Last month, the original Crispy Bata (aka Gavin) turned 3.
I'm 3!
Some of you may be thinking, “What? How did he all of a sudden turn 3?”
I am thinking the same thing. And I see this kid every day of my life.
I looked at some older pictures of my son, and it’s amazing the kind of transformation they do from scrawny, screaming newborn to, well, scrawny, screaming 3-year-old. I’m sure some people who have known me since I was a scrawny, screaming 3-year-old myself, and they’re probably wondering how I did it, too.
I have always thought of myself as a very self-aware selfish person. As a single adult, there isn’t necessarily anything wrong with that. There might be if you are the primary caregiver for any other person, but otherwise, it’s OK to be selfish. The only person you can really count on is you. So it’s good practice to look out for No. 1.
When I found out I was pregnant with G, it still felt completely natural though. I still felt selfish, but as he was a part of me, it was like I was selfish on his behalf. Everything starting from that point was for the well-being of this child first, me second. There are things about my child-rearing experience that I thought I’d never do (like park him in front of the TV for a half-hour or more while I wash dishes or complete some other chore), and I have found that I am a stronger person than I initially thought I was. And perhaps in many ways, even before G, I wasn’t always just thinking about No. 1.
Now that G is a very active, rambunctious, clever, healthy 3-year-old, I celebrate my 3 years and 9 months as a mother. I didn’t think I could do it, partly because I had so many awesome mother figures in my life (my grandmother, my mother, my aunts, and many of their friends). How could I live up to that?
But when I look in my son’s face, and he only has eyes for me, I know. I just love him. And he appreciates that. For the past 3 years, that’s all I really needed to know. I didn’t realize it, but my mother (and her mother) taught me that, and showed it to me by example.
I know that this period of “mama is the best!” only lasts so long. I cherish the moments. If he wants to be a baby, I let him (within reason). If he feels like being a big boy the next minute, that’s OK too. That’s the thing about being 3. Before too long, he will really be too old to want to be a baby … and he really won’t want to be treated like one.
I’m glad I had such amazing mother figures in my life because they showed me to relish each moment about being a mom. They showed me that even the painful parts are necessary to raising your child right, and they are worth it for the moments when your child, wearing a dishtowel cape, kisses you on the face and says, “Superman loves you” with such sincerity that you know it will be true as long as you love the little Superman back.
Gavin at less than 1 week old
