Journey of the Soul

The writer needs no introduction. He is well respected in the blog community as a teacher and as a parent.

This article that he wrote in his blog a few months back about his daughter must have answered an issue that is oftentimes ignored by some parents in their effort to make their children happy–provide them luxury or not.

What values? Cash or in kind?
by Titorolly

How much luxury should a parent allow his/her child? I ask this because I’ve seen students of ours who have very expensive cellphones, sometimes even having two. I don’t know why they need to have two but they do. Maybe one for texting, another, (Sun) for calling.

I am not writing this to criticize parents who have the luxury of buying their children the latest cellphone and whatever technological gadget there is.

How one raises his/her child(ren) is entirely up to himself/herself. No one has the right formula in rearing kids. I know I don’t.

How one raises his/her child(ren) is entirely up to himself/herself. No one has the right formula in rearing kids. I know I don’t. I am writing this because as always, I want to share my thoughts with my children and their children’s children on what I think and what guidelines I follow in life.

One of my daughters wanted to buy a new cellphone. (I know she’d hate me for sharing this. She even dreads her coming birthday knowing I’d be writing about her. ) She knew I wouldn’t give her money so she’s using her own. Her godmother arrived from the States and since they haven’t seen each other for a long time, decided to give her cash. Now, adding to that amount her own savings, she, indeed, can buy a second-hand phone.

My wife was okay with it. However, when given the chance, since my daughter never mentioned it to me, I told her I have reservations about her purchasing another cellphone. What for? It’s not that it’s a necessity. More than anything else, it is merely a status symbol. And because it is, you have to flaunt it. Always keep it visible to let everyone know you have an expensive phone. Otherwise, why need one if you just keep it in your pocket, right? Remember, its a status symbol. If yor phone is not visible, ergo, you don’t have your status? Now, when did that ever become a virtue? You are just inviting pickpockets and probably endangering your life that way. When everybody else appears to be living in abject poverty, I think, it is a sin to flaunt your material possessions.

One of my apprehensions in having my kids study in a school where there are plenty of rich kids is that my children may get their penchant for material things. My wife and I have always been simple people. My kids know that. They know that while we do not live in dire straits, we only have enough for our needs. Maybe give in to a few luxury here and there but that would be on a very lucky day. i have been using the same cellphone for years. I fear of accidentally leaving it on the restaurant not because it might get stolen, but because the waiter might think its trash and throw it down the toilet in disgust. My wife only had her cellphone just recently because she “inherited” my eldest daughter’s. My eldest daughter is now in college and without me knowing it, bought her own brand new cellphone from her own pocket.

Back to having expensive cellphones. Maybe these teen agers think its part of the packaging these days. Mabye that comes with wealth. If you have it, why deprive your child, right? Parents only want the very best for their children. However, I am of the impression that this not need to be so. I shall remain firm that if there’s a need for a cellphone, all you need is a phone that works. That especially holds true if you’re a student. If it’s good for texting and you can use it to call somebody else, that’s good enough. Maybe teeners believe that having a “neat” cellphone is part of a good packaging for oneself. But what it is to me is that the packaging of a student is not what he/she has but what is stored in her brain. Do all of the lessons stick to their heards? Do they make their assignments, give their projects in time, maintain a good grade? Do others perceive them to be good kids? Are they respectful? Are they aware of their roots? Are they sensitive to the issues that concern the common man? Are they sympathetic to those in need? Are they independent? For me, these are the ones that comprise the packaging of a good student. If my children can say yes to all these, then I shall be a happy parent.

PS

In fairness to my obedient kid, she’s passing on this one. She didn’t buy the phone. I love her so much.

by JonLimjap

(The author is a daddy. Find out what he felt when his baby did not recognize him. To know more about this author, view his profile).

Last night I went home at 1 AM.

It was starting to be “normal.” For the past month I couldn’t blog or read or do much anything because of work. I’ve been going home at 9 PM the earliest, and sometimes I go home at around 2 or 3 AM. In one of those four weekends I spent my Saturday and Sunday night in the office.

I thought there wasn’t anything wrong about it. My wife Melynn has been supportive and doesn’t nag me about the fact though she complains about it once in a while. I thought it was something that “we could all get used to.” Besides, my work pattern has been like this when we were still courting. Then, overnights were “normal” to me.

But last night the matter was shoved right into my face.

As I entered the room and changed clothes, Melynn woke up, greeted me, then got up and told me to watch over CJ who was sleeping soundly on her side of the bed. She had to go to the bathroom. As she left I continued changing without turning the lights on. I didn’t want to rouse CJ.

However a few minutes later, CJ rolled over, apparently looking for her mommy. She usually notices it when mommy gets up, and that was normal, since Melynn still breastfeeds her in bed. Then, I would only have to pat her tummy or her butt and hum a lullaby to put her back to sleep. If that didn’t work, I’d pick her up and lull her in my arms. It worked a hundred times before, specially during her first six months.

So I tried patting her. It didn’t work. Her thrashing around trying to grope for mommy in the darkness only became more vigorous. Finally I decided to pick her up. That’s when things turned worse. She didn’t recognize me, and her sobs were getting louder and louder.

I decided to turn the lights on to see if the sight of her daddy carrying her would stop her from crying. As I turned on the light she squirmed with the sudden brightness, but what pained me was when she looked at me. She saw me, and looked as though she didn’t recognize me. My baby, whose signature smile always brightened my long tired day after coming home from work once I entered our front door, squealed this time. It’s as though she doesn’t know me. She squealed again, then cried harder, struggling to free herself from the arms of the “unknown” man holding her.

As the minutes drew longer and her squeals grew louder, my sister in the room beside ours and my mother both rushed to our room to see what was happening. At that same time, Melynn entered our room. Upon seeing mommy, CJ extended her hands towards her, and then quieted a bit, still sobbing while mommy, tita and lola all tried to calm her down.

My baby didn’t recognize me. That stabbed me right through the heart.

My baby didn’t recognize me. That stabbed me right through the heart.

When I woke up this morning CJ was already doing her thing. She’d roll around all over the bed, waiting for mommy and daddy to get up and get her. When I said goodmorning to her, again I saw her signature smile. We played a little bit; tickling her always did wonders. She was smiling at me again. But I know that that smile will last only as long as she knows that I will be there for her.

I guess I need to work on doing that, and set my priorities straight. Perhaps it’s time to ask myself whether the price I am paying for some things I deem important are worth it.

I love you CJ. We’ll find a way to bring daddy home earlier.

For more of this author, visit his webpage.

Parenting