The Working Mom

I was raised by a stay-at-home Mom but I had so much memories of my Dad being at home a lot as well during my childhood. Although I vividly recall being home with my Mom a lot more than my Dad. Maybe these memories were before I even started school, I am not so sure, because I remember being fed caldereta from the nearby carenderia for lunch, our afternoon meriendas of hopia and royal tru-orange, and the smell of adobong liver cooking for dinner. On weekend mornings, I would volunteer to buy pan de sal and liver spread from the nearby bakery! But maybe this was when I was seven or eight already.

Anyway, now that I am a mom myself, a part of me wishes I could be a stay-at-home mom like my own mother. When I gave birth to my son, we asked the hospital to room him in with us right away as this helped us a lot in teaching him how to latch properly and eventually succeed in our wish to breastfeed him exclusively. Since then, Mom and son were inseparable. I remember how I used to sneak in a bath during his naps when he was still very young and rushing back to him before he wakes up. During the first few months, I was attached to him and he was attached to me like a velcro. That's why back then, I couldn't imagine ever going back to work.

My son at two months

But I managed. We managed. Armed with my supportive husband, not to mention my ever-reliable mom and mother-in-law, I jumped back into my normal routine at work. Looking back now, I am truly happy I did. I know this is what God wants our life to be. But mornings will always be ours, My Son. I would just stare at you and let you sleep some more, never mind if it's too late and I'll be caught in traffic. When you wake up with a leaking nappy, I take it off and let you roam around in the room with your cute little butt exposed. We play and sing a little. We eat cereals and drink milk. And that's when I tell you, "Mom is going to the office today". You hug me tight, slowly placing your head on my shoulder. I hug you back. We take a bath (yes, together because that saves us time) and get dressed. Ate Christine comes in the room with your breakfast (yogurt, banana, bread and cheese) and I get ready for my exit. You used to cry when I leave, but your independence is slowly showing. You let me kiss your forehead but you never turn your head. You know that I'll be back and Daddy will be with you soon.