Showing posts with label independence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label independence. Show all posts

Saturday, June 22, 2013

Grow up with the kids


Kids grow up. It's inevitable. When they do, it is important that we should also grow up with the kids.

Easier said than done.

Since assuming the dual role of mother and father to my three kids, I've never been so conscious of being in control. I've always been a control freak, but unlike before where there was someone who was neutralizing me, I have to weigh everything by myself now.

I always wanted to spend time with the kids… and I was expecting the same from them. 

I wanted a solid family - intact, close-knitted, and always there for one another. I wanted to always see them together. 

There was no problem when they were still young where they cannot really go anywhere without me. But as they grew older, they learned to explore on their own… AND they needed to explore on their own.

Sunday, May 26, 2013

Letting go...


(Something I wrote back in the year 2000... an exaggerated anxiety over a very trivial matter. Read on.)


Do you know how a child feels when he let go of a balloon that he loves so much? Or how it feels when you set a bird free after you took care of it in its cage for so many years? Or letting your fish swim in the ocean after it has swam in your aquarium for so long?

That’s how I felt when I left my son this morning in school to join his classmates and teachers on their field... his FIRST field trip.

Of course, you might say that the metaphor wasn’t right because balloons, fishes and birds don’t come back, but my son will surely go home after the trip. Nonetheless, the feeling of fear and anxiety doesn’t differ... perhaps more intense.

Actually, this feeling isn’t really new to me. I felt the same way the first day I left my boy in school. I was able to survive that. What would make a difference now? I don’t know, but as I was walking away this morning, frequently looking back, I can’t help but worry.

Looking at him... so young... small... and fragile. After all, he is only eight years old, in the company of absolute strangers! Well, at least they are strangers to me.

The irony of it all is that my son doesn’t show any signs of fear or anxiety.