Dear Peanut,
Your mother is having a Sharon Cuneta moment. Damn that new ice cream commercial, the song’s been stuck in my head since last week. But more than the song and Sharon Cuneta’s kurot-sa-puso rendition, these lines struck me the most…
“You've got to let go a little
And feel the joy come in little by little”
These past few days, I’ve noticed how your father and I have started to—little by little—let go of several “training wheels.” I remember this one time when I asked your father why you seem to be happier whenever you’re with him that when you’re with me, your Daddy said, “Hindi mo kasi siya pinapabayaan maging malaya.” Seriously, verbatim.
And then I realized that whenever you’re with me, I make you sit the right way; I make you hold your books the right way; I help you stand the right way. I set a safe perimeter and that’s only where you can roam around. Whereas when it’s Daddy-and-Peanut time, I see you sprawled on the bed like drunken sonsofbitches—books, lotion, diaper cream, used shower towel (still wet) on the bed, and you’re either watching skateboarding videos on the smartphone or ignoring each other.
But your Daddy’s right—you are more “free” when you’re with him. While there is still a safe perimeter set, you’re free to go rogue. I guess it’s a Mommy / Daddy thing.
So when I first heard the song, I thought about that real hard.
These past two weeks, we’ve seen like the biggest and most recognizable growth spurt so far at #11MonthsOld. Even your new AteDy mentioned that your face changed a bit—less fluffy, less baby, more toddler-y—and you’ve become more active. And just this afternoon, when you and AteDy were hanging out in the balcony and I’m fixing something near the windows, I saw, for the first time, how much your face has changed. You still look stupid, sometimes (I say that with love, #DontMe) but your features are taking on a more structured, chiseled (even) look—more and more like your Aladdin-look-alike daddy.
I’ve also started letting go of the “training wheels”, little by little. I started to trust you more when you’re crawling, sitting up, standing up, and trying to stand up for long stretches of time without support. I let you crawl under the table and make like a dog while Daddy’s having dinner (it’s become a thing now, really). I trust that you won’t fall face flat…I mean, of course, I’m still terrified, but unlike before, I learned how to give that still-protective distance/allowance.
I’ve learned how to trust you with more and more people now. I also lightened up on my stiff ways like the do’s and don’ts with you. Before, I was just really, really scared because you’re so tiny, so vulnerable. Now that you’re bigger, almost-a-year old, and you hit and kick like a !@#$%^&*, I trust that you’re stronger, braver.
So in order for you to learn and master new skills, I need to let go a little. And whenever you manage to learn something new, you look at me as if to seek approval. Just like that, the joys come little by little. :)
Love,
