She drew a snowman.
Added in two eye dots and dot nose, dot mouth.
Added in one BIG eye, cyclops style, almost covering the dot nose.
Added whiskers, saying “meow” whilst drawing the whiskers.
Then she added feet and with laughter in her voice said “snowman is walking”.
Such imagination, my child. Keep it up, Anak!
Since Daddy had to be in a teleconference with colleagues half a world away and hence had to stay at the office at midnight owing to the time difference, it was only you and me at dinner this evening.
Every night, Mommy relies on Daddy’s help in looking out for you so that I can do the daily house chores. But this evening, it was amazing how I wasn’t stressed at all even when I had to do everything by myself. I even finished ALL tasks and hour earlier! The reason? The sensitive you who must have sensed that this evening is different was very cooperative; you did all our evening rituals with just one word from me whereas usually it takes a quarter of one hour just to make you go to bath. You even took your medicine which you refused to take for a week now.
What really amazed me was how you respected Mommy’s “me time” by waiting patiently outside the bathroom door. We took bath together and as usual, I got you dressed in your pajamas ahead and afterwich, I continued taking shower. As is our habit, you closed the outside powder room door when you got out. Of course I hurried with my nightly regimes as fast as I can, albeit I’m quite sure that the fast for me might be too long for you especially since you’ll be out alone. But you gave me space and kept the door closed. When I opened the powder room door, there you were waiting, holding your beloved blankie which your Ninang Dhonna gave you.
No clamouring for attention, no tantrums, right at the time when I needed your help the most. Our bedtime prayer this evening had been special too, as I felt God’s assurance in holding you by the hand as you grow up.
Thank you my dear anak, I can only be thankful to God for you. Mommy is so much blessed. Grow up well.
Monday morning.
We were walking to daycare when we came across a dead bird by the side of the road.
My heart was really gripped with the plight of the bird; I pointed it out to Yui.
Mommy: Look Yui, the bird is dead. Kawaiso bird ne (poor bird).
Yui: Sad. Bird dead.
And indeed, she hung her head for a minute or so while walking.
Monday evening.
I was racking my memory, making sure if we did not, by happenstance, touch the bird’s peripheris at all; wanted to make sure we didn’t come into contact of any possible pathogen.
Tuesday evening.
While in bed, before sleep.
Yui: Sad.
Mommy: Why are you sad, Anak? Do you miss Daddy? Mommy miss Daddy too. But don’t worry, he’ll be back soon.
Yui nodded her head and said “Mmm” in answer to my second question. To answer my first question, she said:
Yui: Sad, bird dead.
And she closed her eyes tightly, me holding her, whilst she drifted off to sleep.
It’s been two days yet it lingered with her.
Hubs and our toddler went out for a walk in Hubs’ childhood neighbourhood. They came back showing me videos and photos of their walk, showing how passionate Yui became (or more like how she went amok) when she saw a statue of a horse.
Apart from the stories though, they brought home a priceless treasure too. With Yui in Hubs’ arms, she handed me this teeny weeny bouquet of wild flowers which she and her Dad picked up and which Dad bundled to make a bouquet.
Priceless.
Thank you A and Anak. But above all, I thank God for sending you both to me.
This was the April wall decor at the daycare; by the stairs on the way to the second floor.
When Yui saw it, she said that “Bubu” (Japanese childish word for pig) is sad, her expression worried. She then looked up at the sky and waved at the (imaginary) balloon and was calling for it to come back.
Yes indeed; with Bubu looking up at the sky and only the elephant holding a balloon, it does seem that Bubu’s balloon floated up and away.
A big smile and warm feelings on Mommy. The imagination. The empathy.
We follow a limited screen-time at home for our daughter. Even at that, we’ve been having a hard time keeping our daughter sit still on the sofa whilst watching her videos. She wants to have her face just a couple of inches away from the monitor. We’ve thought of many ways how to keep her face away from the monitor including drawing scary faces and taping it on the monitor’s edge which proved effective for a couple or so days. And then we’re back to square one again.
Last week, Hubs remembered that Yui gets scared of Daruma-san. So he thought of putting the charm atop the monitor. Like magic, it worked and Yui really did keep away from the monitor.
Until one evening. I was in the kitchen cooking when she ran to me, calling “Mommy, Mommy!”, her voice urgent. When I looked up, she was running to me holding the Daruma in her right hand, her right arm stretched as far away from her face as she could, her face also angled away from the Daruma, her eyes on a squint watching out for the Daruma yet at the same time (probably) checking it that it didn’t creep up her arm.
Instantly, I was barraged with a number of emotions. Of course there was the small chagrin of seeing our scare-tactic failing again. But the most prevalent of all the emotion was pride and wonderment. That this little lady faced her fears just so she can be where she wanted to be. That this little lady overcame her fear and handled her fear bravely, this fear that hindered her from fully enjoying what she wanted to do. And yes, there’s that Mommy joy, rejoicing with the fact that my little child is fully confident that Mommy is always there to support her.
