I Still Want To Be Like Mom

Posted by:




I stumbled upon an old blog post (Read it here! Written in 2004) about how I wanted to be a mom, and more specifically, like my mom. I wrote it almost 14 years ago. The way I wrote it is embarrassing (I’d like to think my writing has improved with time), but everything I shared is true. Candidly written, my older posts are like a personal diary of sorts.

I was twenty years old when I wrote it, and had big dreams. Everything is still true. And to some extent, some things did come true. I never worked with the UN (but got something better, and got to visit the UN many times), I never became an anthropologist, or an urban planner (but it could still happen). I wanted to be a mother one day – and lo and behold, I’ve been blessed with three little ones.

Mikey's photo <3

Now, am I like my Mom? In many ways, I can hear her voice when I talk to the kids. I use her lines. I copy her style. (Especially when angry). I even put hearts on their open-faced peanut butter sandwiches like my Mom used to.

She did not allow us to watch television during the week. We got to watch tv on weekends. We have adapted that too. No gadgets or tv until Friday afternoon. There were certain things we could not eat (and of course, other healthier-maybe things which we could eat). We couldn’t order drinks when we ate out, but had bottomless water. The boys can only have treats (cookies, chips, juice) on weekends too.

A lot of my parent’s rules make so much sense – all the more now that we’re implementing similar rules.

Now, not everything worked out the way I hoped it would (definitely not seeing my barkada at the tiangge any time soon, and I don’t have Ate Cristy either), but I do try to be like her, because she really is the best mother ever. And if I want the best for my kids, then I’ll try my best to be like the best.


I’ve always known how blessed I am to have such great parents. Growing up, we knew we had overflowing love, support, and security. As we got older, they became our friends. We loved hanging out with our parents. They accepted us, our friends, our choices. They cheered us on when we succeeded, embraced us when we failed. And they come running when we call for help.

It’s been a month since we’ve had K, and a month since we’ve had my parents here. Cannot be more grateful for having them – feeding the boys, bathing the boys, entertaining the boys, and putting the boys to sleep with their regular routine. And carrying K, bathing K, burping K, changing K. And really just being here. For my sanity.

Now, am sure we’ll manage well when they go home, but it’s always nice having them close by.


So, it’s settled that I’ve got the best mom. But she is also my best friend. Perhaps that is the case for most mothers/daughters. If I can be half the woman she is, then J, In, and K will be so lucky. I’d like them to trust us the same way, to involve us in their lives and loves the same way.

And I promise you, once my kids get older (old enough to brush their own teeth properly, monitor their health, and make sound decisions), I’ll be eating ice cream cake with them too – at 10am on a Tuesday morning. (Yes, mom and I finished the ice cream cake. And she is still in a hot pink shawl)

(Dad deserves his own post too. Next time.)