Lifeventure: Rocked by Mom-a-Baby
“You watch me, ok? keep me safe, mama’s going to sleep, just look at mama :D” That’s what my mom said she would always say to me as a baby.
I was never the type of kid to cried a lot, or the type that shouts and be very talkative. In a Psychological perspective, I’d say it was mainly because I was a Cesarean baby, I was cut out from the tummy and I never really got that “first hug” from my mother’s vag. That’s what my course dictates, and so I was a shy baby, and I’d just drink up my milk every time the bottle is filled.
“Oh! Empty again? that’s your third bottle, no more milk for you, I’ll put water instead” Every time she does that she says that I don’t really finish my bottle and I leave some left so I still have something to drink. Maybe it was because it was plain with no flavor, or maybe it was because I was smart 🙂 don’t agree? ok we’ll go with no flavor then, it’s your story after all LOL.
My mom told me that whenever she was washing clothes she would put my crib near the door so I can still see her, and I would just stand inside my crib, be quite and just watch what she was doing. I like saying that I was never a rowdy baby, because children these days are so high maintenance, I’m not saying that high maintenance babies are no good, I’m simply saying that I was some sort of a unique baby in our neighborhood, so unique that in just 8 months old I was already walking.
“Ahhhh! a Tiyanak! Help! Help!” A stranger shouted in the night while seeing me walk on my 8 month old baby legs towards her, she had thought that I was a monster because of my unusually very small height. And when my mom told me this, I thought awesome! I’d achieved a “strong foundation” since I was a baby (I’ve always though as the feet as a form of foundation because I like seeing tall people).
I was never a sick baby also, unlike my older sister who was always rushed to the hospital because of something, me on the other hand I was as healthy as an ox. It’s just the environment that got to me. One time when my mom just got to our house (because she’s from Cavite and my father lives at Makati) it was very filthy, to the worst of the worst, and that made my precious baby skin irritated and with sores, it was disgusting (my mom described it in Tagalog and I could not dare tell the words in English). My mom had to rush me to the hospital to get me cleaned up. “What kind of house do you have? Are you spawning rats and cockroaches there?! Poor baby, look at him, clean that house up! Don’t let your baby suffer any further skin diseases.” That’s what the Lady Doctor told my mom and my mom was very angry at my grandparents because of that, some of that anger still lingers until today, I can see it in her eyes every time she would tell me that story.
I was fat though, not like chubby fat but fat-fat. I was a bloated baby. If only I could find some pictures, but my cuteness level would have to be an 8 out of 10. Yeah, despite the poor situation of our house (which was cleaned after the incident) I was a bouncing baby boy with a bottle in both hands. I loved my milk, my mom says that whenever I would get my bottle to drink, I would smile first at her and then drink the bottle, how cool is that? 😀 I’d like my baby to do that to me, it made my mom warm and fuzzy on the inside.
I cherish my babyhood, I was independent-adorable, I would be able to put the cap back on my bottle and I would just be smiling quietly and looking at people, I never demanded anyone to come carry me, I just stand quietly and be myself.
I always wonder why I was like that, and I wish my kid would be the same as me, I’d like it to be that way. My cousin’s baby is a very noisy baby, it’s a healthy noise, I guess she might even grow up to be a singer someday. haha! But I’m a guitar-singer :P.
“we can never be too sure what a baby will become until that baby grows up :D”