a child's hug

with my head officially fried from the heat and my body curling up in PMS and cramps, it's difficult for me to compose something coherent to write. i also blame the heat and PMS for the recent event. as i write this, my insides are being turned inside out. i'm stopping the tears from falling. if my son grows up a messed up little kid, i have no one else to blame.

jackjack was being quiet. too quiet. i stole a look and was greeted by my grinning 2-year-old with pieces of paper in his hands. colorful scraps of paper from his book about colors. i resisted the urge to yell at him.  after all, it was just a book, right?

in the end, resistance was futile. like a volcano, i erupted with all the anger i felt. i yelled. i said hateful words. i'm very disappointed in you. i don't like you right now. jackjack looked at me like i'm some kind of a monster. he reached out to me, and i swatted his hand away. i know, evil.

i ignored him until bedtime. i was afraid of what i might do and say.  he was constantly reaching out to me and saying sorry. i told him to leave me alone. i even locked him up in the bathroom for a couple of seconds to prove the point. this time, he got it.

he went to bed without saying goodnight. or a goodnight kiss. at that time, i couldnt care less. as soon as he fell asleep, i stepped out of the room. what was i thinking? it was just a book. i could put it back together with scotch tape. instead, i said those things to him like he murdered someone. NO, it wasnt just a book to me. as a stay-at-home mom, i dont have money of my own. i scrimp and save the weekly allowance i get from the hubby so i could buy something for jackjack at the second hand bookstore. that book he tore up, i bought that. the book represented the things i had to resist buying for myself, just so i can buy things for him. and he just tore it all up and showed the pieces of it proudly.

later that night, i couldnt sleep. the hubby kept telling me to let it go. by this time, i was crying uncontrollably, sure that i have pushed my son away and that he'll hate me for life. the hubby said to talk to jackjack, even if he's asleep. i apologized to my son in his sleep, hugging him, stroking his hair, telling him that i loved him beyond words.

did i feel better? NO.  i have not received the forgiveness i asked for.

this morning, he woke me up with a big hug with the words, "morning, mommy. sorry. sira book..." (sorry, i destroyed the book).  i apologized back, saying i love him. "wav you, mommy (love you, mommy)," he answered back. more than his apologies, i was grateful for his forgiveness. i may not deserve it, but i'm grateful for it.  his hug said it all.

what does your child's hug tell you? are there moments when you feel you dont deserve that hug?