Meme Monday

I saw this Mommy Meme at Pam's and thought to give it a go.

Baby's Name?
Matt

Male/Female?
Male

Birthday?
November 2005

Where was he/she born?
Polymedic Hospital

What time was he/she born?
5:27 PM

Weight/length at birth?
I forgot- and I'm not proud with that. Must have been 5 lb-ish.

Age as you're typing this survey:
31

Are you a paranoid mom...?
All the time

Do you sterilize everything (like boil nipples or wash every toy)?
Yes - until he reached 1 year plus. (See previous answer)

Do you buy "sensitive skin" wipes because they're "better" for baby's skin?
No. I rarely use wipes. I use cotton and water.

Do you worry that your baby will stop breathing in his/her sleep?
Not now. But there was a time when he was just an infant...

Do you freak out if they happen to doze off during tummy time? (SIDS!!)
Not now. But sometimes, sometime ago.

Do you overdress your baby, whether it's warm or cold?
No

Do you wash your baby's clothing in Dreft or other baby detergent?
No. For a couple of years, no one could touch his soiled clothings but my mom and me (and hub - when he's home). Now, we sometimes let the cleaners do some of his soiled clothes.

Do you refuse to dress baby in anything with buttons (choking hazard)?
Not now.

Do you watch (and critique) when someone else changes baby's diaper?
No. Ah, yes. Few times when hubby did the changing.

Did you buy all of their furniture (crib, changing table, stroller) NEW?
Yes. Except the stroller-we didn't buy one.

Do you have to wash a pacifier that fell on the floor before giving to baby?
I didn't gave him any pacifier.

Do you worry about anyone else holding your baby?
Yes especially those who are not members of the family.

When you leave baby with a sitter, is all you do worry about baby?
I'm blessed I have my parents as sitters. I would have worried myself sick if it had been other people.

Do you jump out of bed the second baby starts fussing during the night?
When Matt starts coughing, yes. Because he's got asthma.

Do you worry about making baby bleed when clipping his/her fingernails?
No. I mastered this art :-)

Do you call your pediatrician at least once a week?
No. But there are times I wish I could.

Do you cancel playdates because your baby has a runny nose and coughed once?
No playdates for us. So sad.

Do you refuse to go shopping without a shopping cart cover?
No. I do not have one.

If you have a cat, do you worry about toxoplasmosis?
I used to. Gotten over it, thanks God.

Is your baby allowed anywhere near your pets?
No. Because he is asthmatic. But sometimes he can get as near as a couple of feet (with someone holding him) - but I have a no-touching policy with him. Am I so bad?

Do you only feed your baby organic baby foods out of fear of preservatives?
Yes, most of the times. I want to stick to healthy and organic foods but I learned to make concessions.

Do you think you are or ever have been a paranoid new mom?
Yes! There's no denying about that.


Visit more Meme Monday participants at Melanie's.

Young Engineer

Coming home from work one afternoon, my son - after our initial display of affection- said “Mama, remote” and proudly showed me something he had been holding in his hand.


“Oh.” I was surprised. No, that is not a remote. I was almost tempted to say but held my tongue in check.


“What is this remote control for?” I playfully asked instead.

“Remote for [the] yo-yo.”


And I pulled all my reserved acting skills to keep a straight face.

***

So presenting Matt's self-made remote control.



Made out of sticking a cottonbud (arrow) on a hole of wrist toy (that makes sound by pressing the red triangle). He said the cottonbud is the antenna!




And this is my son's entry for this week's MakeIt FromScratch! Eugene Polley- step aside.

Parenting Issue

I was tagged by The New Parent to spill the beans on an important parenting issue - it's whether or not I spare the rod.


I believe in tenderness - tender words and tender touches. I believe in gentle but firm guidance of a parent to a child. I've seen how effective that is to my child.

I try to do that all the time BUT I also have to admit of the times when I mess up. I really am struggling to be a gentle and understanding parent (because I want my kid -or coming kids- to be gentle and understanding parents to their kids, too). I am working on that everyday and everyday, I also find areas for improvement.

I'm tagging no one in particular but if you want to play go ahead, copy and fire away.

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Instructions :

**Start Copying Here**
Tag 5 bloggers
1st - You leave their blog and post link and add to the list below.
2nd - Let the blogger know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment in their blog.

1. Miche does not spare the rod.
2. Jo-N wants to be her children's best friend.
3. The New Parent spares the rod.
4. ZAM struggles very hard to spare the rod.

Lessons from a 23-month old

BE CONCERNED.

Matt yelled to a chicken that was perching atop our fence: “Chicken, get down!”
And in a serious and thoughtful tone added, "Uh fall." (Fall hah! :D)

BARGAIN TRY AGAIN.

After I had repeatedly declined his request to play with my phone, he said “Howd only.” Hold only.

BE PERSISTENT

I was angry one day, and was all quiet. Sensing my strange silence and seeing my dour countenance, Matt came up and tried to entertain appease me. However, I was not making eye contact to him. “Ma, V-pa-power**?” No response. “Ma, drive car.” Still, I was quiet and not making eye contact to him. After more tries, he finally reached over and planted a very wet kiss on my lips.

**V-pa-power is Matt’s way of saying V-Power, which is a type of gasoline from Shell.

WHEN WATERS GET ROUGH, SING.

Me: Matt, don’t bang your guitar on the floor.

But banging still continued.

Me: Okay. I’ll have to keep the guitar if you continue the banging.

Matt: J-O-Y, down….. (singing the I’ve Got JOY Down in my Heart song).

Recall: The story of the Alphabet Song.

ASK FORGIVENESS

“Hug-a Mama. Sorry.” Always. And in an oh-so sweet tone.

NEVER DISCRIMINATE

Greet everyone and anyone.

Morning, fish! (or chicken or Barney or Kermit, etc..)

And to people he doesn't even know: Morning, tao.***

Go-night, Bobby.

After attending a birthday party, he said “Happy Birthday, car.”

***tao means man

SHARE.

"Kermit," Matt gently said while bringing the bottle of Chamyto on Kermit’s lips and pouring the contents all over him.

BE CANDID.

Me: Matt, why are you crying?

Matt, referring to me: [you are] Talking to [a] man.

(Oh!)

Me, seeing Matt atop his toy basket: What are you doing?

Matt: Switch[ing] on-a light.

(But of course!)

TAKE ONE STEP AT A TIME (or…)

Matt: My name is [our home address].

Whoa! This happened after I taught him the my-name-is and I-live-in concepts all at once.

ANGER HAS AN ANTIDOTE.

Seeing Mama angry, Matt said in a placating tone: Maaaaa. Inom**** Bajajesic.

Matt’s Bajajesic means Biogesic, a Paracetamol brand.

****inom means to drink

The Where-Is-The-Flag Game

So it was 2 months ago that we put up these posters but it was not until a couple of weeks ago that we have actually been using them, particularly the Flags of the World poster.

One day, he was eyeing them with interest in his eyes. “Sickle (circle).” “Star.” He said, while pointing to the familiar shapes he recognized. The unmistakable sparkle in his eyes and the eagerness in his voice gave me the go-signal to start touring around the world (and all for free!), albeit with the use of the flags.

Needless to say, a play-learn game also began on that day when I scooped him in my arms to face the collection of flags. By playing the Where-Is-The-Flag (of a country) game, tour we slowly did. Usually, I ask where-is and he’d point at the flag. Other times, I give him the liberty to point and tell me what (flag) country he’s pointing at.

Currently, he’s able to identify 17 flags. But I’m not in a hurry. Matt is only 22-months old. Besides, it’s just a game. He may continue playing, or he may not – and it would still be fine with me. It’s certainly up to him.

But we really have been touring everyday (and even several times in a day). On Matt’s cue, of course.

Like the books that I have given Matt, these visual aids are only made available to him without the thought of ever forcing him to learn these. He could choose to chew, tear or read the books and that will be fine with me (on the second thought, I could be frowning in the first 2 seconds but after that I'll definitely be okay -somehow, I'll find a way to put all the pieces back together :D). But the moment he says “Mama, read” or “Mama, tractor” or something like that, then I will readily be there to guide him. At least that’s my approach to his learning – by letting him take the lead.


Now back to the flags. If you’re wondering how I introduced the flags to a barely-2-year-old tot, here are some points:

1. Tell him of his current location or his origin. I started by telling my son of the country he is from. Consequently, the very first flag learned was the Philippine flag (for Matt, it's 'fins').

This could also be the reason why he usually says “Fins, Mama” when he wants us to play with the flags.

2. Speak of the loved ones who could be in this or that country. A child can easily grasp the information if a relationship is conveyed (or if you make a connection). “Canada is where Tita Che is,” I used to say. To this day, Matt (usually while pointing to the flag) still says, “Can’da, Tita Che.” Similarly, he’s learned to identify other flags like South Korea, Japan , United Kingdom and the USA.

3. Pick a flag that is obviously different. A very different flag or strange-looking one could have an advantage. An example of this would be Nepal.

4. Associate the flags according to the symbols or figures in them that a child could readily identify. Lebanon (has) a tree; Hongkong, flower; Brazil, globe; Switzerland, cross; Israel- stripes and a star; Kenya, (looks like) a spider; and Barbados, a fork.

5. Let him take the lead. In some instances, a child might point or show some interest on a particular flag. Tell him about it. Like this morning, Matt was pointing to the flag of Bahrain so I told him about it. This afternoon, when we were playing (again!), he was able to identify it (plus two others namely, Tonga and Vietnam).

6. As with other things, give praises or encouragement. Conveying your approval to a child when he has correctly identified something could help bolster his confidence. If he makes mistakes, you could tell him that it’s okay and to try (and try) again.

7. Make learning fun (for both of you). Promise not to laugh, but I am not way above from making exaggerated noises and funny faces (usually when he makes mistakes). Although it makes me feel oh-so silly at times, but hey it’s just a game so I'll make it like one and be the silliest. Besides, I think my son loves it. And he’s catching up, too. My imp of a son would tease me by pointing to the wrong flag and then he'd look intently at my face. After I make my funny-silly act capped with a fake fallen look, he’d take a cursory glance over the flags, point to the correct one and look at me in the face with mischief dancing in his eyes and playing on his lips. Hah! He is definitely enjoying it as much as I do.

Ice cream is hot

Banana Split. Coffee Crumble. Cookies ‘n Cream. Very Rocky Road. You’re right, these are yum, yum, yummy ice cream flavors.

I will not deny that, although I am trying to keep my sugar intake in moderation (but failing at times!), I love, love and simply love ice cream.

But who doesn’t? I have yet to meet a regular person that, without as much as a single thought, can resist the temptation of these heavenly melts-in-the-mouth goodies. Really.

But by regular person, I mean someone who is 2 year old and above. Because in reality, I already met a person whose mouth doesn’t water by the mere mention of ice cream. He is none other than my 22-month old son. No kidding.

Matt doesn’t like ice cream. He doesn’t scurry to get a spoon when he sees me produce a bucket. When I’d offer him some, he would only wrinkle his nose, turn his head away and say, “Hot.”

Oh, cute. Surely, it is hot! A hot seller!

But I have the feeling that that was not what he meant. But then I do not really know what he meant by that. What I do know is, he really would not take any of it. Not even when I bring a spoonful close to his mouth so he can readily taste its creamy goodness. I have practically tried all sorts of enticement (not that I encourage him to gorge on ice cream but just to test and see his reaction), but all resulted to the same response.

I am not half as concerned as I’m wondering.

Must he think these “hot” sellers are really hot, like soup is hot, because of the puffs of “smoke” that visibly waft from ice cream buckets? Or that an ice cream must feel hot (for him) because of the somewhat burning sensation caused by ice* when it hits the tongue? Other than these two theories, I am happily clueless.

Anyhow, it’s okay. It’s actually more than fine with me. If he won’t take any of it, that’s excellent. I just hope he won’t still do by the time he’s 5 years old and up. That would save us a lot of cash and dentist trips J

*My boy here doesn’t like ice either.

30 Things

Because I just turned 30, I’m going to run-down a list of 30 things I learned as a parent.


I have learned…


1. that the best way to take care of the baby inside me is to take care of myself.


2. that I have to take care myself to be able to take good care of the baby who’s already outside of me.


3. that I have the ability to make milk, change diapers or baby clothing and rock the baby while still half-asleep.


4. to smile while changing poopy diapers.


5. to say goodbye to 8-hour or more sleep, to be thankful and contented with a 6-hr sleep, and to survive through days with even less than 5-hour sleep.


6. that mushy left-over of the baby won’t make my stomach ache.


7. that spotting shards of glass on the floor can make you think “where’s my kid?”, “could he be hurt?” and a thousand other thoughts even when the baby is safely tucked in your arms. Panicky or forgetful? Maybe both.


8. that it only takes ONE kid to tear a house apart.


9. to pray more (and it’s not just because of #8).


10. to be a child once again. To play more, sing nursery songs more, eat baby food…


11. love what my kid loves. So if my kid loves Leelard the Lizard, then why can’t I?


12. to say I love you a hundred (or more) times a day. (This also implies repeating everything I say a hundred or more times. Wink! )


13. Kids are so imaginative. A squash is a ball, a calculator is a phone,

a fork is a screwdriver, etc.

14. to be imaginative too. That’s why I call medicines as “vitamins that make one well.” Wink.


15. to be constantly on a look-out for safe product alternatives to be used at home.


16. to get everything done – do the laundry, scrub the floor, prepare meals, wash the dishes and baby’s bottles, yaddi, yadda- in a jiffy (while the baby sleeps).


17. that it is possible to take “power baths” in less than 5 minutes.


18. to appreciate my parents –especially my mother more and more each day. (Pregnancy and childbirth are not easy.)

19. not to complain or laugh so hard when kid farts (he did while I was listing this!)


20. that it is awful to leave a crying child in tantrum alone, but it’s more awful if you had screamed and hurt him because you did not leave.


21. that lights are lifesavers, they have he power to stop baby’s tears.


22. that a kiss can make the pain “gone na” (disappear).


23. that the sweetest thing on earth is a child’s I love you.


24. that there is nothing more touching than his “Sowee.”


25. that at any given time, there is no more pleasant music than the laughter of a child.


26. that there is nothing more distressing to a parent than having a sick child.


27. that there is nothing more heartbreaking than seeing him cry.


28. that there is nothing more heartwarming than seeing him smile.

29. that a parent makes the bed, prepares the kids to bed, gets them to bed but sometimes never makes it to bed himself/herself.


30. that there is nothing more fulfilling and daunting than parenthood.


31. that sweat-soaked head can still smell sweet. (Sound like a tongue twister. Lol)


How about you, what have you discovered about parenthood?

I bought one Fisher-Price toy

When the news about Fisher-Price recalling some Made In China toys hit the airwaves, I was alarmed because I did purchase one toy for my son last month. And one which he instantly fell inlove with.


I am really panic-stricken. I've always been cautious in choosing Matt's toys because I am aware about the possible hazards of paints, which some toys are decorated with.


I've seen the complete list of recalled toys already. Actually, I've read through it over and over again (and was holding my breath all the while).


I know I should be able to relax now, but I am still anxious and worried though already breathing normally. Can't take chances, so I guess his Doctor Giggles will no longer see the light of the day tomorrow and onwards. That's the only way I know of dispelling this unease.

WFMW - Munching merrily

Sometimes, even kids with a hearty appetite, like my son Matt, can be difficult during mealtimes.

To help me get through tough times during mealtimes, I thought of running a video about foods and eating on TV. And lucky me found the perfect package in the Sesame Street's Let's Eat! video.

I believe that seeing the kids and the puppets munching, not just food but healthy food, encourages my dear one to gobble his meals, maybe not through the last morsel but enough to keep this Mama happy.

It's been working for me eversince.

More about parenting here.

Sharing is the magic word

I'll let you into a secret. A happy secret to living my life stress-free these past few weeks. Almost stress-free, that is.

For quite sometime, I've been having this problem with Matt during kiddo's Vitamins Time. No, it's not a case of him not-wanting to drink his vitamins. Because the truth is, I've never really had a problem of that kind. Yes, I definitely have no trouble giving him vitamins from the very start. From what I can see, buddy Matt here thinks that vitamins are some kind of a treat.


The only, only problem is his persistence to hold the brown breakable bottles. I mean, after he's done gulping these tasty liquids, he would then demand to hold their bottles. He really likes having them in his hands, examining and playing with them. But then kids are sometimes like that (and I do marvel at the greater joy the littlest and simplest thing could bring to a child).


But I've been trying to deal with that every single day. From explaining that he might drop and break them and then he might get hurt, to telling the tale of them getting stale when not returned to the fridge, I've always been trying to make him see the sense behind my refusal to hand him these. Everyday, I've been looking for a better way to drive home the point. Even pointing the fact that he broke one brown bottle of a manzanilla already. But what did I get, the same stubborn persistence. I do understand that, of course, kids are sometimes also like that. And when I find myself giving in to his childish demands, I'd be looking for hassle-free ways to get the bottles back because he'd make so much fuss sometimes.


Finally, I stumbled upon the marvelous solution that guarantees solving the tug o' wars I have with my son. Goodbye, goodbye trouble. No more crying now.

Hello, hello, everlasting peace.

The solution is... And I'm sharing it because incidentally the solution to all this trouble is "sharing." The magic word is sharing.


"Matt, I've gotta have the vitamins back because I'm sharing some to your friend Leelard," I told him one day. I tried it because I had a sneaking suspicion that that might just do the trick. And it did- still does.


And as I write this, I revel in the awesome fact that even a stubborn 1 yo kid could yield and give up something all in the wonderful idea of sharing. I mean, for us adults, sharing could come easily and quite naturally, even instinctively at times. But for very very young minds, it could be another thing.


P.S.1. Friend Leelard is rubber lizard I bought for Matt months back.
P.S.2. When Kiddo Matt, stays too long in his bath, I also say "done now because we're sharing the water with Leelard or Tita or..." Thankfully, I get the same positive result.

almost

If I were to turn one moment of my life into a 3-minute flick, I’d have chosen an afternoon of late when a seemingly innocent mineral water bottle somehow found its way to my son’s hand.

I daresay that it had the needed elements in one full package. Suspense. Drama. Comedy. And a bonus twist.

Moreover, the actor is, by consequence and by choice, my favorite. My son.

So there he was holding the almost empty mineral bottle. What could possibly be wrong with that? Nothing really, had my imp of a son not found a better way of emptying it- by aiming to pour out the last of its content on a very live electric outlet, silently lying on the floor just few centimeters away from him. But then, kids are, indeed, predictably unpredictable.

Luckily though, he missed it by a hair’s breadth!

[With fear slowly ebbing away, myriad of emotions hit me full force. Relief, annoyance, rage… I was really really really upset. Honestly mad.]

“MATT, YOU…,” livid me started to chastise him in a louder than usual voice. But checking myself, I cut myself short in mid-sentence, unwilling to let anger get the better of me.

I was still seething but gritting my teeth and scanning my ire-addled brain for something constructive to say, when my son quickly butted in, “You, vee, doe you (double-you)...”

The unaffected man of the hour gleefully continued in the tune of the Alphabet song! His initial reaction of wide-eyed wonder was slowly replaced with a sheepish grin.

And I couldn’t help it, I broke into laughter myself. In times like this, I think dear tot is becoming more like my husband in character despite his constant-albeit-unwanted absence.

Lesson: Humor is a dangerous powerful weapon. It is a magic spell.

(2/2) On motherhood: I feel different

Previous post

Do I make it sound as if becoming a mother makes a woman grow fangs? Pardon me. Although that's figuratively true, too. Like one could be capable of brandishing sharp claws to protect her young ones from all the harm in this world. But so different is a mother because one moment, one can be a symbol of bravado and be unyielding. Yet squishy, mushy soft, the next. (And I'm definitely like this all the time)


But when I say different, I am not implying that we are unkind, uncaring persons before the Delivery-Room moment. Maybe we were good. Now, better. And different. Certainly different.


Somewhat dogmatic me, for instance, likes a quiet bedtime and orderly bed. But when you have a toddler at home, who cares about “quiet and order”? I tell you, the peals of laughter from the tot will all be your source of comfort and joy. And then you just have to put “order” in the garbage bin and forget about it. Because you just cannot throw a fit when you find yourself sharing the bed with more than just your kid, but the whole troop of soft, hard and metallic toys!


In the past, I used to squirm when I see women nursing their babies in public places. I didn't imagine I'll be able to do that too. No, not when there are people who might gawk. Not in my wildest dream. I never really expected myself to be capable of that. I didn't know that one kid later, I would be in for a surprise.


I have changed. Maybe not too drastically. But that makes me feel different.


Sometimes, I think I must be too sensitive already. A month ago, we saw a seventy-something man who works abroad as a garbage collector or something. He was featured on TV and he said he hasn't seen his family, his kids for a very long time because he doesn't earn that much to be able to afford the expenses of coming home. That moved me and made me shed some tears (not copious but tears all the same) because I felt his pain, his deep longing as a parent to see his kids.


I cry over the life story of seventy-something, but how much more for the little ones?


And that brings me to the answering why I’m writing what I’m writing. Because THAT is exactly why I’m writing what I’m writing now.

I feel different, and most especially when the subject is the children. When I hear of a nine-month old to undergo an open-heart surgery, to correct a congenital disease. When I see a grubbily-clad toddler lying on the sidewalk or bare-footed youngsters rummaging through a pile of garbage. When I read about Annie’s daughter. Or read about the plight of exploited and abused kids, I feel different.

I look at them with mother’s eyes, listen with mother's ears and feel for them with mother’s heart. And pray for them like they are my own.

***

How did motherhood change you?

(1/2) On motherhood: Feeling different

When you become a mother, you just feel different. I couldn’t quite put a finger to it except to say that, you just feel different. Or maybe that’s just from my own standpoint. I feel different everyday. I'm still the same me but I am different in more than a thousand ways.

So different that, for me, to use one word just cannot encompass all the feelings of being a mother. So inadequate, I think. And honestly, I don’t think there’d even be one word that can do that. Even to use the adverb motherly might not suffice because other than implying about being a mother or showing attributes that of a mother, it is simply vague. That’s just like an arrow aimed for bullseye but fell meters short off the target and didn’t really come close to hitting it.

So, what precisely are the attributes that make one motherly? Such a loooooooong long list of adjectives, I might say. More patient. More considerate. More loving. More enduring. More intense. More compassionate. More perceptive. More sensitive. More, more and more. My best attempt at capturing the feeling is only to add more before each adjective even though sometimes it really, really is MORE THAN just more. And all that may still be lacking and still conjure less than half of the picture, but that’s the best I can do to describe being a mother.

The amazing thing is, the capacity to be all that is immeasurable.

But then it also goes without saying that, sadly, not all mothers become these though. A sad fact. But consider too that it’s not even because one brought a life in this world, that makes one a mother. So they say. Why, then, would there be many of them urchins begging in the streets?

Getting back on track, I am not describing myself with ALL those terms. That would be cheeky of me and I am not that audacious yet. Haha. But then, that doesn’t say I am not hoping that one day Matt would describe me to be all that and more. That would truly be compliment of all compliments.

So what am I trying to tell then? First, I’ll venture a shy half stride forward to say, uhmmm, SOME. I feel I’m some of those terms. NOT ALL but some, just some. Especially when it comes to children. Kids. Matters concerning the little ones. Even if he, she, they are not my own, they always touch a chord in my heart.

***

Do you feel the same way too?

On Papa again

Today being a Sunday, we went to hear an early morning mass. There could have been nothing to write about it, if not for one incident that caught me off guard.

You guessed right. Who else could effortlessly do that except for dear Matt?

The mass was in near finish and everyone’s standing. I was also standing while holding Matt when in a quiet voice, he said “Papa.” For a moment, I didn’t quite grasp what he meant by that. If he hadn’t repeated the word again, I would have dismissed that as random babbling of a verbally groping kid. But he repeated the word again.

And because he was not pointing, all I could do was to follow the direction of his gaze for some clue.

His eyes were fixed on a man, having the same profile as my husband, who was standing couple of pews ahead of us. The man would sometimes turn his head, giving us fair glimpse of his face.

Slightly thrusting his body forward, Matt said the word again. And it didn’t take long for me to figure out that Matt has mistaken that man to be his Poppa.

I could have been grateful when the priest asked the congregation to be seated so as to put that man out of my son’s sight. But as some luck would have it, there were just a small number of us churchgoers, and the big gaps and spaces still gave us a good view of that man and his kids. It didn’t help one bit that he was PDA-ying (read: kissing and hugging) with his kids as Matt looked on.

He softly whispered the word one more time and then he was silent. Did I sense yearning?

Even if firm was the last thing I could be deep within, I said firmly,"No, Matt. It's not Papa. Papa's in Cebu."

Though uncommonly silent, he continued to stare and observe the man’s every movement with his eyes.

I honestly felt like crying. And I was so concerned what he was actually thinking while he gazed straight at him, at his kids.

And GOD forgive me because I also felt like I wanna cuss. Dang!

Introducing Christ

A Christian mama like me also wants my kid (or coming kids) to know Christ. Not so much for any righteous reason or anything but for the young, for them to get acquainted with Someone who exemplifies obedience in all His life.

But it's a wait-and-see attitude for me. Actually, it's teach-comma-wait-and-see attitude.

Because what's clear to me now is that I'll leave it to the kids to decide what to make of that, of Christianity in their own lives.

I'll give the options but will not force them on their throats. An example would be, although I'd like also for Matt to attend Sunday classes or hear mass regularly, I cannot force him, when the time comes, to do that when he doesn't want to. Yeah, it's like that.

And right now, I'm slowly groping for a way to introduce Christ in dear Matt's life. Nothing complicated, it's just small things that may (or may not) matter. Kiddo is way too young for Sunday School lessons or big complicated things like that. So it's just little things like teaching him to make the Sign of the Cross, pointing out images of Jesus, Mary, Joseph or some angels and saints or praying with him before bedtime.

I'm even avoiding calling Mary as Mama Mary or referring Joseph as Papa Joseph because that might confuse my son. But in the context of Christ being her son (and telling Matt that), I use Mama Mary.

Read more of the recent session we have had of this alternative teaching at home, click here.