I mean, really, you have to be some big meanie to not find happiness in a box of new crayons. So yeah, excuse me if I had to take a picture of my new crayons. Mumble and Grover are just two of the many simple gifts my husband has given me through the years. He gave them to me when I particularly needed to be cheered up, so I thought it was only fitting that they share the frame with my beloved box of crayons. (Weirded out yet? Read the title of the entry...)
Like many like-minded high functioning obsessive compulsives , I used my crayons sparingly. I made sure that they hardly got pudpod whenever I would use them. I tried to return them to their exact same position so that they'd maintain that new-box-of-crayons look.
When I got pregnant and took to making those monthly belly growth pictures, I realized that I needed to use them more to prettify my signs. The first time I tried to draw out a sign using the crayons in the same please-don't-get-pudpod way, I saw that the sign could hardly be seen in the picture. So I made the sign again, this time making sure to color with all abandon. I was going to say "color as a child would", but I've been so OC all my life, I sincerely doubt if I even colored like a child when I was a child. *sigh*
As I was making diin with matching tongue sticking out of the corner of my mouth, one of the crayons' tips actually fell off. And I mean it went, pak!, in the tiniest possible way, and my heart broke a little. I mean, I actually got woozy for a while because I destroyed my pristine crayons.
I panicked. I tried to put the crayon back in the box, reattached the small part that fell away. From a distance, it looked like nothing happened. But just as how the tiniest of air bubbles in self-made manicure can annoy the living beejeebus out of me, that crack that existed just below the crayon's label nagged at me. So, wonder of wonders, I took the crayon, peeled enough of the label off, and sharpened the crayon in the handy-dandy sharpener that came along with the box.
It looked kawawa, especially compared to its beautiful brother and sister crayons, but at least it got "sharp" enough for me to continue making my pretty sign (it's actually the sign that you see below, heralding my 5th month).
I started letting go henceforth.
Some of my co-teachers' kids sometimes stay in our workroom in the afternoon and I love them to bits and pieces. Two of the kids went into my cubicle and saw the pictures that the other kids made for me, hanging on my wall. They asked if they could draw some pictures for me as well. So I took out two sheets of scratch paper, gave them the crayons, and they proceeded to make their masterpieces.
Another co-teacher, who understands (and shares) some of my neuroses, passed by and found the ease in which I let the kids color away remarkable. I didn't actually realize how un-difficult it was to let go of the "perfection" of those "new" crayons. Of course, when she said that, I panicked just a little inside, but I thought about two things: (1) I'm probably not as crazy as I was before! Hurray! And (2) Thank God I have another stash of "perfect" crayons somewhere else (albeit significantly fewer and significantly less cooler). Haha!
So why am I writing about this? I mean, they're crayons, for Pete's sake.
An avalanche of thoughts spread over me...how I would not be able to follow a "strict" schedule once Lucia comes; how everything that was once clean and spotless might eventually get drooled on by a teething baby; how walls that had to be adorned by pictures arranged just-so would be lovingly decorated by little drawings (made by short, stubby, and broken crayons perhaps); how I'd probably smell like baby barf/pee/poop; how despite all my mad attempts to disinfect her toys, her utensils, her world, germs will still come and get my child; how much all of that terrifies the stinky-poopers out of me (see my attempts to child-proof my language?)...and how much I can't wait for all of that to happen.
All my life, I've been neurotic. First I had to learn to live with my neurosis, then I learned to love them. Now, I have to learn to let go of them, because something greater is coming along. I hope she'll be so great, she won't have my neuroses...or that my neuroses won't drive her mad. Yeah, more of the latter. Haha. :p
So I've let go of my perfect crayons. How hard could the rest of it be? ;) Okay, so very. But it will be magical. And I can't wait. :)
Kating, thanks so so much for sharing this. Just like Papa used to be so OC with cleanliness, noise, etc., he gradually learned to let go of some of these as life and esp. children took over his life. Do you know that of all my children, you were the one who didn't have a consistent schedule of breastfeeding? You were "on the demand" which was quite flexible. So, know that you started out your life as a very flexible, unstructured individual. Sleeping patterns, mobility - everything was in flux. I guess there was too much flexibility - being the first child of very active parents. So your OC helped you for many years to cope and function with that. How else could a 2-year-old survive being dragged all over Europe and US, eat strange food, see strange people, stay awake up to the wee hours in concert halls, get up before dawn for international flights? Even when we were just based in the Philippines, we had the same weird hours (remember family time at 10 pm when papa would come home from rehearsals or concerts?). All kinds of people would drop by our house at the oddest hours to visit. Then there were the long years of my corporate life in Makati. You kids had to fend for yourselves (with the yayas tho) as I would be home after supper every day. Haayyy... but that is all in the past. Now a new chapter begins with Lucia. I pray that she turns out as well as you did. I know I already love her as much as I love you!
ReplyDeleteYehey! I shall unleash my inner Bohemian. :)
ReplyDeleteThanks, Ma. :) Sometimes I wish I could be pregnant forever (kasi it really is such a miracle!) and sometimes I wish Luci could come out now na. Hay. :)
One of the most powerful lessons of motherhood for me was letting go of control over every aspect of life. Of mine and my babies. It was so hard, with my first baby, being cooped up with the most demanding little person I have ever met. I felt drained and trapped and add to that everybody and their cousin had an opinion as to how I should care for my child. Part of me needed to follow ALL the advice I was given, even the ones that contradicted each other. A bigger part of me wanted to scream SCREW YOU GET YOUR OWN KID! Good thing a third part of me smothered the voice of that bigger part.
ReplyDeleteLater on, Mike and I agreed that the secret to parenthood is "Don't stress". You can't control their whole lives anyway, even if you wanted, even if you tried, so just go with the flow, and let them get into scrapes and get sick, and eat junk food (once in a while). And let them cover their walls with stickers, and get wet in the rain and wear mismatched socks and not just pudpod but break their crayons into pieces. And one of the hardest, let their grandparents spoil them. :) Cause these are the things that childhood is made of. Their childhood is too fleeting to spend scolding and keeping toys in boxes. Childhood is for fun! For my kids and for me. So, Don't Stress. :)
And anyway kids are more well made than we think. It's harder to screw up their lives than we might guess.
(Now I have to check my grammar because dear Jesus, this is Katz's blog. Haha!)
Thanks, Ina! :D Sage advice indeed! I'll have a hard time not stressing though since I stress over EVERYTHING. That's where Chad comes in, haha! He's so laid back kasi e. Yung tipong halos nakakairita na. Hahaha!
ReplyDeleteBut it'll be good coping therapy for me. What better reason to let go of ticks that bog me down anyway?;)