Miss independent

One thing Princess Wendy got from me is a certain level of independence. From such a young age, she has made the initiative to do things on her own. She wraps her gifts At age 3 years, she was already eating on her own (well, I think the primary reason was that I was too slow in putting the food into her mouth and so she decided to take matter into her own hands), and yes, with proper use of spoon and fork. At age 4, she was already taking a bath on her own, shampoo and everything! At 6, thank God, she can clean up after herself after making poo-poo. And now, at 7, I can only marvel at the things she wants to do herself…from the small things like wrapping her gifts to her friends and going to the store alone to preparing and dressing for school by herself (everyday! AMAZING!) and religiously adhering to the medication regimen consisting of four medicines (I repeat, regimen) for her skin twice a day. She does these all by herself! I can only smile when she tells me, “Mama, I can do [this]. I’m a big girl already!” [How fast time flies.] I guess she is eager to learn and eager to grow up!

These are some of my proud moments. Yes, I am happy that she’s growing to be independent. But I wonder, WILL I BE HAPPY ABOUT IT, SAY, 5 OR 6 YEARS FROM NOW? Will I be happy when, at 13 or 14, she would shrug me off because she won’t be needing my help anymore…or, worse [it hurts to even think of it], she doesn’t need me anymore? Will I be happy when I offer help and she tells me, “I can do this on my own?” Will I be happy when she decided on her own without asking for my advice? Soon enough, she would be trekking Mt. Everest and riding a JFK Shuttle…without me.  [Sigh!] Will I be happy? Proud, yes, but happy?

You see, independent as PW may seem to be at 7, she is still dependent on and attached to me. She wants to be with me most of the time, she still asks for my opinion when I ask her to make a decision, she wants to accompany me to the mall or when I go out, she asks me to go home early from work sao we can spend time together, she wants us to do activities together, she stills sees me as an important and necessary figure in her life. In short, I am a god to her. And I drown in this fact. I bet most parents will agree that this is one source of happiness: that our children need and worship us.

But how long this “worship” would last…I’m not so sure. Oooh…how I dread the time that she sees me as her god would end, when I would be then demoted to the ranks of those-i-see-only-when-i-need-them people. I hope that time would not come.

Well, the least I can wish for is that I’d be forever her mother and friend.