my girl

It is my fourth day back in the country. I relish being mom again. As I am still quite jet lagged (read: waking up at 2 or 3 am), I have more than ample time to prepare for Maxine's morning start off before her school bus picks her up. As she eats her breakfast, I brush her thick hair and tame it as much as I can. We do this in silence. Our bonding time together.
This morning though, Jun and I took her to school. For the first time, after much cajoling, she has agreed to use the wheeled back pack I bought for her some months ago. It seems that she avoided to use it because a 4th grader like her does not use a wheeled bag... that is reserved for kindergarten and lower grade pupils who wow each other with their colorfully decorated/ designed rolling bauls. She is an ate na. However, she has been complaining of how heavy her pack has been lately. The few days I have been back, I see how famished she seems to be when she eats and mystified at where all the food goes. I figure though it all gets expended as she goes to and fro bearing her burden of a bag, like a sherpa really. And so today was the bag's first outing. I got the bag from the back seat with full intention of bringing Maxine to her second floor classroom. When we were at the gate, she turned to me and said, "Dito na lang, Ma."
I remember my little girl wanting me to take her all the way to her homeroom.
Ouch.
"Maxine, this bag is so heavy, I will help you and take it up the stairs."
We reach the top of the flight of stairs to the second floor. She turned to me again and said,"Dito na lang, Ma. Ok na ako."
I felt a stab.
Back in the car, I tell Jun my little woeful tale.
I let out a sigh.
My daughter's growing up.