Beyond my Little Boy’s “Kulit”

My husband and I love going to the grocery. And in the past months, we have noticed the little boy become interested as well.

While going to the grocery is therapeutic and considered a family bonding, the little boy thinks of it as a trip to the playground. While before he used to run around frantically, now he stays in one of the biggest push carts, occasionally reaching out for canned goods and boxed items. At times we get annoyed because it gets mixed up with the items we really intend to buy. Moreso, he stacks them up only to step or jump on it. At times, he throws a few stuff here and there. When we get to the toiletries area, he usually motions to his Papa to get him out of the cart and bring him to the step ladder instead – yes the ginormous ones men use to stock items on upper shelves. He climbs those up and down.

I used to get infuriated because the supposedly relaxing trip to the grocery becomes a run-after with the toddler. But over the weekend, I saw him take out these toy trains out of the display bin and line them up on the floor.

It made me realize that my child’s kulit is more than his annoying activities. It is, in fact a manifestation of learning. I was in awe at how the edges were connected, (Shocks! Magiging OC ata sya like Mama!) at least before the line up gets curved a little in the end. And since he’s lining up the trains, he could be thinking of actual train cabs on a rail. While I know he stacks up canned goods at my parents’ house, I now have better understanding of how aisles and aisles of canned items makes him happy. Same way with the boxes. And only now have it crossed my mind, maybe he was actually sorting the goods (like odd ones out) when he throws items out of the cart. And of course, his climbs are but his usual excercise and a nod to his kinesthetic intelligence.

As parents, sometimes, we’re too preoccupied with our own businesses and we tend to overlook what our kids do. Sometimes we diminish their activities into exhibitions of hyperactivity and tantrums, when in fact, these are actually moments of vital play and learning. And best is that, it is not something pushed on to them, but is self-initiated – thus appealing more to their imagination and senses.

I don’t really post my kid’s achievements or milestones or learnings on Social Media (because I believe he is beyond those), but I am making an exception on this one just to remind myself and some other parents out there to be patient and look further into their child’s kulit and play.

As for my little boy, I always always say this: Never lose your wonder. Never lose your fun.

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Letters from the Lunchbox

I usually come to the grocery with a list of things to buy. At the end of the day however, your heart was one of the random goodies I carried home.

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I think I fell in love with you at the grocery. I can’t actually determine when and where it was exactly, but it must be at the dairy when we battled over what to get – milk or yoghurt, but decided to get both instead. Or was it at the deli, we feasted over ham and sausages and bacon. Or maybe at the baking goods section where we got both pancake and brownie mixes because we’re the awesome twosome in baking. Was it perhaps in the cellar? When we acted drunk in front of a hundred bottled spirits. Perhaps it was in the fresh produce, when you tossed eggplants and zucchinis to our cart, thinking I’d learn to eat them.

Or maybe, there ‘s really no way of knowing because I was too happy riding the cart, both hands clasping the cold metal front like a koala bear hugging the trunk of a gum tree. You were a captain in control of a cruise ship.You pushed the cart with my weight added, maneuvering from one side to the other. People looked and stared at us, while they took sidesteps to let us pass. The corridors, the aisles, the gondolas – they were ports, stopovers of goodies.

Or I guess it’s because you made me feel grocery shopping is no chore at all. You actually made me want to live there. But I can’t, so I took our bags, and the memory, and you of course, back home with me – with the thought of falling further in love with you in the kitchen.