Denise and Chino both at 4 years old.
Joaquin Luis Estrella Lopez, born July 8, 1998, 8ish in the morning. Chino turned 9 today. He's my first born and the sweetest boy I've ever known. He was his father's pride and joy. Regardless of what I have to say, Jerry was at his beck and call, granting anything his little heart desired.
It's usually with the first born, new parents are given the baptism of fire. It's here when they experience replacing late night happenings to night feedings, changing wardrobes to diapers, buying new cars to educational plans....a complete lifestyle overhaul. Being a first time mother, I was so insecure with my mothering skills. I literally begged Jerry not to leave me with Chino during the first few days from the hospital. I was fearful I might do something that might kill the baby.
Chino was a handful to begin with. As an infant, he was very sensitive to almost everything. I had to adjust my own diet so as not to affect my breast milk. He was allergic to chicken, chocolates, shellfish, dairy products, and eggs. Only the mildest of soap was allowed to touch his skin and scented laundry detergent with fabric softener were banned from the wash area. His skin would easily break into rash on contact with these chemicals. He was a colicky baby who endlessly cried between 7 to 9 am and a repeat from 5 to 7pm.
The turnover of yayas was embarrassing. In 4 months, I had a total of 6 yayas who were breaking down more often than the baby. To make matters worse, the paranoia of the first time parents was not making the situation easier to manage. It was then both Jerry and I decided it would be for the best interest of Chino that I become his full time nanny. As if there was any other option. Regardless, I was happy to take on the challenge.
When a family matter required me to leave for the States, I had to endure severe separation anxiety for five weeks. The first time I was apart from both Jerry and my son. It was unbearable. Jerry would describe that time as most difficult for Chino for he would cry and always ask for me. He would carry around my photo and show it to anyone who would care enough to listen, asking if anyone has seen his mama. Jerry would often find his son kissing the photo every so often. Not even my husband ever did that. Chino just turned one at that time.
Jerry and I decided it was the right time to put him in a playgroup when he turned 2. Timing was ideal since I needed to go back to corporate work to help augment the expenses at home. It was a big adjustment on both Chino's and my part for we have grown so close to each other. Nevertheless, the tie that bound mother and son was never broken even though the father attempted to sabotage it by spoiling him during mom’s frequent business travels.
My second pregnancy was unplanned. We were so concerned how Chino would respond to the latest addition to the family. As my belly expanded, I prepared Chino for the coming of his little brother and the new role he would assume. I empowered him to select which toys and clothes he would pass on to little Basti, and let him kiss and talk to my tummy every night before going to bed. He enjoyed being able to make decisions over his possessions and quickly he established his dominion over his baby brother.
Chino was 3 years old when Basti was born. Immediately, our fears of sibling rivalry were eased since it was evident that Chino immediately fell in love with his little brother. He baptized Basti with a new pet name, referring to the baby as Moymoy since according to kuya…….he looked like one….duh?
Playing with his new brother was always an incentive for Chino. All of a sudden, he looked forward to taking a bath and finishing his meals quickly. The moment he saw his baby brother, he immediately dropped the bottle habit and opted drinking his milk from the cup. He took his role as big brother seriously, fighting anyone who showed aggression towards Basti.
When I introduce Chino to friends, there is one common reaction… Chino inherited the good genes of the mother. He looks so much like me that no one can deny that he's mine. The only difference is he's much fairer than me. Being an advocate of the ‘improvement of race campaign,’ Jerry would often tease me that Chino would find it difficult to find a girlfriend who's whiter than him. As far as I'm concern, I didn’t mind as long as he doesn't make me a grandma in my forties.
I remember fondly when Chino was 4, I came across an old photo of mine when I was Chino's age. I was sporting very short hair and wearing chong-san pajamas. The only giveaway was that the child on the photo was a girl was the little brown doll she was carrying. I showed the photo to Chino and asked if he knew who that girl was. With confidence, he answered, "Oh, Mama, that's Chino when Chino was still a girl!"
At age 5, I had to break the terrible news to Chino that his father was seriously ill. In as much simplicity as I can muster, I tried to explain to him what cancer was and reassured him that everything would be all right. At a young age, he showed eagerness to help and be a part of the crisis. He asked me what he can do of to make it easy for me and papa. We hugged each other, "Just be a good boy and watch over Basti. Do well in school so I do not have to worry about you."
Six months into treatment, I got really upset with Chino. Amidst the chaos and commotions of rushing Jerry to the hospital, I found him in one corner busy playing with his robots as if the whole matter did not concern him. I asked him, "How come you don't seem to care whether your papa would come home or not?"
"Mama, Papa isn't papa anymore. He looks so different now, he doesn’t play with me anymore. He's always shouting and angry. I started missing Papa a long time ago." It was the first time Chino expressed his real emotions towards his father’s condition.
There are situations adults refused to acknowledge yet children are quick to notice. Jerry was indeed a different person. He was no longer the man I married or the father Chino and Basti have grown to know. Sad as it may be, it took a 6 year old to make me realize and accept the certainty of a loss and the impending role I would have to assume as a single mom.
Being the eldest, Chino fully witnessed the transition I went through. From being a Martha Stewart wife and mother who customized Halloween costumes and prepared party fanfares, décors, and food from scratch, to a traveling corporate executive who continually attempts to master the art of work life balance, to a cool fun loving parent who is capable of wrestling with two Taliban trained boys yet appreciates the rules of House of the Dead and fully respects the hierarchy of Pokemon action figures.
Last Mother's Day, Chino surprised me with a treat. He set up my room with a towel and a basin with a mix of water, my favorite lavender liquid soap, and bath salts. He and Basti were going to give me a foot spa. In spite of being at the receiving end of my evolving roles, mood swings and temper changes, Chino remains forgiving, loving and endearing. He has eased my fears and assured me that he would have no other mom but me. He depended on me for so many answers that only a male figure could address yet he's contented with what he has and never questioned the situation he was placed in.
When I come home from work, I would always be greeted by Chino’s hug and query, "Are you happy today, Mom?" Moments like this humble me. I am grateful for my children. God probably sees something good in me that He entrusted these 2 beautiful boys under my care.
Nine years ago, I gave birth to my first born, a beautiful, healthy, and whiter than white boy I named Chino. Being his mother is an honor and privilege. He’s a constant reminder of the many good qualities I possess and the weaknesses I yearn to overcome. A source of strength and inspiration to be the best that I can be in whatever role I take.
Happy 9th birthday to my mini me and best buddy! I love you very much!! MWAH!!
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