brighter pink.” She didn’t even say anything about what this girl did to her anymore.
I smiled silently and thought to myself how amazing it is that children are so forgiving, how they do not easily harbor resentment and bitterness against another. My child’s heart is so pure, that she has not only forgiven but also “forgotten” the offense (Psalm 103:12). And such is Christ’s forgiveness. I praise God for allowing me to witness this moment and see my child’s heart.
* * *
Two nights ago, when she was already in bed, Gummy asked me again for the nth time if she can wear rubber shoes with her polo and skirt uniform. I will always say no because I want her to observe proper regulation; that is black shoes with the ensemble. I don’t want her to copy others and do something just because she’s following her classmates.
But that night she finally justified her case.
“Mum kasi it’s hard to run with black shoes,” she defended.
“Why will you run in black shoes? I have told you that running is bad when you are not in the gym or the field because you might bump someone or something. I don’t want you to get hurt or hurt anyone. You only wear rubber shoes for PE because you are really allowed to run,” I answered back.
“No Mum, at the NextGen lobby [where the kids stay after class before being picked up], whenever we play tag and I run with black shoes, they always fly from my feet and of course I have to get my shoes, so I get tagged right away because I stopped running,” she retaliated.
That answer got my 100-percent approval! Thereafter, we agreed that every Thursday she is allowed to wear rubber shoes.
Moral of the story mummies, listen to your kids and learn to accept defeat sometimes. Being a parent never meant being right all the time.