The Poet, The Joker, The Smarty-Pants & The NatGeo Junky

5 years of joy

Being a mother to 5 years old boy surely has been interesting and fun so far.

My Boy The Poet

Who knew turning 5 will bring out the hidden poet inside my boy. Every night now before bed he would come up with the sweetest words when we cuddle that just makes my heart swollen with love.

I will give you a hundred, thousand, million hearts, Mommy

I love you so much, Mommy. Ever after!” add a big squishy hug and kisses then you can see me melting in those little hands.

First of all, I have no idea where he picked up the Ever After line. Could it be Happily Ever After? Doesn’t really matter where it came from does it?

Mommy, I love you to the stars of forever!

I swear sometimes he just sees right through me especially when I’m feeling rotten inside and with just a few lines and lots of kisses from him my boo-boo has been kissed.

Meet The Joker

Oh he can be quite a joker too and it goes something like this:

Boy: “I will give Mommy so much money.”

Mommy: “Aww…that’s very sweet of you but you don’t need to do that, okay?

Boy: “Yes, so Mommy can buy me lots of toys!

Not quite a poet there huh?

Meet Mr. Smarty-Pants

This conversation happened a couple of days ago:

Me: “Alex, it’s bed time.

Boy: “Ooh maan!

Me: “Don’t oh man me.”

Boy: “What is don’t oh man me, Mommy?

Me: “Don’t say oh man me to Mommy.”

He turned to the wall his back facing me then sighing loudly “Ooh maaaan!” then he turned around “See, Mommy I said it to the wall!

This is a piece of conversation we had last night – setting as usual before bed.

Me: “I love you, Pumpkin…

Boy: “Why do you call me Pumpkin, Mommy?”  (believe me I tried to stop calling him this!)

Me: “Because when you were a baby you were as cute as a little pumpkin.

Boy: “Oh, just like the pumpkin at the store!” (we went groceries shopping earlier and he actually asked if he could get a small pumpkin)

Me: “Yes, something like that.” Boy was silent so I proceeded “I love you, Baby

Boy: “Mommy, I am not a baby anymore!

Mommy: “Okay then, I love you Alexander!

The NatGeo Junky

A has been into NatGeo channel since before he turned 4 and this continues in his 5 years old stage. He loves Discovery Channels too and some Animal Planet which I’d rather let him watch than the Cartoon Network. (FYI, we don’t have Nick Jr. Channel here in Jakarta *insert sad face*)

Being 5 also opened up the door to a super curiosity level that sometimes Mommy just can’t keep up with all his questions.

He would ask so many questions that watching TV with him now is hard. I know, I know, I should be thankful that this boy is eager to learn, trying to understand how things work.  But man, sometimes I just want to watch TV quietly. Hah!

All in all, being 5 is pretty awesome.

If your child is 5 years old what changes do you see in them? Oh and how do you curb the “Whys, hows?” do you explain things thoroughly?

Thank Heaven For Little Boy

Sleeping Child

My dear dear boy,

Watching you sleep oh so peacefully tonight makes me heart swollen with a love that is bigger than anything I ever known.

I slowly touched your open hand and you clasp my finger tightly as tight as you hold my heart.

Your hair is getting longer and the curls starts to show up again. No matter how unruly they get and how much you hate when Mommy force you to brush those locks, I miss seeing their almost Sherly Temple lookalike curls.

Those legs no longer pack the once yummylicious baby lumps. They are now long, lean and skinny.

Your cheeks have no more chubbiness yet I can still bite on them playfully and kiss them a million times.

The way you say your “Night Night Prayer” out of memory always make me feel so grateful for this greatest gift in my life.

Your cheekiness always warms even the crappiest day of this mother’s day.  “Clown of the classroom” is what your teachers told me.  The classroom is too quiet without you they said.

Amazing how smart you really are behind all your goofing around – that sometimes frustrate me when we’re doing your homework. I’m biased of course and allowed to be since I am your mother!  You’d surprise me by reading “Ben” on TV while I sat there next to you trying so hard to make you read the 3 letters practice book from school.

Your abrupt out of nowhere “Aku sayang Mommy!” (I love Mommy) managed to wipe my tiredness away after a crazy day at the office.

The never ending curiosity you shows daily. From asking what a word means in English or in Indonesian to asking why an engine failed when we watch Air Crash Investigation show on NatGeo – to which I asked you to save that question for Daddy when you’re with him.

I know your questioning will only get longer as you get older and can I freak out now?

Oh what about the way you ‘attack’ Mommy because you want to play roughhousing or just want to tickle me then planted a big giant kiss? No matter how badly my bones are cracking I.love.it!

The concerned look on your face when I tell you Mommy’s not going to work followed by “Will your boss be angry, Mommy?” makes me want to squeeze you tightly so you don’t have to worry too much.

Behind your cheerful happy go lucky self I know there’s an old soul hidden. A soul that is very sensitive. How I wish I could take back that one time right after your Opa (Grandpa) just got home from the hospital and you were just trying to see him closely but your tired Mommy snapped at you panicking you would bump into his bandaged foot. To see you sat there on the stairs with tears silently running down your face broke my heart. You cried in Mommy’s arms and said “Nggak mau Opanya sakit!” (I don’t want Grandpa to be sick). Oh baby….I’m so sorry.

Your stubbornness is quite scary as I see so much of myself in you when that side appears.  Sometimes with raised eyebrows I’d asked you “Whose child is this, anyway?” and behind your little smirk you’d say “Anak Mommy!” (Mommy’s child).

I’m still amazed by how you laid out your own rules when it comes to the languages you speak. When you’re home with everyone else you demanded to only speak in Indonesian including to me but when we’re upstairs ready for bed you’d whisper “Mommy, when we’re in our room then we can talk in English.”

Yes, there are moments where you just drive your mother crazy but I think all mother feels that way, right?

Watching you growing up to be a little person that you are today never cease to amaze me. Thank you for showing your Mommy what true love really is all about.  Thank you for teaching me to relax and let loose and be silly, to live in the moment to stop worrying too much and just have faith.

I have so many wishes for you my son, it’s wrapped in prayers and being lifted to heaven.

Happy Birthday Alexander. Mommy love you to the moon and back!

Book of Memories

Lil' A & Elvis

Cried myself some happy tears today…

Three years ago between moving around between three countries, between trying to work on the marriage, between culture shocks of living in China and reverse culture shock of moving back to my home country…

Thought I had lost this book.

Until one hot Sunday afternoon while digging into boxes after boxes of my family stuffs I saw it…

It lays on the top shelf of my father’s bookcase, covered in dust from God only knows how long it’s been there for.

My heart beat faster as I wiped the dust off. Tracing the plastic covered front…

“Days of Discovery”

Winnie the Pooh and Piglet welcome my finger as I traced the cover.

A piece of glossy photo paper fell through as I opened the book.

It’s a boy!

A picture of you laying on your tummy with our beloved Elvis faithfully by your side just the way he used to watched you until his very last days.

A smile drew on my face as I read the words on your Birth Announcement/Thank You card.

As I flipped to the “A Very Grand Thing…Is About To Happen” pages my heart was swollen with love.

Reading through my cravings records, I smiled again remembering how your father had finally found some ‘spicy’ fried chicken at Church’s or how my friend in Las Vegas had to mail me some traditional Indonesian snacks.

Of how pre-natal classes were a no go because all classes were conflicted with your father’s work schedule and I couldn’t drive.

Gratitude flushes me over as memories of how a dear dear friend from Birmingham, AL had arranged my baby shower just to be forced to cancel it on last minute because I was hospitalized and were forced to stay in bed. They surprised me by coming all the way to Dothan and gave me the baby shower…that’s almost 200miles driving. These people hold special place in my heart.

Handwritten names of my Indonesian friends in Alabama who sent presents were written down on the book, even when they couldn’t make it. It was still one of the sweetest surprises I ever had.

6 pounds, 5 ounces and 20 inches long…

Your entrance was in such a little unexpected-mad-dash-way. Mentally, I wasn’t ready although my severe preeclampsia has been threatening since the 30th week. I never even know what contractions even feel like.

Reading through this book…

Seeing the missing spaces where I didn’t fill them out brought back the memories of those dark days where I didn’t feel like myself, where your cries made me cried too in frustrations, where I was overwhelmed with breastfeeding – pumping – breastfeeding to increased your weight (you were so tiny!), where I felt so alone, disconnected from everything, where darkness filled me.

The last thing I wrote in there was on the question “When YOU first slept through the NIGHT: Saturday night, February 24, 2007.”

Part of those early days, early months felt blurry as if my mind was in a haze. Yes, I remember the first time you coo beautifully, the first time you had your first meal of rice cereal, or the first time we took you to the beach on Memorial Day weekend.

My brain may fail to remember the day-to-day things we both did on your first year of life. Forgive me for that, my son.

This heart is swollen with so much love and gratefulness to have this precious piece of memories returned to me, my little keepsake.

With your 5th birthday coming up in two months it’s hard to believe you are no longer a baby.

Mommy love you Alexander…my precious Lil’ A.

More Than Skin Colors

oldy

Saw this great piece on Facebook today shared by Bicultural Mama and I was nodding and laughing my behind reading it and knew I MUST blog a more serious spin about the topic.

So here goes…

My son is a ‘product’ of mix marriage. His father – Mr. X is American and I am Indonesian.

A little history background, I’m ‘mixed’ too. Somewhere down the line from my father’s side of the family there was a hint of Dutch yet my father is Ambonese. My mother is Manadonese which means she has very light skins and sometimes people misjudged her as Chinese.

Their ‘products’ are three kids, two of them looks like white/half Caucasian and one of them well just have a dark skin. That dark skinned one would be me.

I remember my father told me the doctors didn’t even believe he is the father after my super ‘white’ brother was born. They had to put him under the UV lights right away because they thought he’s just too white! Go figure!

Here’s an old picture of my father holding my brother. No wonder people used to doubt he is the father! Psst, yes, that was me in my father’s truck.

 

Being the ‘different’ one in the family growing up most people got surprised that the three of us, my brothers and I are related. We used to get teased. We’ve heard it all.

My favorite ‘incident’ was when I was living in this rental ‘boarding house’ with my brother. He just started college in Jakarta and we rented two different rooms in a boarding house. One night, just recently after we moved in, I took him to Hardrock Café with my girlfriend. On our way home back to the house we had to walk in this small alley big enough for just a motorcycle to fit. The next day, we got a report from the housekeeper that one of the neighbors had called our landlord and reported “Hey, that new girl is bringing home a bule* last night!”. We didn’t get in trouble but it was hilarious!

Since I became a mother I has never been more uncomfortable than moving back here. Back in the States even when we were living in a small itty bitty town of Alabama, no one had said any weird comments about Lil’ A. If anything, people told me he’s adorable and most mistakenly thought he’s a girl – thus the abuse of the color blue by me!

My first encounter with unpleasant comments was when I first came home to introduce my then 10 months old baby to my big Indonesian family. At the time my parents were still living in East Borneo a town called Balikpapan. We then flew to Makassar, South Sulawesi to let my Grandmother met Lil’ A.

After we deplaned, we had to take a bus into the airport’s terminal. I was sitting right next to my mother, Lil’ A on my lap, my youngest brother, Danny was to my right. An older lady right in front of my mother smiled, obviously staring at Lil’ A.

Is that your grandson?” the lady said. My mother, the proud grandmother said yes and smiled broadly.  “Yes, that’s his mother” she placed her arm on my shoulder.

Oooh…is that the father?” pointing at my brother who yes, often mistakenly thought as Caucasian. Huh?

That ‘incident’ got all of us laughing but believe me I’ve been on the receiving end of some really annoying inappropriate questions from strangers. From asking if I’m the nanny to saying “He’s so cute, too bad his nose looks just like yours!” S’cuse me? Among other nuisance questionings.

I think Lil’ A looks more like me than anything but of course I am biased! Hopefully he won’t have too much of a hard time growing up in Jakarta being a mix product and NO I do not wish he would throw himself to these whole ‘mixed races bunch of artists’ trend in Jakarta. If that’s what he really wants then we’ll deal with that when he’s 18!

What’s the most annoying remarks people give you if you have a mixed race children? Do share the silliest comment people make about your children.

 

*Bule = Indonesian slang for caucasian

We Are Enough

We Are Enough

Last week was rough.

Partially I’m blaming aunt-you-know-who to bring all these emotional trolls came crawling out of my brain.

I was sullen and my moods were ugly.

Dealing with a Kindergarten boy who is NOT a morning person is not easy – to put it mildly. It’s a daily battle to get him up and ready for school every day. When I’m working I was ‘spared’ from this tug of war as I leave the house very early. My patience is being tested daily! He is just not a morning person and I know it.

Until a few days ago when the boy got home from school, tired and wanted to go to bed and lay down. He said something that felt like a kick.

Mbak is Mommy. I want Mbak! I don’t love Mommy!

Ouchy!

I know he doesn’t mean to hurt me but it did. I refused to let the nanny took over and stood my ground. Meaning I proceeded upstairs with him despite his protests and told him “Even if you don’t love Mommy right now, Mommy loves you more than anyone else.

He eventually said “I’m sorry, Mommy. I love you” and gave me the biggest hugs his body can master. It healed my heart instantly!

But it left me wondering, doubting…it brought me to tears.

Yes, I am not the perfect mother. For almost a year now since I’ve been back to the corporate world, I work long hours but secretly I am happy albeit the famous-working-mom-guilt’s! Being productive outside the house makes me feels good inside.

Yes, I am the strict mom. I put him on timeouts. I yelled – a little too much sometimes and I don’t let him get away with things as much as his spoiling grandmother does. Maybe in his eyes I’m not a fun Mommy, I’m the stern Mommy. He has more fun when he’s with Daddy.

Yes, I am not those moms who packed him bento boxes snacks/lunch nor do I bake the perfect cute cupcakes but I do try to help him with his homework and read to him every day and we still have our bedtime ritual. Just us two.

But I still feel crappy inside…

These thoughts were chewing me inside. He loves having his Mommy home and even said “I want Mommy here when I wake up in the mornings” and by God it feels so damn good to wake up with him in the mornings and have him threw his arms around me and cuddle closer. Going back to work would be hard for both of us.

The guilt transcended deeper than this silly jealousy of his Nanny. I realized I still blamed myself for ending my marriage and split the perfect little world as he knew it and in trying so hard to patch things up, to rebuild a life for ourselves I always felt like I fall short. That I am not good enough mother for him.

Until I saw my boy cuddling up to one of his uncles the other day…

It hits me that I may not be the perfect Mommy but this boy is surrounded with love. His uncles adore and love him tremendously. They give him the much needed roughhousing, the male bonding stuffs. His grandparents love him to pieces – ok maybe grandma dotted on him too much – we’re still trying to strike a balance here.  His Nanny loves him and takes good care of him. His father is in his life and loves him just as much.

I am his mother…with all my flawlessness. I am good enough mother who will fight for him and break my back to give him the good life that he deserves to have. It may not be the fancy life lane that we are both living on but we have enough. He doesn’t have to go to bed on an empty stomach and he have clothes on his back – it may not be the expensive branded stuffs – but we are living enough. One day I hope he can look at his mommy and be proud of all the things she’s trying to do to be good enough and realized that we are good enough.

This post is inspired by Just Be Enough. Seriously, JBE is a truly amazing, inspiring place. My Mondays has never been better thanks to JBE!

And We Are Free

autism and surrealism
Creative Commons License photo credit: panic switch 13

I thought that day will never come…

Seriously, I had vented out about it last year. I bribed, I begged, I yelled, I came to a near mental breakdown, I blamed myself…

Lil’ A has managed potty (read: peeing) so well since he’s around 2 years old. Before he turned 3 years old, he can do it himself and proud at it. BUT there’s one deep dark secret that was somewhat embarrassing…for number 2! Gasp!

For some unknown reasons he refused to sit and go potty. He became attached to his pull-ups which he only wore when he have to go poo-poo. I had bought God only knows how many potty training aids to help him fight off whatever it is that scared the bejeesuz out of him. Read the second line please! He would threw the biggest fit ever if I say NO when he asked to put it on and to be honest it was driving both of us crazy so I finally threw my hands in the air and let him be but one thing I demanded was he stays in the bathroom while doing his ‘business’.

This went on for months. It caused huge fights between Mr. X and I because he said I am not being consistent with training him. Well, dude…I usually only met our son for a few hours a day because of my work! To fight him constantly would only drive both of us mad and I was too tired for that. I didn’t push him! He went on to blame the nanny – even telling me I should fire her behind because she’s not helping. Can I insert WTF here? Yeah, there you go!

Seriously…I know it was bad and I too was starting to worry that I am losing this tug-of-war and with him already in school – I was sure he would be in pull-ups to poop for the rest of his life! I was worrying he would be in adult diaper because he had maxed the largest pull-ups size they have available here (XXL!) But my exhausted self – mind you I used to work long hours but now currently on a month long break from work – just was too tired to keep fighting.

Then one day…

Mommy, I want to go poo-poo in the toilet like a big boy.” He walked casually into the bathroom, picked up his Mickey Mouse themed toilet seat and handed it to me.

In that moment, I felt like the sky opened up and angels sang! Did you know I feel like I could kiss the bathroom floor and wail HALLELUJAH?!!

Ever since that day 3 weeks ago he has been completely pull-up free. No more tears. No more fighting. No more begging – from his Mommy’s part. He did it all himself. He said “I’m a big boy. Pull-ups are for babies!” Oh be still my heart!

So I guess by letting it go, by not pushing him and letting him take the lead and keep telling him there is nothing to fear from sitting on the toilet made him took the wheel himself and decided he had enough.

Now that we are completely free from pull-ups I see him differently…he’s no longer my Lil’ A…he is blossoming before my very eyes…but I know in my heart he will always be my baby.

Did you ever had potty training nightmare? How did you handle it?