The Things We Lost in Maturity
Things isn’t exactly the same now after 3 years. Well, 3 years next Tuesday. A lot of things happened in 3 years and sometimes I feel like I go through a lot in such a short period of time. The experience has been overwhelming and although I have tried to take one step at a time, I am not who I used to be 3 years ago. I feel that I am doing a bang-on job at being a mother. I tend to Daisy, I make time for her, I’ve been making sure that I don’t miss any of her firsts, I get pretty obsessed with her that I run around the world with her by my side and I think I am even winning from the love triangle competition between me and her nanny, which is actually only an imaginary one. I don’t think her nanny is in some kind of evil plot to take away Daisy’s affection from her own mother, but so far I am glad that the favorite is obvious. I was too consumed with that thought that I didn’t realize that I was getting suck at being a sister.
I feel sorry for my sister. I think she loves me too much she expects a lot in return. Its not that I don’t love her the same way but 8 years is a pretty darn big gap. 8 years is like another generation. 8 years is like another mindset. 8 could be like another era. 8 years is the 80’s babies and a 90’s babies. She got a lot to catch up on me. And I can’t keep constantly looking back. Although I have tried. I tried my best. I do silly things no other 29 years old would do for her. There were too many times already I chose to leave my baby at home so that I can get uninterrupted time with her; talking about her future plans, give her a hard time for copying somebody else’s fashion style, dig her secrets about her boyfriend, you name it. But a sister who are also a mother can only do so much. With all the stories about marriages breaking up and children forsaken, it does scare me a little. Ok, a lot.
People don’t understand why some mothers can be so obsessed with the idea of trying to be there for the children. Its as if nothing is ever enough. I can’t speak for other mothers who has that kind of obsession, but when your children is born, they’re like an extension of you. All you see in them are yourselves that you don’t even mind not putting your pictures in the Facebook or your blog anymore, your babies pictures already tell many stories about you. You don’t want to bring a child into this world just because everybody else do, or because somebody expects you to, or because you forgot to protect yourself that night the magic happened. I have a lot of pities for babies. I mean, you look at them and they’re so helpless and have no idea how to protect themselves. It becomes your responsibility do that for them. Daisy nowadays like to put out her hand out and show the little cut that is not there anymore every time she sees someone she wants attention from. Its like, “Please look at my hand, I used to cut it a little and have sympathy in me”. Some other times she asks you to scratch for her. I tell you, its heartbreaking. The responsibility is a heavy weight that even when I think I am already doing too much, I still feel it isn’t enough. And when you have that realization, well, you overlook other things. And in this case, I overlooked my baby sister.
But I can’t go backwards to relate to her. And its just too bad that sometimes misunderstandings between us happen because she was born a little too late. Or I was born a little too soon. I told her I have grown up, and all I could do now is wait for her to grow up too. Someday she will be at the point where I am. And when she does, I hope I’ll still be in the same place. And then both our worlds will relate. Just like before. But until then, we just have to understand each other’s differences. She has to look ahead to understand me, and I have to remember my pasts to return the favor.
Until our paths crosses again.