My Sons Are Driving, and I'm Getting Old! 😱

I guess I've been stuck for a long time at the age when I would sit behind the wheels and drive my kids to school, to the dentist, to the music lessons, to the prom. I've gotten used to being in command of the car, driving carefully because with me are my precious jewels. And despite the fact that I've seen these jewels grow up into young adults, for all this time a big part of me still looked at them as that: growing young adults that needed mama to drive for them.

The realization that these jewels of mine who are now young adults who are slowly getting into the process of adulthood are driving now is presently giving me the culture shock of some sort. You'd probably ask, "So what's the big deal? It's no big deal, everybody in town is learning how to drive." But no, it's a big deal for me. Because I am moved. Because it's a sign of change. Because it's a sign of adulthood. Of them slipping away from your fingers. Of them having their own wings to fly. Of maturity. Of responsibility. And of me growing old, ugh! :-)

Moving into the big city means moving the car into it as well, along with most of our belongings. Of course, these young adults whose minds are very open to learning all sorts of adult stuff would never let the car sit idly in the basement car park. Now they hold the car keys and are being very resourceful about learning how to drive it. My youngest, who's still eighteen, still has to learn, still has to take lessons, so he hasn't dared to get behind the wheels...yet. My eldest already knows how to drive before we came here. After a couple of incidents with the car painting its color on the surface of the garage posts, this kid was raring to take the car beyond the pineapple fields. My second commissioned a friend to teach him how to drive after school, sometimes late into the evening, and would come home exhilarated because he was able to take the car along a major highway. There are nights they would sneak out to try other roads, and I'm left seriously praying for their safety. Yeah, really, it's one of those moments I could write down as my Conversations With God.

Now being just their passenger, who becomes a total mess in the passenger seat (yeah, back in the small city I was a good driver but always a bad passenger, especially when seated up in the front), I admit I become a source of their stress as much as they are the source of my stress. That makes us even, haha! Anyway, here, my right foot secretly automatically steps on an invisible break pedal each time I feel that my son the driver is being a bit unguarded, or that the other drivers are being inconsiderately reckless. At the same time, I just can't prevent myself--whole body and all--from being tensed, with my back pressed hard against the seat. You just can't imagine how my adrenaline is pumping such that when we get home, sleep eludes me well into the morning.

It takes a lot not to show how scared I am. I try so hard to reign in my fears because it affects especially my eldest, but sometimes it slips with sucked breaths and oops, uups, iiihhhh, and sudden gestures that they find truly annoying. Hehe, sorry for that. I'm still learning in that department. I have to. I have to show my sons that I have faith in them. For if I didn't, however else are they going to have confidence? Well, again, all through this time I ask God to keep us out of harm's way and guide my son and the other drivers as well. But credit to my boys, I am amazed at their judgment on the road, and their courage, and their desire to master driving.

Driving is an essential skill these days, and my sons are too old for Mama to be driving around for them. And Mama is too scared to be driving in the big city for now. So yes, someone has to learn how to drive. Someone has to be confident to ride with me for when I get the courage to try driving in the big city. I haven't driven in about a year. except for when I went back in the small city for my mother's funeral.

As of this writing, I'm trying to unnerve myself by writing this...while waiting in the car for my son to finish his driving tests and secure his license. Later on our way back home, well, you know how the story will go. :-)

Keep Her There

So this is what it's like to lose a parent, a mother.  Out of the blue sad tears flow incessantly because in your heart you long for  her presence, to hear her voice.  You see her in the crowd.  You feel her in your solitude.  You call out to her in your dreams.  You want to feel her in the air.  You want to see her amongst the stars. 

 No matter what had transpired between the two of you, you feel twice detached from the umbilical cord, orphaned.  One will  never know the longing that can be this deep, unfathomable, unexplainable, unless one experiences it.  One can drown in it unless one is strong enough to swim out of it.  No wonder people die of melancholy, or simply lose their marbles.  

Why you feel so helpless at her own helplessness, why you feel angered by the situation that put her there,  why you feel angry at her for letting this happen, why you feel upset because you know she didn't want to be in that shoe, why you are angry at yourself because you cannot give back life to her who gave you one, why you question Him for calling her too soon...

You wonder how time flies so fast, taking you farther away from the day she went away. Farther away from the memories...you close your eyes too tight because that's the only way to hold on to the images of her, of the time she was still there. Of the times when she was your villain.  Of the times when she was your mother.  

They say you never cease to grieve, you only learn to live with it.  You close your eyes, you touch your heart, there is that void where she had been...there is that void that tells you to always keep her there.

Tribute to a mother: Maria Carmen (July 3, 1944-June 7, 2014)

5s-ing Your Way To A More Relaxed Mommy Life

Originating from Japan where people are known to exercise rigid discipline and fastidiousness, the 5s principle has gained a widespread following especially in the corporate world.  But one can actually adopt the concept on a more personal level.

The 5s principle advocates more productivity, good quality, and an improved state of being when followed. When one's environment is in shipshape condition, one is relaxed and in pretty good disposition, and is able to think and act efficiently.   Personally, that's what I feel. When there's clutter everywhere, I feel so caved in, couldn't think straight, and unable to start anything.  I feel there's a lot of setback in my life and I need to stop the clock for the meantime, while I clean up.

The five esses stand for the Japanese terms seiri, seiton, seiso, seiketsu, and shitsuke.   All these terms put together means everything should be visually easy--nothing out of place, everything handy at a glance. Order and convenience working together.  Doesn't sound so easy, right?

Seiri is roughly translated in English as "sort". True enough, the first thing to do when you're cleaning up is to go through your things and check which ones are useful and which are not, which ones are yours and which are not.  Which tasks need immediate attention and which could be put on hold for at least a while.  Ergo, segregate. Yes, mommy, throw it away if you don't need it.  Aah, that's difficult.  We tend to hold on to things that have sentimental values, or practical values (things that "may come handy in the future").

Seiton, in English, is "set in order".  After sorting, we put things in easily-recognizable containers in easily-reachable areas.  Sometimes we tend to forget where we put things once we've cleaned up. When time comes that we need some stuff we could no longer remember where we've stashed them.  Putting like things in a container just isn't enough. So, labels would be most helpful, especially when we're getting into THAT stage, if you know what I mean.

Next is seiso, which means "sweep, shine, scrub" or any such term that would mean one removes dirt or anything that is considered as junk, trash, garbage, etc. In big organizations, seiso would mean a systematic clean-up. On a more personal level, we can just sum it up as "clean as you go", especially in the kitchen.

Down the line is the term seiketsu, which means standardize. Others say it also means simplify. Now, that's a tough one, because mommies have great tendencies to be lenient or inconsistent especially when matters appeal to the heart. And when the heart is concerned, everything becomes complicated. Well, it takes conviction setting standards, so mommies, when something doesn't belong, haven't been used, is not going to be used anywhere near the present, it's probably best disposed of. And if something doesn't meet our liking, then it's probably substandard, be it service or product. And if...oh, if...what if...

Finally, we have the shitsuke, which means "sustain", or "make it a habit."  This one, too, looks so not easy.   But you know, Rome wasn't built in a day. It might take  a while getting inured to the 5s method, but self-discipline will definitely see us through. Well, this isn't new to us, mommies, we've got habits established...I just don't know if they're the right ones.  If they aren't, then try to break them even if old habits are hard to break.  Just let's begin with one small step, and never stop.  So, 5s, anyone?#

My Theatrical Three

It has been a custom in the school where all my three sons went that the juniors present a play as a requirement in their Speech class. The annual play is a collaboration between the teacher and the students. In every year that I watch (I don't watch every year), the juniors never fail to amaze me. Well, largely because I see before me the full-blossoming of adolescents that I had seen as toddlers. I could only shake my head in disbelief. No wonder I have white hairs on my temples. How time flies!

The amazement is greater when my sons come out of stage to play their part. Each realization of how big they've grown is like a bombshell that both elates and frightens me.

Elated... that my kids have become...modesty aside... the well-behaved, talented, smart and handsome young gentlemen that they are. I feel so proud of them, because despite the emotional roller coasters that they must go through in the various phases of growing up, they have made a breakthrough.

Frightened...that they no longer need my maternal fussing, as a lot of times they put up the "keep off the grass" kinesics.

But generally, proud...so proud...that they are able to pull it off the way they did...on their own.

My eldest, being the behind-the-scene type of person, had a minor part in the acting department in his junior play, Barefoot In The Park. He happily took the part of an illegal DVD vendor who popped into the scene with a handful of CDs and DVDs, calling out to pedestrians to buy from him. Just like the way real vendors do, intonation and all. Few lines, but his full effort was poured into the pre-staging and the backstage affairs.

My second, he played Captain Sparrow, and how! In this play, Pirates of the Caribbean, he effectively aped Johnny Depp's slur and swagger. And he threw his lines and fingers like the Depp, too! He was great. The whole class did great; the props were great, too! It was a production worth watching more than a couple of times. Sadly, they did only a couple of shows. More schools should have seen it.

And just recently, my third, he played Captain von Trapp. He was effective as an uptight retired military man in The Sound Of Music. Before the show I was anxious because my son has smiling eyes; they sparkle when he's not angry. I was a bit worried about how he's gonna deal with that. But then, seeing him up on the stage, well, his eyes were fierce when they should be, and his eyes sparkled at the soft moments. He was also careful to give just a hint of a smile at the most kilig moments too.

After each annual play I notice something different in each of my sons. There is a new confidence evident in their mien, and that's something I really love to see in them. Kudos to their teachers, I appreciate them a lot, and grateful to them that my three sons were able to experience this kind of thing. And to allow us to see this side of these children, some talent, that we won't normally see in our household because the boys tend to hide it.

Now that everybody has passed this stage, I feel like saying to my three musketeers: ENCORE!

MOM ME, SOME TEN YEARS AFTER

Mom Me

My children have long since grown from cute babies to cute teenagers.  I would have written entries after entries of those sweet days bringing them up as infants and toddlers, and now teens, but I didn't.  I feel sorry that I hadn't been able to, because my kids were each a wonder when they were growing up and reaching milestones in their developments as human beings.  Oh, all the firsts were such wonders that made my heart skip a beat each time and wish I could keep those moments forever.

If you are an expectant mother, or a young mom with a first baby, you might wanna take this advice.  Take time to write about those wonderful times, milestones, etc. Believe me, we all reach a point in our life when we begin looking back and missing those infant cries, innocent laughters, big round eyes, tiny arms that cling tightly around our necks, tiny bodies that fit perfectly right into our laps and our embraces, those butterfly kisses that land on our cheeks and sometimes on our lips.  There will come a time when we would so wish we could go back in time...into that time...when our kids were babies, and the world was much, much simpler...despite sleepless nights and tiresome days. 


Take lots of pictures, for we get to miss what they used to look  like.  Candid shots...taken during sleeping time, play time, school time, bath time...ups, but be careful about exposing what's supposed to stay unexposed--we don't wanna embarrass them like that in the future.

Take pictures. Create mementos. Preserve them.  And when they have grown and flown the coop, those albums and memorabilia are gonna make great company.

I am now in such stage of life when I feel like reconstructing those good old days...because I miss my babies so. I hope my aging memory wouldn't fail me, but rather, give me back those times, albeit sporadically.  And I shall try to put them into words as best as I could.  I know in my heart this is what will help me keep going in the next half of my journey.