My 8-list: Of why I want kids (or why I will totally shun them for eternity)

My niece Cayenne (better known as Memai to the family's circle of friends) celebrated her birthday week in Singapore (with a weekend side trip to Malaysia) last April. While she was here, I had a chance to reflect on and ascertain my parenthood goals.

Here's my list of eight reasons why I love hate kids: 

8. They talk funny. And I mean, hilarious funny.

"Nandito ako ngayon sa ibang Singapore." She repeated to her lola over the phone, "Sa ibang Singapore." 

And we all wondered: "Eh saan kaya yung parehong Singapore?" LOL!

Something that I also found out is that the word "kanina" has quite a peculiar meaning in her vocabulary. Apparently, for this five-year-old, "kanina" could be any point in time from the day she was born to the moment right before she told her story. She could be talking about what they did in daycare center last month like it happened kanina. And this tita be like: "Huh?"

7. They are either one's best customer...

One month before, the bagets had already told me, in a conspiratorial whisper, how she envisioned her birthday cake: "May airplane na yellow and white."

Did she just say she wanted a Cebu Pacific airplane on her cake?! No. She did not! I hated that airline with a passion. But of course, Memai didn't know that.

In any case, the tita will give the little girl the birthday cake that she wished for.

Nice, right?

Airplane, yellow, white. A friend by the name of Brian graciously designed a cake with these specifications; thankfully, without any references to the airplane design of that airline that I love to hate.

Cayenne was pleased with it. And I saw how, very much like I did, she relished the whole birthday cake ceremony - from the singing of the birthday song to closing her eyes while making her birthday wish to cutting the cake and sharing it with her guests.

Happy birthday, Cayenne!

Suffice it to say that the birthday dinner was a definite success. Props to the party planner who pulled it off. Ehem... Ehem...



6. ...Or they're the worst customer ever. 

Fast forward to a rather hot Saturday morning at Gardens by the Bay.

Aiyoo! Our Cayenne turned into the most disagreeable imp. She didn't want to walk around the park and she didn't want to pose for photos at all. She complained about the heat and demanded for a drink all the time.

Alright, so maybe Gardens by the Bay is not a kiddie hang-out.

The following day, we went to Universal Studios Singapore (USS). I would have thought that theme park would be kid heaven. But, Cayenne was at it again with her clamoring for a drink, demanding to be carried instead of walking on her own and perennially complaining about the heat. I swear it took a great ounce of my adult patience not to tell her off: Well, this is Singapore, Memai. For Christ's sake, it is always this hot here!

The trip to USS wasn't a total waste. In fairness, she did have some favorites among the attractions at the park - the Sesame Street Spaghetti Space Chase, the Shrek 4-D Adventure and the Magic Potion Spin, a mini-Ferris wheel. She also had a fun time at Donkey Live where she was one of only two audience participants who had the privilege of talking to Donkey.

5. They take up bed space. (And they wet the bed!)

For the past seven years that I've been living abroad, I've had my own room with a queen-size bed all to myself.

Then this girl came to visit and invaded my space.

A normal adult would sleep in parallel with the rest of the people sleeping on the same bed. Cayenne starts in a proper parallel position and turns in every direction, until she has turned over and occupied practically every inch of sleeping space.

And oh, she has this thing that she wakes up in the middle of the night, crying as if from a bad dream. Then my sister-in-law and I would prod her to tell us what she wanted.

May masakit ba sa 'yo? Ano? Sniffling.

Gutom ka ba? More sniffling.

Iihi ka? She would answer with another monosyllable that no linguist could possibly identify the meaning of.

Most of the time, I'd be so dead-tired that I'd rather just sleep through that whole guessing game. It's one of those tita perks - When the going gets tough, the tough can go back to sleep. Har har har! Let the parents take over.

But probably the worst that Cayenne ever did on my bed was that one night when she (and she admitted this the day after) intentionally wet the bed because she was feeling too lazy to ask to be taken to the toilet. Alamak! Did I give her a lecture.

Wag na wag mo nang uulitin yan ha, Memai! I didn't raise my voice but she knew I was mad about it.

4. They mess up the schedule. They don't wake up on time.

And it takes forever to convince the kids to take a bath, brush the teeth, drink the vitamins, get dressed.

Cayenne, aalis na ako. Ikaw na lang ang 'di pa bihis. Bahala ka. Naghihintay na si Kung Fu Panda sa USS.

How many versions of the "I'm going now, I'll leave you here" statements do I have to use to get this kid going?!

Blame it on this YouTube video, that online game or whatever is on the tablet that she's got her eyes glued on. Boo!

3. They ask without asking.

"It's so fluffy, I'm gonna die!"

She just hugged the fluffy unicorn. And my brother, that Despicable Me Gru-size of a man bought it. In a snap.

I saw what you did there, Memai, I saw it.

But here's another tita perk: I can make myself immune to that kind of hocus pocus. Hahaha!

Although I can also be guilty of spoiling her (God knows I scour toys and clothes sales for stuff I thought she would have liked.), I've never bought her anything on a whim. When I am with her in a shopping mall, I steer her clear out of the way of toy displays to avoid any unfortunate scenes. =)

But I guess it's not just about seeing what the kid wants without him/her asking. It's also about anticipating what a kid needs at any point in time. On that aspect, I must admit - this self-confessed heartless tita has a lot of learning to do.

2. They cry and they make you drop everything at the sound of their tears.

Back to that afternoon at USS. We were waiting in the queue to get into the Transformers ride. Cayenne was excited that she even gamely posed for a photo, wearing her 3D glasses.

She had already survived Enchanted Airways roller coaster, Puss in Boots' Giant Journey, Magic Potion Spin, and the vertigo-inducing Accelerator - theme park rides that I avoid like the plague (except maybe the Accelerator, 'coz I kinda like that one). I would have thought this 3D ride would be a breeze to her. Or at most, a gale.

Nope. It turned out to be a storm for her - a very scary storm.

She cried the minute the car started turning roughly and she was crying until the end of the ride. It wasn't like one of her tantrum episodes. She was crying because she was really, truly, genuinely scared. I was sitting next to her and I was never the bravest person in the world. Heck, I was scared of that ride too. I remember the first time I rode the Transformers; I was screaming at the top of my lungs.

But at that moment, upon hearing the sound of fear in Memai's tears, I completely forgot my own fears, bottled up all my screams and focused on pacifying the girl. I held her hand and, like a mantra, and maybe as a means to calm the restless beating of my own heart, I told her over and over: "Patapos na o. Malapit na. Konti na lang. Patapos na."

How long was the duration of that ride? Five minutes or less, maybe. The longest five minutes of my life! For Memai, it was probably the longest, longest five minutes of hers.

1. They make you feel like you're the best thing that ever happened to them.

Memai was in Singapore for nine days - five of which were weekdays. Since her parents were with her anyway, I didn't take a leave from work anymore. During the day, they went their own merry way to the touristy parts of town - Singapore Zoo, Little India, Science Center, Snow City and Sentosa Island. So I only get to meet them for dinner in the evening once I'm out of the office.

Every single time I met them for dinner, the bagets would be so delighted to see me.

Didn't we just see each other only nine hours ago before I went to the office?

She would flash her brightest smile to me as if seeing me was one of the wonderful, if not the most wonderful, discoveries she's had that day. With a bounce in her step and a lilt in her voice, she would tell me everything that happened "kanina" in the order of whichever came to her mind first, each sentence beginning with "Tita Ninang". She always sat next to me on the MRT, snuggling to me because she feels cold. In no time, she would fall asleep in my arms, exhausted from the day's adventure. But when we get off the train and walk to our HDB block, she would be back to her energetic self, negotiating with me how many turns on the playground slide she can do before we go up the building to our floor.

Three! She would say.

My reply: One.

Two?

Okay. Two, no more, no less.

She's a good kid. She went for her two turns on the slide and gladly walked home with the adults after. In her mind, she firmly believed that tomorrow, we would take her to the playground again. And that would be the best thing that could ever happen.

The fact is: Having Cayenne around was the best thing that has ever happened to me and to every adult in our family in the last five years. I doubt anyone would disagree.