Another mission checked off our family’s list this year—we finally renewed our passports! It had been over a decade since we last had them updated, and this time, it was extra special because our youngest applied for his very first passport. Back when we were just a family of three, our first (and last) trip abroad was to Hong Kong. Our eldest was just a year old then. Since that trip, life got busy, and renewing our passports kept getting pushed back—year after year. Booking a passport appointment these days isn’t exactly a walk in the park. Everything has to be done online, and every time I checked the DFA website, the slots in the satellite office near us were always fully booked. Eventually, I gave up trying—until a colleague mentioned DFA San Pablo City in Laguna. It's about an hour and a half (or two, depending on traffic) from our place. Out of curiosity, I checked their schedule and, to my surprise, found several open slots. I didn’t waste a second—I booked o...
This
coming Sunday, May 11, 2025—just before the national elections—we'll be
celebrating Mother’s Day. And in this simple blog, I dedicate my words to all
parents, especially mothers, like my own. This is a tribute born out of
experience—mine, and many others who grew up at the same time I did.
Growing
up in the '90s, I often questioned why our parents had to be so strict. Why
couldn’t we join every school field trip? Why did they hesitate to let us hang
out late with friends? And why were they so scared when we started having
romantic relationships? Back then, I didn’t understand the fear behind their
rules. Now I do.
They
weren’t just being controlling. They were guarding the futures they had
sacrificed so much for. They worried that we might get pregnant too young, lose
focus, or fail to finish college. But we didn’t. My siblings and I all
graduated before starting our own families—something I now realize was a dream
come true for our parents.
Our
parents were also strict about money—because there was barely enough of it. I
remember us living in a rented house, borrowing money from relatives to pay
tuition or buy food. Sometimes they helped; sometimes they didn’t. There were
school activities our parents couldn’t attend—not because they didn’t care, but
because they had to work. They fought often. They sacrificed personal needs
just to keep us afloat. My parents couldn’t even afford to buy themselves new
underwear. We wore the same uniforms and socks multiple times a week, washing
them every night just to get through.
Only
now, as a parent myself, do I fully understand the depth of their sacrifices.
And the love behind every rule.
I
used to think my mom had favorites. As a child, it felt like my older sister or
brother got more of her attention. I remember one of the rare times she got
angry with me—it was during a quarrel with my sister. Other than that, she was
always working, always tired, always trying to make ends meet.
Now
I understand what I couldn't then: attention isn’t always favoritism.
Sometimes, parents give more to the child who needs it most. Maybe you were the
independent one, so they trusted you could handle more. Children are all
different—some are shy, others are outspoken; some are resilient, others are
fragile. Parenting isn’t about fairness in quantity—it’s about giving what each
child needs most. And that, I now realize, is love in its purest form.
I
also understand now why our parents feared early relationships. Love is
powerful. It can uplift, but it can also derail. Some young girls get pregnant
and are forced to grow up too soon, carrying not just a baby, but the weight of
missed opportunities. In a country like ours, where opportunities are already
scarce even for college graduates, the consequences are lifelong. Our parents
just wanted us to be ready—to be strong before life got harder.
As
a mother today, I’ve chosen to approach parenting with more openness. I want my
children to feel that they can talk to me, even about difficult things. I
explain why some rules exist instead of just saying “no.” And to my surprise,
they understand. We talk about school, friendships—even crushes. I want to be
the one they run to when they're hurting or when they’re happiest. I want to be
present in their milestones, not just physically but emotionally.
Unlike
our parents, I am now in a better position to enjoy a work-life balance. I can
be more present, and that’s something I don’t take for granted. But this life I
live now wouldn't be possible if I hadn’t listened to my parents back then, and
if I hadn’t learned from the struggles, we all faced as a family.
I
am far from being a perfect mother. I still make mistakes. But I believe there
is as much to learn from our children as there is to teach. They are more
understanding than we think. When we treat them with respect and honesty, they
return it with trust and love.
So,
this Mother’s Day, I celebrate not just myself, but the generations of parents
before me who did their best with what they had. I celebrate my mother (Mommy
Eya), who gave us everything even when she had nothing. I honor her sacrifices,
her quiet strength, and the lessons she taught through her struggles.
To
all mothers and parents—this day is for you. Thank you for your love, even when
we didn’t understand it. And to my fellow moms, may we continue to grow, to
listen, and to love our children in a way that helps them thrive not just
today, but long after we are gone.
#LessonsFromMyMother
#90sKidParentingStyle
#ModernMomJourney
#MotherhoodReflections
#MomLife
#GratitudeToMoms
#FamilyFirst
#ParentingThenAndNow
#MotherhoodMatters
#WorkLifeBalance
#TributeToMothers
#GenerationalWisdom
#RaisingWithLove
#MomConfessions
#StrongMoms
#OpenParenting
#LoveAndSacrifice #ParentingWithLove #FromDaughterToMom #MothersDay2025
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