Happy third birthday! This letter is unforgivably late. I wasn't home on your birthday (I tried to FaceTime with you to greet you that day, but you ignored me, busy playing with the other iPad) and when I got home, I was beset with such debilitating jetlag I was sleeping in two time zones. By now, finally, 12 days after you turned 3, I have been able to rub a few neurons together to come up with a thoughtful letter that (hopefully) makes sense. Happy Birthday baby boy! Here goes.
Hooray for being three!!! My favorite thing you've learned to do in the past six months is to NOT throw fits anymore! Yes, well, not everyday anymore, anyway. Just sometimes na lang. If I have to take the iPad away from you, no more tantrums, I just count to three and you turn it off yourself. When it's time to eat, you run to wash your hands. When it's time to bathe, you even sing in the shower. I guess it's partly because you know by now that tantrums just lead to more trouble for you. And also you've discovered something that's much more effective. The "Mukmok Stance" Oh The Mukmok! If you want something you can't have, now you hunch your shoulders forward, bow your head, pout and say "hmph!" You say it over and over and louder and louder with this pathetically sad look, until someone makes you pansin, hugs you, and gives you what you want. Sometimes with variations like sitting in a corner or looking away. It is hilarious and irresistible, and let me tell you you are far more likely to get what you want with The Mukmok than with a tantrum. It never fails to make Daddy and me laugh. Best actor ka talaga. Well, may lahi kasi tayong artista.
I'm not saying you've lost your iron-willed stubbornness. Nope, your head is as hard as ever and once in a while, you still throw a fit when your frustration is just too much for you to control. Last weekend you got it in your head that you never want to ride in your car seat ever again. On the short drive from Katipunan to St. Ignatius, I told you it was time to sit with your Yaya in the back and you laughed and said, No. Like "Hahaha, Mom, you must be kidding. I rule the universe, there's no way I'm sitting in that carseat ever again." Of course you know your Mom took this as a challenge and strapped you in your chair anyway and you cried and wailed all the way to St. Ignatius. But the really cool thing about when you throw a tantrum is that you actually ask for a time out. We've had several conversations that go like this: "Waaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!" "Ramon! Use your words. What do you want?" "Taaahahahaym Ahahaha-hout!" At which point I escort you to your room (or any private corner of wherever we are at the moment) and you lie in bed alone until you're ready to obey. So I'm wondering now if you still see Time Out as a punishment because you used to hate them. The threat of a time out used to be enough to make you behave. Now it's something you ask for when you want to calm yourself down until you're ready to rejoin the rest of us. I think it's kind of clever, asking for a Time Out. I hope this means I'm helping you deal with your emotions in a healthy and positive way. Because normally after time out, when I come and get you you are all smiles through the tears, ready to say sorry and be good.
The photo above was taken in Ocean Park in Hong Kong last February and you were making mukmok because you didn't want to be strapped in a stroller anymore. You wanted to be carried. Which is, of course, unacceptable. The very reason we brought along a stroller was so that no one would have to carry you. So we were making you choose. Ride or Walk. You can only either ride in the stroller or walk on your own. And you were frowning and pouting and waiting for us to give in to the Carry option. Ate Weng was already willing, but Daddy and I said no. In the end, your highness's pride chose to WALK! Much to Desi's delight as she was able to just sit pretty in the stroller as we went all over Ocean Park. And you, stubborn boy, gamely walked EVERYWHERE! Up and down the Ocean Park paths, and soon you and I were lagging so far behind Daddy and the rest, even as we were going as fast as your little legs could take you. Finally Daddy took pity on you and lifted you up to his shoulders and that was your perch for much of the day. You clever, sneaky, cheeky little thing. You still got what you wanted in the end. And so help me, in spite of myself, I love you for it.
My next favorite new thing you do is dancing. Yay dancing! You discovered it when Tito Jimo brought his Knect to St. Igantius last New Years and my cousins and aunts and uncles all tried to beat each other at Dance Central. You watched so intently, and finally, after Ate Lia had a turn, you yelled "What about me!" We let you dance during Diego and Ia's battle (I think you caused Tito Diego to lose) and from then on you were hooked. Daddy bought a Knect the very next week, and it was all you could do to dance non-stop. You even sing along while dancing YMCA. And one of your favorites is the Macarena. Then we got Just Dance Disney Party and I could turn that game on and leave it on loop and you can entertain yourself, dancing non-stop for over an hour. I'm not even kidding. It was just recently that you figured out that the numbers and stars at the end of each song mean something, and that they are scores and there are winners and losers. Now, you really hate losing. And I think that's why you've forbidden me from dancing with you ever again. You would rather dance solo than have me dance beside you. But I don't really mind because watching you dance with the Knect is pure entertainment. Tito Carlo was asking me why I don't watch TV anymore. This is one of the reasons. Why watch TV when I have a live dance show in my room everyday?
You are a very happy, very clever boy. You now enjoy entertaining people by singing. If I ask you to sing, you gamely belt out a heartfelt rendition of A, B, C, followed by Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. And if the audience is appreciative, you go on to sing your whole repertoire which include The Eensy Weensy Spider, Row, Row, Row Your Boat, Amen Praise the Lord, the Doc McStuffin's theme song, and when you run out of songs, you just sing the ones you've already song over again. You know all your letters, you can point them out and identify them correctly. You can count to twelve (the teens still confuse you a bit) and point out each number on the face of a clock. You know all your colors (you're not color blind, as far as I can tell) and shapes and as Lola Vinchu pointed out, you like playing nerdy games with yourself, like, looking around you and pointing out the colors, shapes, numbers and letters that you see. When we FaceTimed with you while you were in Katipunan and Daddy and I were away, you were grabbing the phone from Tita Ia and showing off to us the things you know, without being asked. Mommy! Up! (you pointed up) Down! (you pointed down) Eyes! Ears! Nose! and so on. Oh and last Sunday I didn't miss your blowing the candles on your cake at St. Ignatius and my boy, you blew out each one all on your own. You are so big and smart already, you are more than ready to go to school in June and I do believe you will take school by storm.
My dearest Ramomo, my Mamon, my Ramonkey. Yesterday in Ninang Michelle's pool you kept yelling, "I'm a monkey! I'm a monkey!" And because that was how your uncles were known as when they were little, that really made me happy. But really, just seeing you, listening to you, watching you, being with you everyday makes me happy. Even when you are battling me, and actively trying to subvert my authority, I am proud of you. Your sweaty hugs and snotty kisses fill me with joy only a mother could feel from the love of a son. You don't know how excited I am to see what you will learn to do next, what you will set out to achieve, what kind of man you will be because I know you will be great, and good, and kind.
I love you forever and ever and always and always,
Mommy
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