Re-posted from apples-pie.

I was a single mother for 2 years before I met and married my husband.

A year and a half of that was spent living under my parent’s house so it is no wonder they are very attached to my son (he is also the first grandchild) and vice versa. It made moving out of their house very difficult. To alleviate the pain that was caused, my parents and I agreed that my son would spend every weekend at the grandparents. I was hesitant really but I did not say no. I did not want to hurt my parent’s feelings or myself feel that I was somehow responsible for depriving them of their grandchild. And so it continued that way… even after I was married and gave birth to another child. I could still recall times wherein I would find myself calling my mom – asking if I could have my son for the weekend instead of having him spend time with them. It was the time that I often felt that I did not spend much time with my eldest as I was working 5 days a week and sometimes even more than 8 hours a day.

I cannot remember exactly when it started… everytime I would fetch my kid from my mom’s, it would be a battle of tears… a lot of tugging, crying, wailing, pulling, pushing. The crying would continue in the car, and even as we arrive home. My son would end up sleeping with tears in his eyes. My son did not want to go home with me anymore. He wanted lola. He wanted lolo. He wanted all the things that he could get and he could do at my parents house that he could not do or have at home. He’s already 3 and very smart. And I do my best to catch up and make sure he still grows up disciplined – like I and my other siblings were brought by our parents. But it is a struggle to discipline when the lessons taught are not consistent. I feel that most of the time my son is confused. His mom says “No” and he hears others say “Ok”.

A few days back, I had a serious talk with my mom regarding my son. She understood my challenges and agreed I had to keep my son in line or risk having him bring his insolence until he grows older. But – that was my mom. My father did not quite have the calm reaction that I was half-hoping for.

I did not intend to hurt anyone. I don’t do the things I need to do to deprive them of their precious grandchild. In the end – all it meant was that I was breaking my father’s heart. I just hope when I get my chance, it will not be too late to teach my kid the lessons I want to teach to him.