Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Snips and snails and puppy dogs tails

I was watching The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy with my son last night. The episode was about a nose thief who stole Billy's nose.

                                        courtesy of www.tvguide.com

The climax showed the antagonist blowing up the nose to gigantic proportions, then using it like a hot-air balloon to escape from Billy and company...whilst holding on to the nose hairs. Grim, Billy and Mandy followed suit with their own inflated nose. When they were up in the sky, the antagonist's giant nose hit the three with a snot bomb, covering their faces. Billy simply licked off the snot so he can regain his vision.

I commented, "Ooh, that's disgusting!" My son turned to me and gave me a wickedly charming smile, and the following repartee ensued:

Son: But Mommy, I do that, too!
Mommy: (horrified look) You lick your snot off?!
Son: (grins) Yes!
Mommy: (testing to see if he's telling the truth) Really...? How does it taste like?
Son: It's salty! (belly laugh follows)

Little boys are gross. But charming. Very, very charming.

Friday, October 22, 2010

How Painfully Observant

The other night, our little family was having the usual pre-bedtime conversation. I don't know how we started the topic, but somehow, we wound up discussing money.

I told my son he should stop buying so much toys. To which, he gave me an impish little grin and said (pointing at me with his index finger), "You! Stop buying so much bags!"

And he turned to my husband and said (complete with the grin and finger-pointing), "You! Stop buying so much gadgets!"

Touche, my son. Touche.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

The Road to Giving Up

Smoking, that is. Sigh. I know it's a disgusting habit, but what can I do...? Habits are habits, and most of the time, they're bad and hard to break.

I actually succeeded quitting a few years back. This was January 2005, a few days after my bestie's wedding. Like the story of probably 70% of the other quitters in the world, I decided to kick the habit after I fell sick. I had a horrible episode of laryngitis...my throat felt like it was being sliced open when I swallow even just my spit. That, plus a most un-ladylike cough triggered by my allergic rhinitis, was motivation enough to keep from lighting up. And as hubby and I were planning for a wee one that year, both of us decided we should keep our paraphernalia under lock and key.

We should've hurled that key into the ocean. Two years later, a few months before my son blew his first birthday candle, I found myself in the corporate jungle. As some of you may know, this cat has prowled the creative side of the fence for more than a decade, and so finding myself crossing over to the other side was a bit of a nasty shock. The pressure was different. I felt a bit lost. I had a very exacting boss whom I wanted to poison (Good thing I didn't. He later became one of my most admired people, and a good friend, at that!). I had nothing to look at but my workstation and the four white walls surrounding it (no windows, WTH?!).

And so, mid-2007, I found solace from an old friend habit. I dug up my dusty lighter, flicked it to life, and took the most delicious drag from my first cigarette in two years. The worst thing about this is, since hubby and I share a brand, he found himself drifting towards my pack of reds and lighting up, as well. "Just one time," he said. Ahhh, I said that, too. Until now, I don't know anyone who was able to keep that promise of "just one time".

Fast forward to today, late 2010. I've tried quitting a couple of times but ended up raising the white flag ("just ONE time...") and inhaling the toxic fumes like a thirsty desert straggler would take his first gulp of ice-cold water. I realize it's toxic and that alone should keep me away. But even just writing about it is making me lust after a stick. Seriously addicted, I know.

So what's making me try quitting again?

Several reasons. For one, I read about a former classmate's struggle with lung cancer. She's my age, an excellent swimmer, a mother of one and - irony of ironies - a non-smoker. That last detail gave me a monster-sized guilt trip. Here I am, pumping stick after stick of carbon monoxide, nicotine, tar, and God knows what else into my (hopefully still) healthy lungs, and there she is, fighting a losing battle to breathe. She lives her life one day at a time, not knowing whether her respiratory functions will be okay each time she wakes up. I truly, deeply feel for her. I don't feel sorry for her because that's the last thing she needs, but I understand what it must feel when you know you'll leave your loved ones sooner than later. But I digress.

Secondly, I've really been wanting to kick the habit, evidenced by the many attempts this year. Like I said, it's just difficult when someone in your household is a smoker, and smokes the same brand as you do.

Lastly, a recent conversation with my boy led me to this. We went out to buy some ice-cream, and along with that, I purchased my usual pack of Mediums. As we were walking home and he was happily licking his popsicle, I took a drag and he asked innocently, "Mommy, why do you have to smoke?" I looked and him and said, "Well, it's a habit a have." So he asked me what a habit was, and as I explained it to him, he asked whether it was a good habit or a bad one.When I told him it's a bad habit, he asked, "So why are you still doing it?"

For the life of me, I couldn't come up with a decent answer. There really is no good reason for it. So I replied with a question, "Would you think about doing this when you grow up?" And, horrifyingly, he said, "Yeah, maybe I would. Just ONE time."

So that settled it. The last thing I want to be for my son is to be a poster child of bad habits. And, although I expected him to later on have this same habit (because he sees it from Mommy and Daddy), I have to be completely honest and say I'd rather he doesn't start. And I told him that. I told him, I'd rather you don't start because it's hard to stop.

So wish me luck this time. I hope I bury this habit soon.

P.S. It's been 24 hours since I last lit up. I'm feeling withdrawal signs, and I expect it to get worse. But I did this once before so I sincerely hope I can do it again!

Monday, August 16, 2010

Getting old, huh...? Indeed...

I stumbled upon a celeblog (celebrity blog) today and read an entry from one of the site owner's guest bloggers. The guest blogger is a starlet in Manila and her entry dealt with "getting old".

Here were her "tell-tale signs" of ageing (and I quote, verbatim):
  1. When you choose beer over soft drinks.
  2. When you can't eat pork fat as much (because you know your blood pressure will rise).
  3. When start calling you Ms. Mr. Ma'am Sir and it gets TOO ANNOYING!
  4. When you start to attend too many weddings and funerals.
  5. When you choose to stay home than to go clubbing.
  6. When you already do things that can put you behind bars.
  7. When it's already an effort to look good.
  8. When you're eating chocolates not because you love them, but because it makes you feel better after a bad break up.
  9. When you have to think of bills rather than boys/girls.
  10. When your mind makes contracts your body can't meet.
  11. When you don't care when you're wearing white socks with black shoes (AND I REALLY DON'T).
  12. When when sleeping on the couch makes your back hurt.
  13. When when there's nothing left to learn the hard way.
  14. When you're told to act your age (YES MOM).
  15. When you stop being excited about your birthday cake because chances are the candles will reveal your age.
  16. When you choose to let your ass warm up on your chair rather than bringing it to the gym.
My comments, point by point:
  1.  Young lady, if indeed you choose beer over softdrinks, then you are no doubt young. At my age, I have lost the quivering desire for alcohol. Unless it's over good conversation with some really good friends. Drinking for the sake of inebriation shows the characteristic irresponsibility that accompanies youth.
  2. I have to agree that hypertension is a classic sign of ageing. Although people my age and older will take one look at the lechon (whole roasted pig) skin and say, "Gamutin nyo na lang ako pagkakain!" (Just give me my medication after I eat this!)
  3. Ms./Mr./Ma'am/Sir stops getting annoying after a certain age. At some point, you recognise that it's a sign of respect (however grudging it may be sometimes). What offends me is being called lola (grandma), no matter how good-naturedly.
  4. It's not attending a wedding or funeral per se that indicates your age. If you go to a wedding, you're no longer a guest or secondary sponsor, but a PRINCIPAL sponsor. Plus you are seated on the same table as the oldies. For funerals, I guess it's more of attending funerals of your contemporaries (think Dolphy).
  5. The choice to stay home or go clubbing is not related to age. I was young once and I never enjoyed the social scene. Reading a book in a quiet corner of the house always won. I think that one is a function of her occupation and must not be taken as a generalisation.
  6. Really, now...? Try saying that line in Singapore. Besides, irresponsible behaviour equals youth and immaturity. Ever heard of Lindsay Lohan?
  7. It IS an effort to look good. It's just that some people were blessed with good genes and make it look effortless. Although, with Facebook now, I think everyone makes a conscious effort to look good (and to not wear the same thing on different photo albums, hahaha).
  8. Binge eating after a break-up is not a sign of age. It shows the lack of capacity to deal with the problem, no matter how young or old you are.
  9. Well, I have to give her this one.
  10. And this, too.
  11. Well, I damn well care! And, hello, Samantha Jones does, too. Actually, IMHO, age gives you the licence to carry fabulosity with aplomb.
  12. Well, okay, that and fatigue.
  13. Nothing left to learn the hard way? Then you are not ageing. You cease to live. Even my mom has important and painful life lessons at her age.
  14. If you're being told to act your age, you're just being loud and irritating. Not old. If you're old, nobody has to tell you how to act.
  15. I have no issues with candles. And I love birthday cakes. Besides, most people are discreet nowadays and omit candles. 
  16. I've been that way forever. At my age, I've never been inside a gym for personal training. I only went inside for shoots.
Conclusion: you, Young Lady, are worrying too much. If anything. your post reveals how "un-old" you are and how little you know about the world. I don't know that much, either, but I certainly know a little more than you do.

Now go act your age and stay in your room! Kidding.

Friday, August 13, 2010

So Much for My List...!

I've been a bad girl this year. I just revisited my list of resolutions at the start of the year, and as far as I could see, I haven't made much headway. Here's my mid-year assessment:

...find more opportunities to communicate with Him. (ermmmm...this could still be improved, admittedly. Reading about Anne Rice' recent interview got me thinking. I'll blog about that separately.)

...be less critical of myself and others. (this one might need more time. I am still as critical of myself and others as I could be. Though perhaps a little less vocal.)

...be more patient and less short-tempered. I know I sometimes hurt my husband and son when I have those occasional - okay, not-so-occasional - outbursts, and I am endlessly sorry for that. (needs improvement, still)

...be wiser with my spending. I know I should take my savings more seriously this time around. (aaaccckkk...don't even mention this one! My wardrobe bears all the evidence of my guilty conscience.)

...drink more water and take less soda. (well, there we go. One resolution being kept!)

...spend less time on the internet (Facebook seriously hogs time!). Less time on the computer means more time for my loved ones.(Considerably lessened, yes.)

...be less whingey when hubby goes on his business trips.(this, too!)

...be more productive, both at home and at work. (hmmm...I guess. But needs improvement.)

...be more organised. (oh dear...)

...blog even more. (10 piddling blogs for the year! *kicks self*)

But I take heart knowing that there's still a couple of months to go before 2010 ends. And that I didn't reach the 100-day mark before I posted another blog entry. Sigh.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

New Realities

  1. Our childhood superheroes and idols are all flawed. Next time you read up on mythology, Shakespearean classics or Marvel comics, pay close attention.
  2. We all get second chances in life. It just doesn't always turn out the way we expect them to be.
  3. We need to be very, very specific with our prayers.
  4. Sometimes we look for love in the wrong places.
  5. At times, it is easier to deal with pain and rejection than love and acceptance.
  6. History can be rewritten in one day.
  7. Silence is a good breeding ground for voices in your head.
  8. We sometimes mistake courage for self-preservation and masked fear. It is revealed at the threshold of a revelation and how one deals with it.
  9. Being smart has its downsides.
  10. Knowledge and acceptance are at opposite ends of the spectrum. But one has to find the right reflection in order to see the rainbow.
"Be careful what you wish for, 'coz you just might get it all. And then some you don't want." ~ Chris Daughtry

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Steven Tyler is my Rock God

Well, at least one of them. I might be Liv Tyler in a parallel universe.

I kept the right ones out
And let the wrong ones in
Had an angel of mercy to see me through all my sins
There were times in my life
When I was goin' insane
Tryin' to walk through
The pain.

When I lost my grip
And I hit the floor
Yeah, I thought I could leave but couldn't get out the door
I was so sick and tired
Of livin' a lie
I was wishin that I
Would die

It's amazing
With the blink of an eye
You finally see the light
It's amazing
When the moment arrives
That you know you'll be alright
It's amazing
And I'm sayin' a prayer
For the desperate hearts tonight.

That one last shot's a permanent vacation
And how high can you fly with broken wings?
Life's a journey, not a destination
And I just can't tell just what tomorrow brings.

You have to learn to crawl
Before you learn to walk
But I just couldn't listen to all that righteous talk
I was out on the street
Just tryin' to survive
Scratchin' to stay alive


No, it ain't my love song. But this girl is a Rock Star.  My life is amazing...and only those who truly know me will understand.

Monday, May 3, 2010

Time will reveal

And so my Divine Writer seems to be in one of His humorous moods. He might  have decided my life is too boring, thus some unexpected surprises.

I am quite hard to surprise. So when I use that word, then it's something really big.

But time is on my side.

Monday, March 15, 2010

Of metronomes and anthems

It is another moment of triumph for Filipinos everywhere as Manny Pacquiao scored another victory in the ring, this time over Ghana's Joshua Clottey. True, yesterday's 12-rounder was a bit ho-hum, considering Clottey did nothing but hold his arms over his face for the majority of the fight - plus the fact that what we really want is Mayweather['s face] on the canvas - but, still, a victory is a victory. So congratulations are in order for Team Pacquiao (especially Freddie Roach).

That being said, it irks me no end that some people find it in them to ruin a perfectly glorious moment.

One of the headlines on Yahoo! News today caught my attention: "Arnel Pineda's version of RP anthem criticized". For those of you Filipinos who [live under a rock and] didn't get to watch the fight, Pineda was given the honor to sing the Philippine National Anthem.

Apparently, the National Historical Institute deemed the Journey frontman's version "wrong", ergo, they find it essential to file a complaint to the Department of Justice.

And what, exactly, was their issue with Pineda's version? According to the article, "under Section 37 of RA 8491 or the Flag and Heraldic Code, the national anthem must be sung in accordance with the original musical arrangement of composer Julian Felipe, who gave it a marching tempo. Violators may be fined Php5,000 to Php20,000 or jailed for a year." Furthermore, Lupang Hinirang must be "properly sung with a two-fourths beat and 100 metronomes," which should make it last for 53 seconds, instead of the 89-second version that Pineda delivered.

Let's be clear on one thing: I'm not exactly a Pineda fan (though I must admit he's got the vocal chops). Neither am I pro-NHI; I am sure the agency is just doing its job. But, my goodness, how ANAL can they get? If they're that obsessive, maybe they should consider putting together an Association for National Anthem Literacy or something...

Until this day, I've never heard of an effing metronome, much less know what to do with it. I heard Pineda's version, and while, admittedly, it might have been slower than the prescribed marching beat, my amateur ears detected nothing criminally wrong with his rendition. To me, his interpretation was heartfelt, and more than enough to remind me how proud I am to be a Filipino by birthright.


A string of other talented Filipino singers received the same frown from NHI: Charice Pempengco, La Diva, Sarah Geronimo, Lani Misalucha and Kyla got less-than-stellar reviews from the board. I only agreed with the NHI on two counts: Martin Nievera and Christian Bautista, both of whom delivered harrowing renditions; but still, I don't see how that's enough to earn them DOJ's attention. The only injustice here would be to take the DOJ's attention away from more important cases and concentrate on metronomes.

Look, when we were in primary school and were first taught the National Anthem, what were the things they told us? Were we instructed to keep it at two-fourths beat and 100 metronomes (egad, I hate that word!)? Did our teachers ever whip out a stopwatch and give detention to anyone who sang it at 00:53:04 seconds or beyond? Hell, no (well, at least not in my school...)!

The only thing I remember being required to do was to sing Lupang Hinirang with nothing less than respect and reverence, with your right hand placed over your left chest, and with your eyes looking straight at the flag. Respect, not metronome, was the order of the day.

In fairness to him, I felt Pineda's sincerity and respect in singing the National Anthem. He's made a name for himself so he probably doesn't need the 89 seconds of fame this stint bought for him (or cost him, depending on your perspective). But, more than anything else, he certainly does not deserve the flak he's getting from NHI just because he sang it a few beats too slowly. That goes for all the other singers, as well (barring Nievera and Bautista).

Rather than stirring up the dust after each and every rendition of Lupang Hinirang, here's an idea for the NHI: maybe they should just put together a group of official National Anthem singers, train them in the prescribed metronomically-correct beat, and send out an official circular/pass a Congressional bill/whatever that one can only source out singers from that official group, so that future versions are guaranteed 100% correct. That would certainly be more constructive, don't you think?

I hope Pacquaio retires immediately. With a looming fine and possible jail term, I don't think any singer in his right mind should carry the responsibility of singing our National Anthem. Any volunteers from NHI?

Friday, February 26, 2010

Sold!

I just won my first-ever bid on eBay today! Not that there was any stiff competition (I believe I was the only one who bid for the product!), but nevertheless, it still felt rewarding.

My purchase is a copy of Artemis Fowl: The Arctic Incident, in the old cover design that I wanted. The price difference from the online purchase versus the usual retail price wasn't all that astronomical (UP: about $14.50; eBay price: $10). So why not just go to the nearest mall and get a brand-new copy?

I have this thing about collecting books in old(er) covers, particularly if they come in a series. I guess it's a habit I got from an old colleague of mine, who would pore over the shelves on second-hand book shoppes for old cover designs. I thought that was a really cool idea, and so a few weeks after I discovered that hobby of his, I was already competing with him on the shelves (one time, he made a mistake of putting down a copy of Stephen King's The Shining because he couldn't make up his mind. He regretted it after I snapped it up in less than 10 seconds.).

Going back to the AF series, I wanted it because of the cover, as I had purchased books 1 and 3 in the same design, and what is available in the bookstores are those in the crappy new cover (t would ruin my collection's look). Book 1 was bought from an out-of-the-way children's book shoppe, which I thought I could drag my lazy arse to any old time I wanted the next installments. But, yeah, I've got a lazy arse, so Book 1 was long finished and I still had no Book 2.

Then, a few weeks ago, there was a big book sale at the city area. My friend told me to go because she had seen a lot of AFs and Paulo Coelhos. But because I was in another place at the time, I opted to go the following day. By the time I arrived, all the AFs were gone, save for a worn-out-ish copy of Book 3, in the cover I wanted. So I bought that, along with a host of other titles.

And now, at last, I have found Book 2! Didn't I say it was rewarding? And it comes with free personal delivery :)

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

The gift of today

Today, I read an inspiring quote from a bookmarked blog. The site owner apparently did not know who the author was, so I did some Googling and found out it was from an American writer named Mary Jean Irion:

"Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are.
Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart.
Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow.
Let me hold you while I may, for it might not always be so.
One day, I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow,
Or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky,
And want, more than all the world, your return." 

Much ado about nothing

Please humour me and let me have a good laugh. I've just been called a chick by a 24-year-old boy!  I must say, I was thoroughly amused (and, okay, maybe a bit flattered. When you're a thirtysomething married woman, you don't get this kind of attention as often as you used to.).

My brother-in-law casually told me the other day that one of his friends popped in his Facebook chat window. He said he was browsing through little bro's FB friends, and he saw this chick. "Is he your sister," he asked. Little bro told him, "Uhhh...yeah...? Why?" "'Coz she's a chick. Can I add her?" To which he replied, "He's my big brother's wife! Choose another chick from my friends' list."

So the friend went through little bro's contacts (I think he has about 500+ on his list). The verdict? "She's the only chick I could find!"

Hahahahaha!!!!!

Seems that there's much to-do about my profile pic. But, seriously, what's wrong with it? Okay, I know there's probably a bit of cleavage showing there, but I've seen worse in other photos. Besides, even my husband noted that the shirt I was wearing wasn't really out-of-the-ordinary. It's just a nice top I could wear to the mall or to visit relatives.

So it strikes me as a bit peculiar that I've been getting a lot of friend requests from guys I don't even know. And a smattering of messages from male acquaintances/former colleagues. Heck, even a good guy friend from university scolded me for the "revealing" photo (he said he was uncomfortable with the picture, and that he could see my, ahem, chest area even from the small chat window. (And this is a guy who is exposed to half-naked (and naked) women on a constant basis.).

And what did my husband have to say about all the male attention? "Yeah, you could change your profile picture, you know. Let's take a sexier photo of you."

Monday, February 22, 2010

A Father's Love

I was bloghopping today when I came across this site.

It's amazing how the blog owner is able to come up with the content for the site. All entries contain original scanned correspondences, from obscure Joes to the more familiar names such as Harvey Milk and J.D. Salinger, and references to the likes of President Roosevelt and Nikola Tesla.

What caught my attention was a wonderful and touching letter from an unknown soldier. I am posting the full transcription below, but if you wish to see the original handwritten letter, then please follow this link.

Wednesday
Oct 21, 1942

My Dear Little Girl,

Last night was a beautiful moonlit night. Every star that studded the sky was sparkling like a jewel. The air was crisp, but faintly perfumed, with all the fragrances only a lovely spring night can devise. Today it is raining hard, the wind is fierce and cold. Yes! It is miserable, something you want to pass by quickly, so that the night will again be beautiful.

Life too, Anne, is like the weather. Some days are so lovely, the happenings of those days so enchanting, you never can forget them. Some are so unhappy, you wish they never happened but, alas, they must for your life, your Mother’s, mine, everyone’s is so mixed up with joy and sadness that you never have one or the other for long. One replaces the other with a speed that is amazing.

Thus it happened just two years ago. Your Mother knew and I knew that you were going to be born. Those days were anxious ones, Anne. As the days went by your Mother used to smile at me with those lovely brown eyes. Eyes that shone with courage and resolve. If she had anxiety in her mind she never showed it but it must have been there. In my heart and mind torments raged that no one will ever know. But through all the doubts all the worries and all the long, anxious hours an end came, bringing with it, you.

From that hour, it was early in the morning, the lives of two people were filled with inexplicable happiness. When I called to see your Mother that day I shall never forget the beauty, the happiness that shone up at me from her precious little face. Neither will I forget the pride and the joy that surged right through me when the nurse brought you along and I held you in my arms.

Soon we took you home. The months sped by, and you gradually took a hold in our hearts. You laughed so much at such silly things we did to claim your attention. We showed you off to so many people. Your eyes, so big and questioning never failed to win admiration. Your curly hair was indeed a special joy.

And as each month sped by you grew. First you sat up, then stood up, then crawled, then walked. As each stage passed funny little incidents occurred. Perhaps no one ever noticed them or remembered them. But your Mother and I did. Every night, when I came home from work, there were stories of your conduct through the day to be told. Some days you were good and others you were naughty. Like, for instance, the day when a little mischievous spirit seized onto you and strips of wall paper came from the wall, Other thoughts came crowding into my mind, memories of days gone by when we laughed at you, scolded you, and, some serious times when we worried over you.

The first year of your life passed away, quickly perhaps, but you grew so quickly every day was an adventure not only for yourself but for us. You had a party for your first birthday, and although you sat up like Jacky you probably will never remember it. But that day you got “Goog’ga” for a present. Poor “Goog-ga”. As each week passed he got dirtier and more worn. And the dirtier he got the more you loved him. Then at Xmas,”Teddy” came along. Dear old Teddy. So plump and with such a frizzy coat. In a few months he was still plump but his hair was not so frizzy. Then, you’d never go to sleep unless Teddy and “Goog-ga” were tucked in with you. You’ll never know how angelic, how like a cherub you looked, when after your bath you were popped into bed with your little playmates. Indeed God is good. How many times have your Mother and I crept in to see you sleeping. And how many times have I wiped away tears, gentle little tears of happiness from her eyes when we came out.

All those days were so beautiful, like the night I sat and watched yesterday evening. But soon came the rain. Your lovely country, so free and so proud, was fighting for its life. Those indeed were dark days. I had to leave Mother and you and become a soldier. Thousands of other Daddies went too, because we had to fight so that all the Mothers and little boys and girls could live happily. That was many months ago. I do not know how long it will be before we will be home again together. But rain my little darling does not last for ever.
Through the blackest clouds a little piece of blue appears. The wind blows, and soon the clouds go. So too will peace come and then we can be all happy again.

Because I’m a soldier now Anne I cannot attend your birthday this year. You are going to have a party and I wont be there. But while that party is on I’ll be thinking of you and your Mother. Thinking of the day you came along, and of the days that have gone by since. You are lovely now, like your Mother. Some day, when you grow up, some man is going to be lost in your loveliness, like I was when I fell in love with your Mother. But no matter. We cannot have you forever. While we do we’ll teach you all the lovely things of life, and there are so many beautiful things in life. There are, too, bad things and, these also we will tell you about so that you’ll know how to pass them by.

Maybe it will be years before you will be able to read this letter but when you can you’ll know at least how much we love you and how much you mean to us.

I am looking forward to seeing you soon and to seeing those big brown eyes of yours laugh back at me. Until then my little girl.

Goodbye and God bless you on your birthday.

From your adoring

“Dad-da”


I should've known from the blog lead-in that it was a mistake to read it from my workstation. It is touching to me on so many levels.

For one, I am a parent and I could only sympathise with the pain and anxiety that a separation like that can bring. It must be heart-wrenching to leave behind your loved ones, not knowing whether you'll be coming back. As for the wife, I cannot imagine her agony. Look at me, hubby just goes on business trips and I get all pissy, worried and anxious all in one go. Although I must say it's a poor comparison; I really feel like a petty idiot now.

On another front, I see myself in the little girl. To those of you who do not know my background, my father had been a soldier for most of his life, having been a veteran of World War II and the Korean War. By the time I was born, he no longer went off to fight in wars, but I imagine he could have written me notes like that had I been born during those times. I knew my father to be an eloquent man so letters like that must come easy to him.

I'll never know whether the letter's author ever came home. And in much the same way, I would never know whether my father had it in him to express his love for me like that. Perhaps I should ask his children if they ever got letters like that. I certainly never did.

On second thought, maybe not. Some things are better left unknown. 

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

A Month in Review

When somebody said that time flies, he sure wasn't kidding. It's already two days into February, and looking back at my January blogging...there's only one measly entry! This after making a resolution to increase the quantity and quality of my blogs! Tsk tsk tsk...

Now that the rant is out of the way, it's time to get back to business.

**********

Anyway, my son has already put in a month in Nursery school. Here's how it went, per week:

Week 1
  • Marked by daily bouts of separation anxiety. It was a chore-and-a-half for my mother-in-law to leave him in the classroom.
  • Cried a lot in class, even heaving up at times because of excessive bawling. He's okay upon leaving the house, but his panic increases in direct proportion to his physical proximity to school. The fact that the rest of the kids were crying their eyes out, as well, did not really help.
  • Didn't eat well during breaks (they are not allowed to bring in their own food, and he is used to being fed).
  • The teachers discovered he could read, and so sometimes he was made to read aloud in front of the class. I'm guessing it's a welcome respite for the tired teachers!
  • At the homefront, I implemented SSS - the Smiley Sticker Scheme. Each day that he "survives" school means a smiley sticker on the calendar. I also leave him little notes daily to encourage him to enjoy his classes.
  • Reward for earning 3 smileys out of 5: a trip to Candy Empire to get his favourite sweets.
Week 2
  • Missed two days of classes because of a throat infection. If you ask me, it was probably the stress catching up on him. That, or he had too much sweets from Candy Empire.
  • Seemed to be getting used to the school routine. When I told him he was going to be absent" and what the word meant, he was genuinely sad and said, "I hate being absent!"
  • Enjoyed going to school but was largely non-participative. According to my MIL (who watched discreetly from a window), my son didn't join the singing or the games. He just basically did his own thing, sometimes loitering around the classroom. I guess the teachers were just giving him a break and a chance to adjust better.
  • Began to trust his form teacher. He gets to the door and immediately takes the teacher's hand. It was an almost no-tears week!
  • 2 smileys out of 5. So no reward this week. Besides, he wasn't well enough to enjoy a day out, anyway.
Week 3
  •   No more crying episodes in school. But then there's the bargaining. Like on the way to class, he tells his Grandma, "I'm sleepy" or he wants to watch TV "just five minutes longer."
  • One time I brought him to school, he went out the classroom, close to tears, and told me he was tired, and where was I going? But I thought it's only because I was the one who brought him there, out of the routine, thus the clinginess.
  • Another time, he had to stay behind for 30 minutes after dismissal. The reason? He refused to finish his school work! And it was just a colouring activity! His form teacher called in my MIL and asked her to stay with him, to get him to finish the work, because he refused to listen to them.
  • Feedback from the form teacher: my son is extremely bright, but was very noisy in class. Can't stay seated. Doesn't pay attention to lessons. And refused to do his school work.
  • As a result of the non-compliance, I had to write a letter to his teacher to explain my son's personality quirk. He abhors it when someone tells him to do something "just because"...he'll simply dig in his heels and refuse. You need to explain satisfactorily before he agrees (takes too much after the mother, I presume...). And, of course, he's been exposed to a structured environment for all of two weeks, so he still needed time to adjust. The separation anxiety alone was a big hurdle for him.
  • Had to amend the SSS rules because of this. Instead of simply not crying, he now needs to participate and listen to his teachers for him to earn a smiley.
  • However, since the brouhaha transpired towards the end of the week, and he had earned some smileys already, a promise was a promise: he still got his Timezone play time for getting 4 out of 5 smileys.
Week 4
  • Greatly improved, especially after being given The Talk by his form teacher. I imagine being told you need to stay if your work is not done - to the extent of sleeping in the classroom unless you complete it - is enough to make a child behave. My son clarified, though, where it is he would sleep if there was no bed, and whether the lights and air-conditioning will be turned off. Gotta love this kid's spunk!
  • He is more open now and tells us stories of what happened during his day. The first three weeks, he usually just responds with "I don't know" when asked. He now shares brief stories with us, provided we ask the right questions. I think he will learn to tell us about his day on his own, eventually.
  • He now eats with relish, albeit slower than his classmates, and finishes his food (he said he didn't need to throw his buns in the trash bin anymore).
  • 4 smileys out of 5: I took him out to eat in a favourite restaurant, and got him some new storybooks.
I was pleasantly surprised to receive an SMS from his form teacher yesterday. Here's what she told me: Thank you for your letter of appreciation and updating me on issues relating to your boy. You and your family had really contributed a lot toward Miguel's learning and intellect. He's a really bright boy and a joy to have in class. He's doing alright in class last week compared to the second week when he was here, he is listening to me when I told him to wait for his turn, or to give his friend a chance to talk. Give him some time and in no time he'll understand that there are rules to follow in school. He is also getting along well with his peers.

Now isn't that a delightful thing to hear?  I'm so proud of him. It earned him two smileys in a single day.

Todate, I am still keeping the daily ritual of leaving him notes. I think this is something I have to do the entire year; one time I forgot, he seemed genuinely disappointed. But I can live with the daily note-scribbling, considering the emotional benefits he reaps from them far outweighs the very small time or inconvenience it requires from me.

As far as rewards go, I still plan to give him the occasional treat. I am planning to try spacing the rewards, placing it at 2-week intervals instead of weekly ones. Let's see if it works. He is currently working on 10 smileys for a trip to the zoo.

So that's my son's month in review. I hope things keep getting better. He's not making much progress with his Chinese lessons, though, but that's another problem for another day. One step at a time, I'm positive we have the school year licked.

 

All photos courtesy of Getty Images

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Bits and Pieces for the New Year


I know we're six days into 2010, but still I wish everyone a happy new year! I hope you all had a good celebration over the holidays with your family, friends and loved ones.

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I was supposed to put up a post before 2009 ended. However, the holiday rush caught up with me, and between my work and my family life, I lost the opportunity to complete the entry. Well, better late than never.

Looking back, last year:
...hubby and I were still struggling a bit in this new place. Now, I think we are in a much better position than we were a year ago and can afford a few of our small luxuries. We're also closer to completing payments for some of our major purchases. Woohoo!
...I just started out at work. Today, I am more comfortable in the workplace and gained friends in the form of my colleagues.
...I lost a high school friend and an uncle. But I believe I just gained two more prayer warriors who'll incessantly plead my cases to The Big Guy Up There.
...I missed Manila a whole lot. I still do.
...I argued a lot with my mother on the phone. We now end our conversations with I love you and I miss you.
...I lived with my family in a very basic (read: crappy) flat. We have since moved to a better location, with a very homey atmosphere.
...the quantity and quality of my blogs increased. I hope to outdo myself this year.

Overall, I was very blessed in 2009. I thank my Divine Writer for making it a challenging yet rewarding time. I ask for His continued blessings in the coming year.

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And because He was very generous to me, I would like to pay Him in a small measure by improving myself. This year, I resolve to:
...find more opportunities to communicate with Him.
...be less critical of myself and others.
...be more patient and less short-tempered. I know I sometimes hurt my husband and son when I have those occasional - okay, not-so-occasional - outbursts, and I am endlessly sorry for that.
...be wiser with my spending. I know I should take my savings more seriously this time around.
...drink more water and take less soda.
...spend less time on the internet (Facebook seriously hogs time!). Less time on the computer means more time for my loved ones.
...be less whingey when hubby goes on his business trips.
...be more productive, both at home and at work.
...be more organised.
...blog even more.

I hope I can keep my resolutions. After all, a new year calls for new beginnings.

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Speaking of new beginnings, my son entered a new phase in his life. He is now officially a school boy!

Last Monday, hubby and I played the supportive parents by attending the school orientation with our son. He seemed happy in his new environment, and he was eagerly checking out the toys and all the interesting stuff inside. Actually, on our way to school, he asked me, "Mommy, why do you have to come with me?" Sigh. It stung a bit, but I was glad to see then that he would have to trouble adjusting.

Turned out I spoke too soon. Yesterday, Grandma reported that he threw a royal hissy fit in class. Two hours into the session (he is scheduled for four-hour daily classes), he realised that none of us were around. He howled for all he was worth and none of the teachers could get him to quiet down! Dear Lord! Some of our acquaintances even said he was banging on the door. Good thing Grandma arrived and he calmed down, but everytime she would disappear from his sight, he would start whimpering again. Oh boy.

I understood he must have felt abandoned (he confirmed that he started crying when he saw Grandma wasn't around). I think what made it worse was when he saw some of the other kids' moms were peeping through the windows, but he could not see a familiar face to wave at.

It was time to put all my pseudo-psychiatry on a test run. I talked to him last night and explained there was no need to feel scared. I also took a desk calendar and drew a smiley face for 4 January, and a sad face on the 5th. I told him that if there are more smiley faces than sad faces for the week, he will get a reward on Saturday; if there are a lot of sad faces, then he won't get any treats. He looked like he understood, so he chose his reward: a trip to the candy shoppe to get some jellybeans. He also said the sad faces "looked weird and funny", so he vowed not to add any more to the calendar.

Apart from the bedtime pep talk I gave him, I also left a letter for him to read before he goes to school. Basically, I told him to be brave and have fun at school. (update: I just chatted with him a few minutes ago, and he said he promises "not to break his smile today")

I really hope all the encouragement works. I know that separation anxiety is all part and parcel of a child's growing pains, and that it's perfectly healthy, but of course I do not want him to be traumatised by the experience. School is meant to be a happy place, and I hope he believed me when I told him that his class is his  very own special place to enjoy. Let's see what happens today (all fingers and toes crossed!).

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I started catching up on my reading late last year. I'm glad to report I'm gaining some headway into the little reading list I made a few months ago. It's a nice feeling when you finally purchase a hard-to-find title. My first purchases for the year:



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And, finally, the first Monday of the year saw my hubby on yet another business trip. Oops, I promised not to be whingey. Right. I'll shut up now, I think.