Paula had a fever last week. And as soon as she got better, we had an experiment… Tadah! Paula posing as a model, and I trying hard to be a make-up artist!
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Paula, the conqueror, has taken over everything… The tablet included! And the low def camera didn’t stop her from dominating… As she and Gabby dominate my heart with these!
And boy, did I not tell you her eyes gave up on her? Not once…
But twice!
Like this:
Just testing some great apps! Lol! (while Paula practices reading by karaoke-singing on YouTube at this godly hour!)
Looking good in low definition/resolution images…
Nobody wants any of these two get upset.
With my cousin…
I bet most people never cared about sleeping positions until they become parents. That — based on my experience.
Neither Gabby nor Paula as a baby made “free fall” a habit — a sleeping position where a person lays on his/her front, the front facing the bed. But I would normally do that: laying my baby tummy-down on my tummy, when she’s not comfortable.
Like today, I haven’t slept at all and it’s already 4 am. Gabby’s been waking up every 10-30 minutes or so, always almost crying before I held her up.
I think that position helps because my heat would relieve whatever cold my baby is feeling and the pressure on her tummy helps suppress any pain. I’m so sleepy and I have to go to Makati from Laguna a few hours from now. Unfortunately, I have to keep awake to ensure that Gabby gets a good night sleep. Normal mommy duties, just like any night.
So just sharing how it looks like!
Forgive me for that stressful look.
Since Paula learned how to read, she’s been bugging me with a lot of things… And one most recently was to join an event for kids this Easter Sunday, after reading an ad from a local mall.
Who’s not to say “yes” to a rare request? Besides, she’s been very shy especially during her first year in school. And you won’t believe that for a big girl like her, she was an easy target of bullying.
Allow me to explain a bit… Because she was too young and then and I wasn’t so sure that she’s ready for school, I decided to send her to day care for her first year. It’s like a trial period. And because I was out to work and I have school, I wasn’t able to look after her — sending her to class and fetching her were a yaya’s task. And I was blessed to have a good yaya then… One whom she really considered an “Ate”. I wanted her to socialize, meet kids of her age and have fun. But it wasn’t what I expected. It was great, she has truly learned in the end… But it was a hostile environment for one who’s got a yaya. Parents are usually allowed to stay by the window, coaching their kids as they undertake their daily activities. And I’ve learned that kids with their parents are always more confident and thus, bullier — because they’ve got a mommy or a daddy, and sometimes even both, as private armies. In other words, kids with their parents around are literally SMARTER.
One of her classmates remarked, “Wala ka namang Mommy eh.” That I was teary eyed hearing that awful story from her. And when school was finally over, I managed to accompany her to class on days when no subject was scheduled for finals. And one day I was even there waiting outside, she turned to me:
Paula (teary eyed): Mommy, inaaway na naman ako classmate ko.
Me (trying not to lose my cool): Sabihin mo nandito Mommy mo.
Paula walked away and returned after a few seconds…
Paula: Eh sabi niya andito din Mommy niya.
Me: (silent… controlling my temper… The guts of that kid!)
Despite the bullying, she survived her first year. And just this year, I sent her to a private school where parents are only allowed to send their kids at the gates. So, that gave her better chances at improving her self-confidence. True enough, she became more confident, independent, and a whole lot smarter. Her teachers are even recommending her for Grade 1, instead of taking the next level which is Prep.
So having that sort of background, I am in no position to refuse an offer from her to join not just any activity, but a competition… An Easter Bunny Carnival Costume Contest (dunno if I got that right, doesn’t sound good to me).
I promised her we were going. Without any preparation, except from some googling for costume idea, I texted my brother’s girlfriend to seek help. So that makes us four already — me, Paula, my bro’s gf, and my bro (because I brought his gf in). Incidentally, my mother just got back from Cebu where she attended the funeral of my Uncle (eternal rest grant unto him…). She brought with her some summer dresses that my Auntie is making in Toledo for export in the U.S. That was Saturday. I mentioned to Kae, my bro’s gf, that I saw some pics of an Easter parade in NYC where people wear big hats with gardens on them. And she suggested we make a head dress. Come Easter Sunday, my other brother decided to come with us because I was bringing Gabrielle with us. That makes six of us.
We got to the mall at 1pm, without anything but the dress and the hat that Kae brought. The parade was scheduled for 2pm, so we really had to hurry. My bro and his gf took care of the registration, 5 minutes before start, while I raced with time making the head dress.
PREPPING UP! Before this, she only had red lipstick and some blush on. Because I heard the other mommy panicking over her daughter's make up, I had to panic too! Twas time for some dark brown eyeshadow.
;
THE RAMP. Paula gracing the stage with her summer dress and our 15-minute head dress. Yes, it had big yellow bunny ears and eggs on the nest. She had brown booty sandals to match her big peasant hat (which did so accidentally). See her bunny pose in the middle!
There was some magic show while the judges deliberate and finalize their decision. It was a long wait, especially for a 5-year old like Paula. Some judges pointing at her, asking for her number, was a good sign.
THE CONTESTANTS. These kids were vying for the title "Wackiest", "Most Colorful", and the "Cutest" Bunny Carnival Costume.
THE SHOW. Perhaps Paula would make a good actress (as opposed to her mommy)... Despite her repulsion to having to wear the heavy head dress again, she managed some great smiles. They'd given away bunny head bands eventually, which gave her some good excuse to remove the burden.
Paula gaining some weight after her big loss is becoming more apparent. She was too skinny until school finally ended.
THE VICTOR. Yay! She won her category -- CUTEST Bunny Carnival Costume!
Oh yeah we brought home some gift certificates and were guilty of shopping right after. It was fun and rewarding despite the lack of preparation. But the exposure and experience that Paula had was priceless, not to mention the confidence boost that no amount of money can ever buy.
BUNNY PHONE. My phone should have joined, too! Niclaus (my phone's name) looks good with its purple costume (although it looks blue here because of the poor lighting).
Btw, thanks to Kae for also being our camera person! Great pics you got there!
Like this:
Being a second-time mom doesn’t make it less exciting. You get to be as proud for every milestone… And I guess that goes for every mother for each of her child. Having previous experience doesn’t make one an expert — only makes you stronger and more confident.
Making the most of the summer vacation, we take her out as often as we can. It's funny how she tries so hard not to sleep -- she loves the change of scenery.
When you become a parent, you become more vulnerable.
You fear not only for yourself — but more for your child. And that leaves you always anxious and worried, especially when you’re away from your child. But as time goes by, you become stronger… trusting that Someone out there will take care of everything.
Being a parent does not only mean challenges. As a parent, you will get to experience the best of emotions — love, joy, and happiness. You get to find sense in every little thing there is and feel very proud of small changes.
Gabby began to speak her first word when she was three months old — making her best efforts to make a sound that doesn’t make sense even to herself. Three months after that, I think she’s starting to say something that makes sense to her.
She’s probably been saying it for a long time but not too clearly… And that I just started to notice
just recently. Yes, she knows now how to say Mama, Mammy, and Mimi — in random order. When she’s not too hurt and is probably just calling my attention, she blurts out Mammy and Mama. And when she’s a bit alarmed or hurt (like her sleep disturbed), she wails “Mimi”. Oh yeah when she’s totally angry she calls out “Wah” like Sen. Miriam — although not in a similar manner.
So that makes me a very proud mother. She calls my name, looking at me, with her hands almost like reaching. And the joy is too overwhelming it almost breaks my heart.
"Taking pics of me again?" Gabby at 6 months!
SWEET TOOTH. Chocolates and mallows are sweet -- and so is Gabby.
Most people observe how observant she is — staring at things like she understands them. She watches the impeachment trial too and perhaps she can’t wait for Congress’ session to resume. And whenever she sees good food, she tries to express her excitement by making that “aye” look and doing some kicking motions.
I know, I know! Sweets like these are not good for the baby. But we only allow her to taste and not feed.
VOILA! Here's how she looks after a short bout with the chocolate and sugar-coated mallows!
You know that look? That’s DISAPPOINTMENT. “Please give me more…”
Like this:
The kids and I had great fun today…
Yes, that’s a girl who looks just like a good looking boy! We call her Gabby, though my mom fondly calls her Chun Chin!
And because her ate refused to fix our bed, she ended up being in the clothes bin! She looked wonderful, didn’t she? And one more…
Being a good girl that she is, she didn’t put up a fight with me for putting her into such “compromising” position. Lol.
Paula had great fun too! But no photo ops as of today. She’s kinda allergic to shower so she’s better off cam.
Til next time!
Like this:
There is no definition of love, except for the description provided in the Bible (1 Corinthians 13:4-8)
But songs and experience tell us there are different ways of loving a person, and they can be classified into three:
1. It means holding on. It’s obvious, especially if the other person feels the same way. But holding on when you’re unsure about his/her feelings means martyrdom.
2. It means letting go. And you have no choice if he/she doesn’t want you anymore. Forcing yourself would only hurt you more. So better let go and claim you’ve given up on him/her before he/she gave up on you.
3. Let it be. In gay lingo, it means kebs. If he/she loves you, then good for you. If he/she doesn’t, then good for you, too. You’d better not waste your time with the wrong person. And thank him/her you can finally move on to a better someone.
I do like Adele’s Someone Like You. But I don’t agree in finding someone like that person. Don’t you think you need someone better?
I know, this sounds bitter all together. But maybe, taking all these three ways within the context of love in the Bible means something really good. Holding on means forgiveness, that you’d still be a good Samaritan despite what the other person did. Letting go means patience, believing that someone you deserve will come — that “someone” may mean a better “you” or a better “one” for you. And letting it be means acceptance… And faith that Someone much greater than we are is in charge.
Or maybe all these is wrong analysis. Remember, that bible verse concluded that “Love never fails.”
So if it fails, it’s not love?
I don’t know but it does make sense. Why allow yourself to be so hurt about love when there’s no love to speak of? You were hurt for something else not love. And it does happen. We get hurt because we stumble, we get knocked off, we fail. We get hurt for so many possible reasons… For investing time and ambitions to the wrong person. But rejoice! Love will come your way. And perhaps, then, you can call it “first love”.
Like this:
Oh yeah, you’ve just awoken from slumber while I have been awake since 10 am yesterday (now it seemed i overslept yesterday but no… Got to bed at 3 am, like I hope to do today)…
Because I can’t tell you because you won’t be able to understand just yet…
And because you’ve gone asleep again after 9 long minutes…
I just want to tell you that I feel you’ll grow up very beautiful… And your natural lip color is too nice that it’s making me envious.
That sometimes I would wish that you’d grow up fast so you won’t be as vulnerable anymore…
That you’d be able to voice out what you think of the impeachment trial because you often watch the proceedings attentively…
That I won’t be always uneasy when I’m everything but not watching after you…
But don’t grow up just yet…
I want to savor every minute being with the little you…
Me always wanting to take care of you…
Me baby sitting you…
Just me loving you like every mother would.
I love you, Gabrielle. And you can’t say, when you grow up, that you don’t remember me telling you that. Because you won’t have any memory of it — just a proof that I did say that when you were helpless and delicate and so precious to me. You won’t be as helpless and delicate when that day comes, but you’ll always be as precious.
Like this:
If you think I’ve got plans for Valentines, you’re wrong. Though technically I DO have plans.
Will wake up in 2 hours, go jogging, read up on a few scra, go early for school and pick up a few reading materials.
So where’s the love?
‘Love yourself’ is cliche. Who would even argue.
But love yourself, it is. Don’t get hung up on too many responsibilities — they’ll eat you. Relax, think through and you’ll be fine. Find your direction amidst the ocean of tasks, and find your way to your self. Don’t stress too much, exercise, and be as beautiful as you can be. Be wonderful and good to your own self — you owe yourself just that.
That’s me talking to myself!
Happy V, everyone!
First things first. I don’t want to leave the year without saying goodbye to the year that was. I’ve been MIA for a very long time and there are good reasons for it. Second, I want to keep a short documentation of this year’s highlights.
Remember Paula? She’s a bit grown-up now. And look how beautiful she has turned from the chubby little girl who always seemed to almost explode.
Paula, aka Wong, waits for her favorite beverage at Happy Lemon, Powerplant Mall, Rockwell
She ultimately loves yellow -- she even wanted to have her hair color changed.
And just immediately after Paula turned into 5, we’ve got our early Christmas present. Here’s our new baby-yo!
So here's the new package from heaven, all wrapped in pink. She should be "Little Red Baby in a Pink Hood."
Here's Kristen Gabrielle with her Ate.
"Kanguso"
Aw! She looks like a boy even in pink!
That’s all I’ve got this time!
And I really want to tell you…
That I love you.
That I am with you every step of the way.
That you can tell me anything without having to fear that you will be rejected. Because I will never push you away again. Because I will never leave you again.
That I will always try to understand.
That I will always remember that you love me, more than anyone and anything else.
That I will try to be strong and steadfast.
That being in love means being with you.
You are not mine. You are God’s and He is only sharing you with me and that means I will have to respect you with the freedom that God has given you. I will not force you to change at my own instance. You will change when you feel the need to and not when I tell you to.
That I believe you. Even if you lie a million times, I will always believe you.
I will never doubt your love.
I love you, Love.
B.
I have made a few presses the past few months which never made it to a post. And here’s another attempt at it.
It’s been difficult. I’ve been high and low. And now I feel so alone, which explains why I am trying my luck at blogging, again. I was happy and sad, and now depressed. Haha. Now crazy, too.
My stomach is rumbling for the love of food. But most of all, my heart is yearning for peace. Happiness, how can you be so hard to get?
It’s finals week and I feel like I’m losing my game. I lost my fighting spirit. I don’t know where this limbo is taking me.
Arte lang. I’ll start moving na today.
I have been busy and crazy these past few months. Nevertheless, I’m looking forward to a new me.
Here’s to growth and empowerment!
Financial management – Yes, I will keep track of my daily expenses. I must start saving now and think hard on investing, too.
Die-T – I’ve been working hard on this for the past few months and it never worked, or I didn’t work too hard. My jeans have stretched enough that they cannot accommodate a few more pounds. I must respond positively to red alert this time. So the key word is “discipline”.
Wellness – And it does not only depend on eating right and sleeping right. To maintain a balanced life, there must also be some degree of physical activity. So I’m saying yes to Zumba.
Happiness – Must choose it!
It is not a question that we only have one family no matter how long it extends to both sides of one’s parents. No matter how big the family is, the fact remains that each person only has one family tree which may keep on growing and growing but is never capable of breeding another tree apart from its own.
That is technically true, and, at the same time, constructively false. We are capable of not just branching out, but also building other families. Maybe not the genetic one, but one that you really internalize and consider a part of your being. We have friends that we consider our family, and the not-really friends in a strict sense.
Here’s the other family of the first situation.
A new family found in Batch Santikan, Ateneo Human Rights Center Sembreak Internship 2010.
And a family of the other kind:
My host family during AHRC's immersion program in Tamala, General Nakar, Quezon.
And our home. My partner and I have had a different family experience that is truly remarkable and unforgettable. Theirs is the family of true Filipino values.
Yes, I have made good use of my semestral break and found two new families to call my own.
The whole internship program was geared towards a familiarity of the different sectors and communities that are in need of our service. It enabled us to find a different perspective and a better outlook in life, and perhaps a deeper appreciation of our social responsibility. I also realized that we are not at all that different given the disparity in terms of civilization because they were able to welcome and embrace us as their own. This led me to understand that we too can relate easily with others despite our differences so long as we consider ourselves one within the same nation.
They are not the friends that we spend our every day with, wasting our resources to find comfort and happiness in little things. They are our fellowmen and now my family. Their plight is our fight.
I know!
Yes, just a meter or so from me.
I’ll see you!
I am no celebrity and I feel I am in no position to feel honored for I am just as common as everybody. But truly I am honored. You see, I haven’t been updating my page after the final week of my first semester in law school. It’s not that I have nothing to share but that I am struggling with my precious time. But you were there all the time — waking my stats a notch each day.
I hereby promise to make time for you. Just give me a few.
Sincerely,
Bee
That I don’t have eye bags doesn’t mean I am not stressed. In fact, I have never felt so tired ever since I entered law school until last week that I broke down. And it’s not yet over, although the semester is officially over since yesterday. Too much stress from the past few week’s busy schedule, non-stop review for the finals, the piling work load, pending reports, and the list goes on. And there’s also forward-looking stress. I know hell week so well.
I know stress from sleepless nights, from heavy concentration and memorization, and from utilizing one’s brain power beyond capacity. Thank God the brain is not a machine that crashes anytime. I could have been dead today. But I am so alive stressing over what is to come, over missing Paula and the thought of not being able to see her for two weeks, and over making plans on how I can spend time with her before I go out of town and away from home.
Stress #1: SO MISSING PAULA. Good thing I have convinced my brother to bring her later today so we can at least be together as I work while she plays beside me. I’m worried about her long trip to come see me, and at the same time excited to finally feel her. As a consequence, I will endure additional stress by taking the long trip back and from Laguna to get her home and make it on time for our getaway.
Stress #2: WORK LOAD AND PENDING REPORTS. I must do it although the probability is high that I won’t be able to finish it. I am positive though. The thought of it is not the most stressful idea but the more-stressed-sleep-deprived-me as a result.
Stress #3: THE AXE EFFECT. You call a grade “palakol” when it is in a line of 7, meaning 70-79. I am not afraid of it, even as a first-timer. What I am concerned is getting a failing mark which is somewhere between. Please, Lord, give me no less than 78.
Stress #4: PACKING GALORE. I never enjoyed packing and now I have to pack three for different venues and activities. And there’s time constraint making it worse. So assuming Paula and I leave at 10PM tonight, arrive home at 12MN, sleep by 1AM, wake up by 3, leave home by 4, pack a little more by 5:20 to make it at 6. Is it possible?
Stress, I hate you. Leave me alone.
I am so exhausted today. After a long day work, I’ve had to clean up our messy room and organize my stuffs. At least that’s what I have decided before going to bed. I’m almost done but I feel there is still much to do.
I’m still wearing my office attire. I will have to exercise first before I take a quick shower and finally surrender to S and S (study and sleep). And before I sweat myself off, I’ve had to endure a few hours brushing my sandals, folding and hanging my clothes, arranging my books and other stuffs, and finally sweeping the dust off the floor as I listen to my Dashboard Confessional playlist. All the time I was doing those tasks I’ve been contemplating on a few things that I wanted to accomplish. And aside from that, I’ve been reflecting on a lot of things and decided to clean my spirit too.
So I made a list of some short- to medium-term material goals, and another of daily objectives. And as I look forward to what I want to do, I realize that I have to start forgiving myself for the wrong decisions I have made. Truly, my life is difficult, so as others. But I cannot make it more difficult and make them appear insurmountable. I have to put things into perspective and really start moving on.
Although I feel bad about having to start all over again, I must know that it’s the only way I can make life better for me and Paula. It’s hard to forgive but I can start forgetting and hope someday I would not have to look back and feel sorry. I must choose to be happy and fight off the nightmares of the past.
So there, the cleaning does not end here. It’s a continuous process that I must diligently undertake, a routine I must gladly make.
I must do my crunches now so I can hit the sack anytime now before the dawn begins to crack.
If only “diet” can talk it will ask me to be faithful.
So I ask myself why is it so much easier to be faithful to a man than to a diet. I don’t have the answers. Is food more appetizing than men? Hahaha. What a connection.
Sabaw. Gusto ko na matulog.
Dear Mister,
I would like to thank you for helping me cross one of the most difficult bridges that I have to encounter in this lifetime. I thought I’d never get through but I made it with you. My chances would have been completely diminished have I not met you. So thank you.
Having met you is probably the most dreamy thing that has happened recently. I met hope upon meeting you. I thought hope was as endangered as the white tigers. Well, really you are rare and one of a kind, but you bring light into the room when you enter. Surely you are a blessing. And again, I thank you.
The first time I saw you, I felt for the first time that I can finally move on. I realized that there is much to hope for and that I can let go and hold on to a dream of a new life. My apprehensions of not finding one better than the one I had went gone in an instant. You took them all away, and took me with you. And with that, I thank you.
Every single day that our eyes meet, I am renewed. I want to smile like crazy at you. I have turned from dead to a new-born, and now finally kicking. Thank you.
I could not thank you more for it wouldn’t be enough. I can only let my words express my gratitude in an understated manner because I cannot let my heart out. The thought of you frees the spirit within me. Lucky me, I guess. Now I have you to pray for everyday.
Thank you once again.
By the way, what’s your name? I don’t even know where to address this to. How can I get to you? Tell me.
Should be yours tomorrow,
Miss
I have become a story teller. It’s not a voluntary act or from some deliberate concern but a matter of necessity. Of course I did envision myself as a mother-teacher who would impart stories of good values as I attempt to inculcate good morals to my child. But I have let go of that idea since I am not a full-time mother and traveling from Laguna to Makati and back everyday has been eating my precious time. It was a sacrifice I had to make — less quality time for Paula but at least seeing her everyday.
But things have changed since I entered law school. I come home only on weekends and spend limited time with her. And since I am always almost at the edge of breaking down due to sleeplessness, I make crazy efforts to put her to an immediate sleep. Thus, the story telling.
My stories have evolved over time. There are crazy ones and those of the impossible which she doesn’t really mind. She likes to ask questions and I give crazy answers. I don’t intend to sound funny, and she doesn’t find them funny either, but I don’t have the intellectual vigor to provide intelligent answers. But surely, there are also cases wherein I am able to provide, if not the best, at least logical and reasonable explanations.
My encouragement for her singing evolved too. I found this song by Carrie Underwood entitled “Temporary Home” which I really like and find the message fit for a growing child, except for the continuous flow of the lyrics which can be a little hard for a 3-year old (She has turned 4 just earlier). So to make the song a little catchy for her, I’ve decided to relate one of the stories behind the lyrics. The song actually tells about the life of three individuals who see some things as temporary in light of a greater plan that must be waiting ahead of them. It tells of hope and dreams. And the first story about the little boy was the one I really feel connected to, although my life was never close to his.
Little boy, 6 years old
A little too used to bein’ alone.
Another new mom and dad, another school,
Another house that’ll never be home.
When people ask him how he likes this place…
He looks up and says, with a smile upon his face,
“This is my temporary home
It’s not where I belong.
Windows and rooms that I’m passin’ through.
This is just a stop, on the way to where I’m going.
I’m not afraid because I know this is my
Temporary Home.”
You get the story, right? So I tell her that the little boy’s real mom and dad have left him and that some other couple are about to take care of him. And I remind her how lucky she is that I didn’t leave her just because I love her. She asks so many questions, every “bakit (why)” there is to ask. So I explain that maybe the kid’s parents do not have the financial capacity to raise the child or they were not ready to accept the responsibility. And another bakit comes in. A lot of bakit, and finally she made a qualification, “Wala ba siyang lola?“
So you get the idea. If the parents left the kid, wouldn’t the lola be taking care of him and not some other people? That made me think of my mother who is taking care of her when I am away. She’s the closest she can think of as a solution to the child’s problem as it is how it goes in her life.
My mother is not perfect, she never really took care of me and my little brothers. But I am amazed how great a job she’s doing for my kid. She brings Paula with her everywhere and she stoops down to Paula’s level with much enthusiasm. That’s even an understatement. Mama is never the emotional, sweet mom. She’s strict and a force to be reckoned with. We always complain about how she makes little things a big hell of a deal. But she transforms into a kid whenever Paula is around. She dances and screams with her.
I did say a few times that I will never be the way my mother was to us. But that story of the homeless child showed me that I cannot match the attention my mother is giving to my child. That little boy had no one else to care for him, but Paula has my mother during my absence. She even sent a bad yaya away for hurting Paula. She is perfectly filling my shoes and is effectively playing the role of the mom that I want to be.
I will be that mom someday, now I tell myself.
I need a life extension… Everyday.
You see, 4-6 hours of sleep is torture. It does not only make you less productive, it also adversely affects your brain processing. So when I lack such sleep, I can no longer think rationally as to live up with my promise.
Damn you, insomnia. I should be strictly allotting my extra time to reading. And you are eating my time.
I was chatting a while ago with an old friend whom I used to be with in a school play during grade school. I was Mamma Mary and he was my son, Jesus. So you can imagine the age gap. Nonetheless, he’s like three years my junior.
He was asking when am I going back to Cebu and he told me how he frequents Manila to do errands for his dad. So it was a brief hi and hello and some agreement on a potential meet-up.
It was just great that he remembers me all this time. Way back in elementary and high school, we didn’t really hang out that much. He was the type that most girls would have a crush on but hate at the same time, as he was good-looking and often described as ‘mayabang’. I was the proactive school girl who was always trying to balance acads and extra-curricular activities. I may be a little visible in the school community, but this kid was effortlessly popular. I sometimes wished he was my little brother.
I haven’t seen him since I left highschool except for one encounter in a computer shop. It was brief as well. But he was totally different then. He has matured and has clearly developed some “kapreskuhan” (sorry I don’t know the english translation). Maybe girls were easy for him. But I didn’t pay much attention to his ‘hirit’ then.
So earlier I saw a more matured person in him, and a better one. He is clearly not the boy I met in grade school, nor the boy I stumbled upon during my teens. He made a strong argument which has never crossed my old mind.
Little Boy: So I have a lawyer na when times get rough? Lol.
Me: Definitely, if I make it through the bar.
Little Boy: You will. I know you will.
Me: Hahaha
Little Boy: Yeah. I guess.
Me: Let’s hope.
Little Boy: Hope is for the weak. You don’t need that.
Me: So pray? Hahaha.
Little Boy: You got balls. (and a smiley)
HOPE IS FOR THE WEAK. Interesting… Coming from a young mind.
Now I will remember that all my life. And he believes in me.
——————
Little Boy, in case you come across this page, I don’t intend to make a judgment by calling you such. It’s just that I’m always reminded of you being my child in that play. =)
It’s a holiday and I’m sipping coffee while I force a book unto my brain. And because I hesitate to be lonely, my lappy Samson provides me some music background and a few updates of my friends through social networks. While browsing through FB, I came across some old photos of Paula during our holidays off home and was reminded of some of the humors we’ve had encounter.
My friend, Je, making fun of the only baby in the group during our Macau trip.
She hoped the metallic comb would open the package.
She tries to open anything that gets into her hands. I'm not sure if she thought the disposable undie has something edible with it or she simply hates plastic packaging.
So here's Ate Je training little Paula how to make "irap".
A locale in Macau in amusement. She's not the first victim, though. We've had a number of encounters with strangers asking for photos with her in both HK and Macau.
The cheek peace sign.
She doesn't like the feel of the sand on her feet. Good thing the puppy has tamed her for a long minute. Taken in one of the beaches in Batangas.
Nobody disturbs her when she's concentrating. At least everyone's eyes are on her.
And I was immediately struck of how fast Paula has grown up. She is a school girl now and can easily write her own name although with the letters in random order (She spells her name “Puaul”). These photos were taken when she was only two, and now she’s turning four.
She called me up yesterday, telling me “antagal mo naman” and asking if I have a surprise for her.
I’m just missing my baby. I’m off work-off school without her for the first time. Then I’m off Paula, too, making me offed three times today.
So what do you think about your holiday?
des pi ca ble |diˈspikəbəl|
adjective
deserving hatred and contempt : a despicable crime
The youngest person in the household next to Paula is a high school student, a cousin who’s been living with my family since my parents started to support his studies. This leaves Paula the only baby, who’s turning four, the primary source of joy and the leading object of fun. Yes, fun.
I always see to it that I come home for the weekends so I can spend time with her. We go out in the mall, in the park, or just about anywhere we can hang out and pig out. I bring her to work and school whenever possible. When I’m home, she goes with me wherever I go. Based on these, anyone can conclude that I am such a great mother, but in truth I am not. I am no perfect mommy. I am also a kid myself.
So when does being despicable come in?
I bet sending her on errands does not count. She willingly obliges to every order that I make, even it be about asking money from my mother for a movie pass. She also provides for our drinking water during meal time without us having to ask her.
We make fun of her, with my little brothers as my partners in crime — twisting the word ‘baby‘ to ‘baboy‘ when we say “ganda naman ng baboy na yan.” And my brother says ‘bata‘ repetitively to make it sound ‘bata bata bata bata‘, in effect, having ‘taba‘ in between.
We play dead until she cries. Well, that was when she was a lot younger. She now knows when we’re just acting, but still she cannot discern whether something is a truth or a lie. So we make her cry with the stories that we make like one when I made her believe that she has a twin sister, just like my brother, and that I take care of the other baby when I am away from home. She’d cry, unbelieving I could spend more time with the other child.
We feast on her chocolates. She’s so generous she’d offer anything she has and when nothing is left, she just simply says, “hayy… wala na ako.”
I put out the lights when we sleep which scares her like hell until she sleeps from crying. She has some negative vibes with my room that makes her uncomfortable.
We sometimes subject her to some emotional depression when we compare her with other kids just out for some laugh trip. She’s always in the limelight and on the hot seat of ridicule.
We all love her. She brings out the kid in everyone of us. She makes us forget about the seriousness and monotony of adult life. She makes us vibrant and young and happy and beautiful. She causes us to be despicable and admirable at the same time.
I guess she’s too young to take everything seriously. She does not know hatred yet so we’re always on a clean slate whenever the need for another drama pops up. Hate me, if you may, but I don’t want to grow too old for her yet. I want to be as young as possible so she can always relate and is always open. I want such bond to be so strong that age would not pull us apart by the time I am all work and no play.
We are A-Team... Two weeks ago in a theme park.
She takes the steering wheel as we bump and go. As the mother, you are always compelled to be a backseat driver.
Whew! Just sharing. I just feel oddly generous today.
A friend often so complains why there are only 24 hours in a day. He argues that if only a day can be 8 hours longer, he’d be able to do accomplish everything that has to be done. I would always answer that he should not blame time but himself for signing up for too much activities.
Now I understand why he is so bitter about it.
I want a few things done — like get a massage, go night swimming, finish all my readings and experience a complete sleep. Just these things. And I feel completely deprived right now.
Since there is such a thing as “count your blessings”, I am making a version contrary to it. So here is my count of sins.
Well, this is not really about all sins. I don’t intend to make a controversial private person out of me. I don’t want to be an object of ridicule and criticism, if ever that’s possible for an average person like me. I just want to list down the movies that I am able to squeeze in my hectic schedule. And the list will include old and new movies.
Starting August, here’s what I remember so far, in horizontal enumeration and in no particular order:
1) Step Up 3D; 2) You to me are Everything; 3) The Ghost Writer; 4) The Last Song; 5) The Expendibles; 6) Jack and the Beanstalk; 7) The Runaways; 8.) Inception; 9) The Last Airbender; 10) Tekken
So the list will go on. I will update this list to remind me how I find time to sin in these busy hours.
SEPTEMBER: 1) Letters to Juliet; 2) Everybody’s Fine; 3) Lie to Me S2Ep21; 4) Grown Ups; 5) Despicable Me 3D; 6) Chloe; 7) 12 Angry Men (1957 Classic); 8.) Veronika Decides to Die; 9) The Wolfman; 10) Shelter; 11) Match Point; 12) Resident Evil 3D
… the CURE?
I remember a promise I have made before I entered law school: I would study harder than I ever did in my entire life. And I did just that. Even though I do not always get to read everything of what is required, still I have surpassed the study time I have spent from nursery to college.
And now school is getting more difficult; and most difficult in this stress-prone times. Ah yes, my insomnia is making things worse for me. I have been cutting some of my classes because I couldn’t fight the urge to continue sleeping.
I cannot depend on sleep supplements because they force me to complete a full cycle of sleep when I can only spend half of that to make time for study. I did buy a few more Sleepasils but they are reserved for the weekend. So I googled and found out that chamomile helps one relax and sleep well. So I’m trying out chamomile tea tonight.
So, could it really put me to sleep and relieve me from stress? I hope so.
Too much stress can really interfere with one’s emotions. In fact, it’s like I’m giving in to someone’s attempt to revive our failed relationship; just because of such impaired sense of reality. Yeah, sometimes a persistent person can squeeze mercy out of you. But no, not today. Maybe chamomile can help too and cleaar my head for tomorrow.
Ah… There is the ringing. Again.
