Friday, August 17, 2007


I am sitting in the porch, waiting for my chicken to cook so we can eat. Waiting for time to pass so we can go to the movies. It’s humid after the rain. We’re having two more days of rain according to the weather forecast so my mornings by the pool have to be postponed.
And as I lazily sit here killing time, I decide it’s time to post something here.

My first-born “ice-ice-baby-boy” leaves the nest for the first time. I accompany him to the place he will call home for the next four years. And as I launch him into his new life, as I help him prepare his new home and get familiar with his new school, I am left with some not-so-typical emotions.
I am not worried about him. I am not worried about what might happen as he lives on his own in a place miles and miles away from home. I am not worried about missing him. My joy at seeing him reach this stage overshadows any negative feelings that might come with his approaching vacant spot in my house. I am happy for him.

I am often asked how I feel about this, with the expected answer being something along the lines of “I can’t believe my boy is leaving the house, living on his own. I am gonna miss him so much. I don’t know how I can handle his absence from the house and I am so worried about leaving him to tend for himself.”
And occasionally, I fake such answer (I am, when the occasion demands, quite good at...hmmmm...faking it?)
But the truth of the situation is that I am simply happy for him, with no worries whatsoever (Overconfidence that I raised him well enough to be up for the challenge? Lack of proper motherly emotions? Inability to come to grips with the actual situation? It didn’t hit me yet?)

So for now, my worries now are 2:
1. Chicken here is so damn huge, will it cook in time? (why did I decide to cook tonight? What’s wrong with the restaurant food we’ve been munching at for the past 10 days? Playing mother?)
2. I hope I don’t get bored out of my mind as the boys and I go watch Superbad tonight. (Another fake attempt to be motherly maybe?)

OK enough of that. I am not a fake. My mere acknowledgment of the fact that I ‘fake’ it is proof that I am a very very honest person ;)

Ciao y’all.