I always knew he is going to be unlike any other.
The first two consecutive nights, the nurse rang me in requesting me to rush towards the NICU (post surgery with catheter on and IV inserted on my vein) only to find out that Atlas can't be pacified waking his nursery mates as they all wailed with him. So I hurriedly paced towards the breastfeeding room to nurse him. That moment the midwife handed him to me, he stopped crying.
I thought, ooh. We're in for an adventure, little darling.
The days will go by so quickly; heck yes they will keep us busy.
Nursing, burping, cradling, rearing, changing diapers, preparing solids, baths and naps, monthly check-ups to making sure they don't eat booger, baby-proofing every corner of the house, singing nursery rhymes and dancing to it, researching bargaining techniques, dealing with temper tantrums, and trying to figure out if we're parenting right.
Oh boy. Raising a spirited toddler;
these terrific, tender, or terrible little human to some....
but to me, he is two and transcendental.
It is indeed a challenging phase; a stage we could easily love and hate.
So fascinating, but is so very fleeting.
Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, and as I get a glimpse of him, I can't help but wish I could pin this moment and create more precious memories with him at such joyful stage.
How I wish we can slow down and be able to race with time.
But oh well. In less than 3 months, this world of ours is about to turn around.
It might have started long before I realized it did; long before he began refusing to be carried because in his words:
"no, walk lang. ayaw karga nanay, tatay lang. yayay tummy nanay"
("I'll walk nanay, I don't want you to carry me anymore. Just tatay.
Because your tummy might hurt")
How he became that coherent and so self-assured, like those times he corrects the lyrics, or demands for the food he wants to eat, or when he tells me about the fight he had with his playmate, I have the slightest clue.
All I know is, this delightful stage happened swiftly,
and without warning, he's no longer the baby I used to hold.
No longer the little one who made me selfishly question,
how long will the sleepless nights last;
how many times I still need to cut sleep to feed;
how much more time I have to give;
can I get any more restless than this;
will I ever take full control of my life again?
He is now my 2 years and 6 months old toddler,
who makes me want to ask for more time; plead and beg:
CAN WE SLOW DOWN A BIT?
I would love to hear that tiny voice every day;
see the cute little smile after a long day;
memorize the laughs and giggles;
get good night and good morning kisses;
cuddle and make him fit in my arms so perfectly;
cherish the silly conversations we share, the play time and bedtime stories,
our made up songs, the fights and power struggles;
and revel in the days when these are the only things that matter.
How lovely it would be if I can freeze this moment and hold on to his littleness for a long time; I wouldn't want any of this to end if I had a choice.
..but I'm glad life isn't giving me one.
Watching him grow has been the most gratifying thing I have caught a glimpse of in motherhood.
When I thought I was showing him life, it's me who sees it more openly; it's actually us.
Each time we teach them to be gentle, kind, bold, courageous and wise,
it's us who become so much more.
Nothing can ever make moving on from this beautiful phase easier,
even if the days ahead of us promise a million other things that are just as amazing.
But looking at how my little Atlas turned out to be gives me enough confidence and faith that there's nothing like the beauty and wonder the future holds.
...And I can't wait to experience it everyday and all over again with our growing family.