To my dearest Solana,
It’s not so much that I love being a mom. I am not one of those women who are hard wired
for motherhood. I am not, as you will
find out soon enough, nurturing or caring or whatever virtue is deemed ideal
for mothers. I’ve always wanted
children, true, but never in that aching, pining, or even determined way that
some women do.
When things started getting serious with your pop, I was
actually prepared for a lifetime of just the two of us. Your father was not a fan of having children
at all, and over the most nonsense reasons.
You can ask him about that one day.
And I was sorta okay with that.
Maybe we’ll just travel, I thought.
Or have 22 dogs or very time consuming hobbies.
But now we have you and the world is just better in all ways
possible.
We wake up to Christmas morning every day since you, to your
wide excited eyes and your beautiful smile. We are constantly surrounded by
magic when you’re around, nothing is ever just just, everything is always
WOW. We went to a children’s party a
month ago and as soon as the puppet show started, you were the only one on your feet, dancing, swirling, ecstatic in
your bubble of joy. And that’s how you are, puppet show or not, you
do not just sit, you dance.
I hope, with every bit of me, that you will never lose it, the
awe, the magic that you seem to see in everything. Or, at least, that you will never forget that
you are capable of this when your heart breaks, which it eventually will.
Can I also just say that, and this may sound cruel, I love
it when you’re angry. You are the most
madrama, manipulative little girl ever. EVAH.
Sometimes I bite my lip when I watch you fake-cry and beg to get what
you want so I don’t start laughing. “Mama pi, attide. I want attide,” you tell me when you want to
go outside. The moment I say no, you
throw yourself to the floor and “sob”.
When I finally say yes, you stop immediately, get up and smile. Or at times when I refuse, which I also do by
the way, and when you realize that I wont give in, you just stand right back up
and look for something else to do.
You are also the sweetest child on earth. Sometimes I catch you staring at me, so I
stare back, and then you break into a smile, hold my face with your teeny tiny
hands and kiss me.
Grabe.
Hindi. Ko. Kaya. Ang. Joy.
Love,
Mama
