Thinking of Migrating

...to a new blog site, that is. Haven't been posting here for sometime, mainly because it is becoming a sad place for me.

But there are so many decisions to make!

I want to make the new blog a little more public than this one, and a bit more interesting. After all, who wants to hear me rambling about myself? What, then, do I focus on? Motherhood? Too many mommies doing that already. Makeup? But I don't do selfies so that could be a problem in showing how effective a product is. Books? That might increase the pressure on me to keep reading (which I don't have a lot of time to do on certain days). Food? There must be five food blogs out there for every one mommy-blog.

Sigh.

I need to think this through. I also need to decide if I still want to salvage some of my other blog posts here, or if I should start from scratch.

Any suggestions?

"The human being is a  surprisingly resilient organism. We impel toward health, not sickness. Your spirit, as surely as your body, will try to heal...So you should not fear tragedy and suffering. Like love, they make you more a part of the human family...They are the fire that burns you pure."

~ Kent Nerburn, Simple Truths

 We lost a second angel this year.

The circumstances were eerily similar to the previous baby we lost. I found out I was pregnant by the 5th week. Had an ultrasound by the 6th week to check on the heartbeat; cardiac activity was detected, but so was a subchorionic hemorrhage. After two weeks, back to the sonologist to check on the size of the SCH and the baby's development. The size of the SCH decreased, but the baby's cardiac activity revealed only a flatline. Early embryonic demise at about 7 weeks AOG.

I was watching the monitor intently the entire time I was having the scan. Even before the sonologist turned the monitor away from me, I knew something was wrong. No, it wasn't just his facial expression that told me so. I was already familiar with the foetus' outline - how it was NOT supposed to look like, at least. And that wasn't how the baby was supposed to look like.

Over and over, the good doctor tried to look for a heartbeat. But for each flatline I saw, my spirits continued to sink. I knew what he was going to tell me. And before he could even say, "I'm sorry," I was already lost in my own personal abyss. Yet I was still able to tell him, "Yes, I know." By then, I had already successfully put on my most convincing poker face. I took it matter-of-factly.

But the truth was, my world stopped for a while and continued on in slow motion, as if I was in a drug-induced stupor. I heard him ask me if it was okay to call in my husband, and I found myself mechanically nodding my head and thinking, what else can you say that can change things? Seeing my husband walk in with a shit-oh-no-here-we-go-again look, and the pain in his eyes when the doctor showed him the baby's heart, silent and still. 

We went back to my OB Gyne to show her the results, not talking, just holding hands. There were no words. Only that grave, familiar feeling that we wished we never knew.

 

I am putting my thoughts and feelings out here not to ask for comfort, or advice, or reasons. Because there is no comfort right now. Because I don't need advice. Because there are no reasons that I can humanly fathom.

 

Only feelings. Of anger. Of sorrow. Of bitterness.

 

I feel angry at the laboratory that processed my blood tests. Yes, I know they said results will be in two to three weeks' time, but have they never heard of a life-and-death situation? I insisted twice on getting the results early, twice I was told the same thing...yet when my OB gave them hell, they were able to produce the results in 15 minutes. But it was useless. She was already holding the second ultrasound result. At some point, I wanted to blame the lab. I am angered at the life I had lost and at their incompetence and insensitivity. I could have been given the proper treatment to save my baby's life had they not wasted their time sitting on their motherfucking slacker asses. I am angry that I am so helpless.

 

I am deeply sorrowed for another beautiful life lost. A life we eagerly anticipated would bring more happiness and love into our family. I am sad because I was powerless to do anything to save him (Yes, I know in my heart that I carried a little boy). I am sad because I was not able to save his sister, either (I also felt in my heart that the previous one was a little girl).

I am bitter because I feel like I failed my husband and my son. Yes, I know it's not my fault, it's nobody's fault. But that is how I feel. I saw other mothers at the hospital that day, with their big bellies and their expressions of bliss and I think, why could I not do that again? 

The most difficult part of this ordeal was in breaking the news to my son. We told him we lost the baby, and he said, "Again?!" He leaned on my shoulders and hugged me, and it took all the energy in my body not to break down in front of him. I couldn't do that to my son. I gave him a rational answer, though rational was the last thing I felt at that time. 

Whenever I see images of siblings on books, on the internet, on TV, anywhere...I feel a knife going through my heart for what my son couldn't have. I long to give him a brother or a sister, because I know how lonely it can be without one. But I can't. And it hurts like hell.

Dear reader, don't tell me there is hope yet. Don't tell me I can try again. Don't tell me that God's plans are not our plans. I know all that. But I don't want to hear it.

I just want to feel. I am allowing myself this, for the moment. I lost another life and I have every right to grieve, and no one has the right to tell me otherwise.

I will see you someday, my little ones. Mommy owes you both some hugs and kisses.

Remembering

We owe you our hugs and kisses. We owe you a name. But, until we see each other someday, we will always remember you.

The Boss

I am dumbfounded at how I always seem to find the world's coolest and most amazing bosses around. I recently proved that yet again.

My birthday came two days after I found out the sad news. Notice I did not say "I celebrated my birthday..." (How could I, right?). But since it was still supposed to be my special day, the text messages arrived, the Facebook greetings appeared on my wall, the Twitter greetings were tweeted, calls came. I answered them all as cheerfully as I could. Most people probably thought I was having the time of my life, when in fact I spent the day hiding in my house, away from the rest of my family, entertaining myself with a DVD marathon of "Desperate Housewives", of all things.

Evening came. And so did a very heartwarming message from The Boss. He knew about my entire journey (mainly because I had the responsibility to inform him). Note that I had been away from work for almost a month by then.

He told me:

"Happy birthday, iluzionada! I know that given how things have been, it's not exactly an easy thing to do to be happy and celebratory. But birthdays are both celebrations of all things past and all things about to come. Wishing you many many blessings ahead, and may your birthday be filled with love and hope. God bless you, iluzionada :)"

A perfect, perfect message which I consider the start of my journey to healing.

I am still blessed. The Boss was and still is a wonderful person.

The Timeline

20 February 2012 was a special day. It was my best friend's birthday, and on the same day, I received the best news ever: I found out I was five weeks pregnant. I giddily looked at the two pink lines and shared the news with the people who mattered.

An answered prayer.

**********

Towards the beginning of my sixth week, I had an episode of slight spotting. Brownish, not red (sorry, TMI). I was trying not to panic and had the presence of mind to SMS my doctor. She advised immediate bed rest plus continued medication.

I immediately complied.

**********

A few days after the spotting episode, my doctor called me and told me to come in for an ultrasound. Now. I stilled my frantic heart and told myself she will take good care of us.

And she did.

**********

At the doctor's clinic, I looked at the monitor and the doctor explained that there was a subchorionic hemorrhage. Nothing to be alarmed over, but still, I needed to take it easy.

I also saw the beginnings of a tiny, tiny heartbeat. 109 beats per minute, to be exact. At that point, the shape was still unrecognisable, but the signs of life were unmistakable. I held the blurry pictures and felt my happiness spill over. I shared the moment with my husband and anybody else who cared to listen.

We were elated.

**********

I promised my little one that I will do everything to take care of him/her. I avoided too much movements and confined myself within my bed as much as I could (I even skipped dinner with an aunt who came home from the UK. Didn't want to take any chances). I took my medication religiously. I ate whatever I could (which wasn't much, considering I hated the smell of food. But I still tried my best to keep everything down.). I prayed for the little one.

And I also said, whatever happens: Your will be done.

**********

16 March 2012; two days before my 36th birthday. After weeks of staying at home, in bed, it was a full day for me. I was scheduled for laboratory tests: routine urinalysis, an oral glucose challenge test (OGCT) and a repeat ultrasound.

I took my lab results to my doctor and then went back down for the repeat ultrasound. Doc said she would wait for me so we can finish my consultation.

It was a day I wish had never come.

**********

I've discovered a few of the saddest things at the end of my 35th year.

Going into a hospital happy, optimistic, and expectant. Then going out a few hours later, empty, numb and devastated.

Looking at the first sonogram and remembering the beginnings of a tiny heartbeat. Then looking at the latest one and seeing that flatline.

Reading the words "good cardiac activity" the first time. Then hearing the words "fetal demise" and "pathologist" in one sentence and realising it was meant for you.

That sometimes the tears just won't stop. And you look at your husband's eyes and see your grief magnified a thousand times over. 

**********

We drove home in total, shocked silence. Our dreams were crushed, but we had no words to say it out loud.

I looked outside the car window and recalled the surreal experience at the hospital. The sonologist asking me what the baby's previous heartbeat was. Then telling me in a voice devoid of any emotion that there was no cardiac activity detected (he even showed me a flatline with the word "ABSENT" in all caps). I recalled how the world tipped slightly out of balance at that very moment; I thought, how could I tell my husband and my son? Was there anything I could have done differently? How can I "un-tell" everyone I shared the good news with?

WHY?

And as our car whizzed past a Jollibee store, I saw the happy red-and-yellow bee smiling at me. Mocking me for no reason at all. That's when I heard a loud cry of pain. Deep, inconsolable, primal.

And I realised it was me.

An Answered Prayer

My Divine Writer has spoken.

Guess that US trip needs to wait for a few more months.

Plans for 2012

Here's the deal. There are two things that I really, really want to do next year.

The first is to attend the NAB Show with hubby. For those who do not work in the same industry as I do, NAB is an annual event and is one of the - if not, THE - biggest exhibit for media practitioners. As far as I know, it is traditionally held at Las Vegas, Nevada every year. Aside from giving exclusive sneak peeks into the newest, most cutting-edge equipment from suppliers all over the world, they also provide the latest information on new media, IPTV, Video-on-Demand, etc. As their tagline sums it up, it's "Where Content Comes to Life." Visit this page if you want to learn more.

Okay, so that really isn't my purpose. Of course, it would be nice to visit the exhibit but I'm really more interested in the shopping and side trips (SO SUE ME!!!). This will be hubby's third time to visit the exhibit, if ever, and he's been wanting to bring me along for the longest time. First time around, we did not have any budget so that was out of the question. Last year, it was largely my fault because I waited until the last minute before I started thinking of my US Visa. So this year, I am starting early...in fact, I've already registered online as a participant. Which, in my opinion, is pretty good timing, considering I'm back working with a broadcast company.

Shopping/side trips notwithstanding, the main reason I want to go the US is to settle some personal issues. It's not really for sharing, but for the very select who knows where I'm coming from, this trip would really mean a lot to me.

The second thing I want to do by 2012 is to have another baby. Figured it's about time we give our son a sibling. After all, it's really lonely to be an only child, and in all honesty, I can see how much our son is yearning to have someone his own age around the house. I also want to have a baby with the same Eastern astrology sign like I do...I'm thinking a double Dragon in the house will double our luck ;)

Owing to last year's big move, this "project" is actually quite overdue. I know it sounds selfish of me but I've procrastinated because of career-related decisions. I was in the middle of two countries and as far as I perceived it, my job was not as stable as I wanted it to be. I wanted to make sure both hubby and I will be able to provide a comfortable life both for our present family plus the new addition (if ever), so we decided not to seriously pursue Baby #2.

These past few weeks, however, have seen us being less...ahem...careful in the hope that nature just takes its course. We're not getting any younger and time's certainly a-wastin'. Given that we're anticipating the blessing of another bundle of joy in the near future, I am now unsure of how I can travel to the US.

Both goals are equally important to me. So what's the best way to deal with a dilemma? Leave it up to the Divine Writer, of course.

I struck a deal with my Writer (as if I'm really in a position, hahaha!). I told Him, okay, if You feel it's time for me to settle all my personal issues, the stork will not be coming until after I'm done with the US trip. If, however, You want to tell me that the time is not yet ripe, then we will be welcoming a Dragon baby sometime around the 4th quarter of 2012.

The next few months will be a wait-and-see approach. In the meantime, I'll just apply for the US Visa in case He wants me to go exercise my retail privileges ;)

A major change and all those blessings in between

I can't believe it's almost the end of the year! It seems only last week when I was driven up the wall, packing all my stuff to go home to good old Manila, saying hasty goodbyes to everyone in Lah-Lah Land, and excitedly anticipating my first Christmas back home...and when I checked the calendar, it's been almost a year since then. 11 months, 3 weeks and 4 days ago, to be precise.

And so life goes on.

I am currently in the middle of yet another major change. Now that I think of it, some of the biggest changes in my life came around October/November. It was around that time 11 years ago that my ex-boyfriend and I decided to become a couple (and now I'm married to the guy!). This time last year saw me moving homes between two countries. And now I am in the midst of moving on to another job.

Well, not exactly moving on. Sort of a homecoming, I should say. I finally accepted an offer from the TV station I used to work with to rejoin them. Not as a talent anymore (not that I would mind), but as a regular employee that would allow me to work within the sphere I had been so used to for more than 10 years, yet be able to keep more reasonable hours (or so I hope). Coming home to Manila to go back to what I've loved doing all this time...I have no other way to call it but poetic justice.

But no matter how sweet the offer was, I was in a quandary for some time, thinking of ways of how to break it to my current employer. After all, there was no love lost between us when I decided to move countries. In fact, they have given me the most unheard-of and the most considerate employee arrangement I've ever found myself in: I was given the chance to keep my job abroad while working at home in Manila. I'd like to think I've done something right in all that time I was employed with them, because no ordinary person would deserve that. And no ordinary boss will just shell out that privilege for that matter.

And so now you understand why my resignation letter was just a blank white page for almost a week after signing the offer sheet from New Employer. I felt like a traitor.

But...

...my Divine Writer reminded me that following His plans does not make one a sell-out. One fine morning, I opened my office email and I found just the solution I was waiting for. My boss emailed me saying he needed to cancel my work permit as he had exceeded his quota for foreign workers. Of course, not being based there made me the best candidate because I didn't really need a permit to work/stay there anymore. Note that while he was saying he needed to cancel my work pass, he was still considerate enough to ask me what the implications would be on my end.

After reading the message, I felt it was the cue I was waiting for. If that wasn't Divine Intervention, I don't know what else is. And so I emailed him my resignation letter. (Fine, I know it isn't exactly within the boundaries of etiquette that one emails the boss her resignation letter...but, hey, this is an unconventional set-up and I place myself as an exception)

If you're curious about the contents of my letter, suffice it to say that I decided to come clean. I felt honesty was the way to go. So I told them I was given an offer to go back to my industry of choice, with a very good position, to boot. And that a work-at-home set-up was not as ideal as I thought it would be. Boss graciously accepted the letter and simply told me that "the possibility to pursue one's desire or aspiration is truly immeasurable." Awww :')

So that's Blessing Number 1. Going back to the old without burning any bridges. It feels great.

And as if that wasn't enough, we were given yet another surprise. Hubby got some unexpected recognition from his bosses for all his hard work. Without really going into the details (he hates it that I post so much about our lives online...), the recognition cemented, more than anything, that this is really where we're supposed to be.

And the biggest blessing of all...

(No, I'm not [yet] pregnant. I leave the timing to my Divine Writer.)

Hubby and I took a leap of faith and invested in our family's future. We bought a piece of property that we thought is a good buy. At first, we were having second thoughts because we felt we might not have enough resources to finance that. But, you know what, the Big Guy Up There wasn't quite finished with us. He proved yet again that when you follow His plans, He will provide. And provide the resources He did. And so we found ourselves signing contracts and issuing cheques like there's no tomorrow.

All these changes are a happy-kind-of-scary feeling. All the decisions we took in the past few months and weeks feel so grown-up.

However, we remain child-like in one matter: our faith. We believe we are on the right path, and when we stay positive, we witness that the universe conspires to listen to the quiet whispers of our hearts :)

Sad Day

iBelieve iSpeak for an entire generation when iSay iMourn the passing of an iCon.

Thank you, Steve Jobs, for putting the future in the palms of our hands. Rest well and Sync in Peace.

Photo from apple.com

5 Years Old Tomorrow

I was backtracking my posts today and realised tomorrow is my blog's 5th year anniversary. That said, I have to think of something worthwhile to post.

I need inspiration.

Etude House Haul

Because I heard from a make up junkie friend that the Dr. Oil Solution Anti Shine Dual Primer was worth a try, I decided to visit a nearby Etude House to buy myself one. This is Part 2 of my continuing search for the perfect make up primer.

And because a girl [like me] simply cannot walk into a cosmetic shoppe and get just one thing, here's a teaser of my haul:

All these cost me only PHP2,000 (less than USD50)

Clockwise, from left: Collagen Moistfull Essence-in Foundation (Natural Beige), Dr. Oil Solution Anti-Shine Dual Primer Moisture and Pore Cover, Surprise Essence Concealer, Nail Lacquer and Perfect Brow Kit.

So far, I have tried everything once. Will post reviews when I get to know them better.

Spoiler Brats

Obviously, this is a rant-related post.

Today is the American Idol Season 10 finale. As expected, there are some who just couldn't resist posting the results.

It's probably my fault that I checked my FB and Twitter accounts right before the winner was declared. Serves me right. Now I know who the winner is even before I've seen the show.

What is it with certain people's desire to announce to the world that they're the first to know? Is it a childish impulse? Is it a deep seated wish to be superior to everyone else? Or is it simply to annoy others? And I'm not just talking about AI results. It could be a boxing match, the Oscars, the FIFA championship match...you know, those things that you'd rather watch from start to finish. Reminds me of that one time many years ago when I said I wanted to watch "The Sixth Sense", and my colleague pointed out that Bruce Willis was a ghost. Thank goodness she hasn't found her way to my friend's list (yet).

I know that some of those who post the spoilers probably just forget the fact that we live in different time zones. That's an honest mistake and it's forgivable. But I'm sure that, on your friend's list, you can readily identify who the spoiler brats are.

I have a few on my list. And my expectations did not fail me. They did post the information on their status messages.

I know that in this day and age, things like that are inescapable. Events are already on the news as they unfold. One of the pitfalls of technology, I guess. I just wish that some individuals would learn to be a bit more sensitive (especially if most of their friends live in the same time zone as theirs!). And if it isn't the most ironic of ironies, they themselves are some of the most sensitive and reactionary people I know...as if the world owes them sensitivity when they themselves are not ready to give it.

The "unfriend" button lurks somewhere and is giving me a knowing look. It's probably a better friend at this point.

Maroon 5 and the Rapture

I know I said previously that I would do one of three things: sell my tickets, give them away or throw them out. Well, I ate my words and I went ahead to watch Maroon 5, anyway.

First of all, let me tell you that I will NEVER EVER EVER again buy silver tickets if a concert is going to be staged at the SMX Convention Centre. It's just not worth it. The stage was too far away, and being vertically challenged didn't help my case. And there were those POSTS in the middle of the venue. And the SCAFFOLDING. And those BOUNCERS that were just all over the place and would happily stand in front of you. And those gold ticket holders who STOOD on their effing chairs.

I miss Singapore's concert scene. I was always close enough to feel the artists' sweat splash down on me. And tickets are not ridiculously expensive.

As a result of that, I have no decent pictures to show. After trying to video everything on my phone (no DSLRs allowed inside...) and realising just how crappy my view was, I contented myself with just plain audio recording. And, yeah, just watching and letting the music take over me.

They played a few songs from each of their three albums. But, of course, the crowd responded best to their hits from the first album such as "This Love", "She Will Be Loved", "Harder to Breathe" and "Sunday Morning".

If only for the music, it was worth it to go to the concert. I would definitely watch them again, given a chance. But, like I said, forget about silver tickets. And I think the concert organisers could do better next time. Judging by the less-than-stellar attendance (there were a lot of people, but not enough to be a sold-out concert), perhaps poor marketing (the sponsors' booths were really dismal and I felt the mileage was not worth the bang) and over-zealous bouncers (imagine stopping teenage kids from bouncing on the floor - they were having a good time, for crying out loud!), the organisers still have loooots of room for improvement.

That said, I don't regret going to the concert because it's still Maroon 5, after all. And I still think Adam Levine is sexeeehhh.

**********

So watching the concert was my first post-apocalyptic act. And here was hubby and I's last act a few hours before the alleged Rapture:

Just in case we didn't have enough time to grab our wedding bands.

L'Oreal Base Magique - Does It Really Work Like Magic?

I've been on the look out for a good make up primer for the past few weeks. Blame it on the upcoming wedding season and all those photo ops that come with such occasions. After all, why would I want my oily face tagged on Facebook, right? 

Dang you, Mark Zuckerberg. Not only have you redefined social networking, you've also succeeded in being the bane of every girl's wardrobe and make up kit.

Anyway, what got me interested in a primer was the fact that I hate retouching. And with the temperature soaring and me sweating like a pig, my make up is bound to be all gone within 10 minutes of heat. I also tend to sweat up along the eyelids, so you can just imagine how my eyeshadow is going to hold up at 34 degrees Celsius. Since one of the weddings I'm attending is a beach wedding, I decided it's about time a primer found its home in my make up kit.

I visited some cosmetic counters and found primers from MAC and Shisheido but I found them a bit too pricey for a product that I'll be trying for the first time. One jar can easily cost me above USD50, so until the primer firmly establishes itself as a need, I decided to hold off my purchase and looked for a more inexpensive alternative.

And here's what I found:

L'Oreal Base Magique Transforming Smoothing Primer

Here's how they describe the product:

"Transform your bare skin texture: The first smoothing primer that makes your lines and pores invisible for a visible and touchable smoothness.

A unique blend of silicon oils and soft light powders create a sensational smoothing velvet formula to refine the skin.

• Smooth wrinkles and fine lines
• Perfectly hides pores
• Skin imperfections are corrected

The rosy shade brings out the translucency on the bare skin tone."

Here's how the actual product looks like:

Photo from kikay.exchange.ph

The product is light pink in colour, with a smooth and velvety texture. Imagine baby powder mixed with silicon gel and you'll get the picture. At the L'Oreal counter, I tested the product on the skin on my hand and I was captivated by the dreamy smoothness. I also layered some liquid foundation on the patch of skin and discovered it blends quite well. I got myself a 50ml jar. Usual price is at PHP945 (about USD22), but since it was on sale, it was a steal at PHP709 (about USD16)!

One thing I learnt about handling this product is that a little goes a long way. I made the mistake of plunking small dots on my face, when what I should have actually done was loosen a small portion with my fingertips before applying on skin (What...? I was excited. So sue me.). As a result, the primer kind of caked in some areas of my face, so I had to reduce the amount of product before I could apply my foundation.

After I corrected that, I can tell you that my make up glided on smoothly. There was a noticeable difference especially in the eye area, as I felt the eyeshadow blended better and held on longer. My eye colour held up for the rest of the day, and looked as fresh as when I first applied it. Even my concealer and cheek colour stayed on. The T-zone was another story, however. In the future, I think I will use the product sparingly on that area, as there is a tendency to oil up as the day wears on. Nothing that a bit of powder can't fix, though.

I'm not too sure about the product's ability to "perfectly hide pores" and correct skin imperfections. I felt the concealer is still a must to hide some blemishes. Upon closer inspection, there was no noticeable difference in my pore size, but since they're not really big to begin with, I didn't find too much of an issue with that. However, if you have big pores and intend to hide it using this product, you might be a bit disappointed. As for hiding fine lines, well, I don't really think one product has the power to do that; I still think the best way to camouflage it would be to use a combination of moisturiser, primer, concealer and foundation...without overdoing it, of course.

Overall, I am quite satisfied with the product. Do note, though, that my purpose in trying out this primer is for my make up to hold longer. Hiding fine lines and blemishes was NOT my main motivation.

Would I buy this product again? I think so. It might actually be my go-to product because it is not that expensive, easy to find and does the job quite well. Would I finally invest in a MAC or Shisheido primer? Perhaps.

Has the primer firmly established itself as a make up essential? A resounding YES! :)

The L'Oreal Base Magique Transforming Smoothing Primer: 3.5 out of 5.

Disclaimer: This product review is based on my personal experience. It is in no way compensated by the company and does not necessarily reflect their own views of the product.

Grey Areas

Last week, I introduced my son to the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

He's noticed my DVD box set sitting in one of our shelves and had curiously inspected the cover. Many times over the past couple of weeks, he asked if he could watch it. At first, I refused because I thought the scenes and some characters might frighten him (i.e., Ring Wraiths and Orcs), and I thought the plot is a little too complex for him to understand.

Of course, how can a mother possibly win against a very persistent five-year-old? And so we went ahead and watched, with many caveats from me, telling him not to blame me if he gets scared.

My son surprised me yet again. He absolutely LOVED the trilogy! Actually, it seems he enjoyed it more than he did the Harry Potter series (of which he suffered only through half of the first movie, and hasn't since asked to watch it again). He did get a bit nervous seeing some of the scary characters - evidenced by very sweaty hands and feet, hahaha - but he got over it easier than I expected him to. Of course, I was right in predicting that the story was a bit hard for him to understand, but, hey, we're talking about a five-year-old, remember? And to his credit, he did comprehend most parts of the movie, and is able to summarise portions of it when I reviewed him. It goes without saying that his understanding came after hitting Mommy with questions at the rate of one bazillion questions per minute.

Amongst his many questions was about the colour of the characters. I saw it as an opportunity to educate him about symbolism in movies and literature in general.

SON: Mommy, how come the Ring Wraiths are black?
MOMMY: Because they're evil, and in films and books, black is used to symbolise very bad things.
SON: (faraway look, meaning he's digesting the piece of information)
MOMMY: See, even the Orcs and Uruk-hai warriors are black. Because they're evil. And Gandalf, who's good, is white. LOTR shows us a lot of battles between good and evil, so it's like black versus white.
SON: (blinks) So black is bad and white is good...?
MOMMY: (self-assured smile) Yes, that's right!
SON: (frowns) Then how come Saruman is white?

Gandalf and Saruman (from theonering.net)

Ahh, to have a precocious child...!

The other man

You were born on this day many summers ago.

Since the beginning, ours was a complicated relationship. Although we both know that our connection was never simple. But I loved you. Yes, in my own special way, I loved you.

I still do.

Yours is the kind of love my husband can never give me.

I've longed for your loving embrace for as long as I can remember. Without meaning to sound ungrateful for all the blessings I have, I look at others exchanging loving looks and feel a tinge of regret for that which we never had. For what we allowed to slip through our hands.

I know I've always said I want to live life without regrets. But sometimes I still think of all those missed chances. All those what-ifs.

What if I had more time with you?
What if you spent more time with me?
What if I knew you better?
What if you knew me better?
What if I fought harder for you?
What if you fought harder for me?

I'll never know.

All those firsts and lasts we've missed out on, we'll never have them back.

My first steps.
My first words.
My first day in school.
My first date.
My first heartbreak.
My first-born.

Your last day at work.
Your last vacation.
Your last cup of coffee.
Your last farm harvest.
Your last words.
Your last breath.

But in spite of all those things, I still thank you.

I thank you for teaching me acceptance. How all things that come to pass happen for a reason.

I thank you for teaching me strength. How the loudest voices can be found in the silence of one's heart.

I thank you for teaching me faith. How you can always find something to believe in even when all else fails.

I thank you for teaching me the meaning of unconditional love. How it is measured not by how much it receives, but how much it gives.

Papa, so many things were left unsaid between us. And while I may never know what's on your mind, you can now see inside my heart.

But if there's any "firsts" that I will never forget, it's that you taught me the very first song I know:

I wanna give
I wanna give my love to you completely
I beg of you
I beg of you to listen to my heart.

I've never prayed like this before
But I'm asking you not to close the door
For I can tame the wind and smooth the waters
If you just let me.

I wanna give
I wanna give you all the strength within me
To make a world
To make a world that cannot fall apart.

And you can sit upon a throne
And I'll give it all just for you alone
For I can tame the wind and smooth the waters
If you just let me.

The first song I've ever learnt is perhaps the last solid earthly link I have to you. And it will be the only song that will be in my heart for eternity.

I love you, Papa. Happy birthday.

The anniversary gift

"The course of true love never did run smooth."

~A Midsummer Night's Dream 

In my previous entry, we were a few days away from our 6th anniversary and I did not have a gift for my husband yet. Like I mentioned, he had just been away on a business trip and was able to squeeze in some time for shopping, and so at the moment, he had everything he wanted and needed.

So I surprised him with these:

Okay, so it wasn't really a surprise. He already knew I bought these in advance. We're both fans, and their first album was our constant companion during our long drives home, back when we were still working for a television network. It's also the same CD that put our then-infant son to sleep the moment he sits in the car. Initially, I wanted to get the gold tickets, but after discussing with a good friend, I realised it would be more practical to settle with the silver ones. So I went ahead to purchase a couple of them. Sure, the concert will be almost a month after our anniversary, but the timing shouldn't really matter when you're in the company of your other half.

Apparently, this concert is not meant for us.

About a week after I made the purchase, hubby broke the news that he needs to go overseas for an important training. It's not something he can miss nor pass on to somebody else. And it will be on May 24. I was a bit crestfallen, but he said he can still figure out a way to watch the concert, then take the first flight out. Sounded like a good plan.

But the airlines weren't on our side. The earliest flights available were all fully booked, and the next available ones are already too late for him to make it to the training.

Eff it. Eff it. EFF IT!

To his credit, my husband generally tried to be inconspicuous for the remainder of yesterday (he broke the news to me late afternoon). I guess it wasn't hard to stay out of the way of a scowling wife. And even when I was snapping at him at the rate of about once every millisecond, he never lost his patience and remained calm, giving me small, apologetic smiles. I think that one infuriated me even more. And so while the rest of the world oohed and aahed over Kate Middleton's gown, I was simmering in my own temper and busily pondering my botched concert plans (although I did spare some time to gawk at the lovely, lovely hats).

Seeing how upset I was, hubby told me that I can just go ahead and watch it. He knew how badly I wanted to see it. But, for the life of me, how can I go on and enjoy it when my heart was set on having him as my concert date? And, for crying out loud, it was my anniversary gift to him! So I told him I lost all my desire to watch the concert, and that I was selling the tickets. If nobody wants to buy it, I guess I'll just throw them away or give it away, whichever comes first. The bottomline was, I felt pissed to the high heavens, and could he just give me a few days to calm down because I wasn't really feeling him at the moment.

Today, he was still wearing a contrite look as he left to attend some meetings. While I'm not expecting him to say sorry because it wasn't really his fault, I don't think I am going to apologise for being so pissed off, because I feel I have every right to be: I can't go to the concert date I had planned for us, and I am expected to just accept it because it's all about work. It brought back memories of when he was not around on my birthday two years ago, a first in our 10 years of being together. And, yes, work-related travel was again the culprit.

Sometimes, it's hard to be an understanding wife.Especially when you have a husband with this kind of a job. I know it's a small price to pay for the benefits we receive, in terms of financial rewards and career growth for my husband. But I guess this is part of the work that goes in a marriage. It can't be rosy all the time.

Now that I have some time alone, I realise I was probably too hard on him, considering he might be dealing with his guilt, too. So tonight, when he comes home, I'll probably be less likely to bite his face off and make up for the crabbiness by cooking him dinner. I don't think I'll be 100% back to my normal self yet (especially since I keep seeing all those concert plugs on TV), but knowing me, it won't take me more than three days to forget about this brouhaha.

How glad I am I have this book to keep me company:

 

They don't call it chicken soup for nothing. It's like balm on my frazzled wifely nerves. If you're married or in a relationship (whether you're a man or a woman), I suggest you get a copy of this book. It has the ability to remind you how trivial some of our concerns are. The book chose to give me a bitch slap with a quote from Malcolm Forbes: "Presence is more than just being there."

 

I'll be in a better mood tomorrow. I promise.

P.S. If you know anyone interested in my concert tickets, do let me know. Thanks in advance.

On sacrifices, celebrations and tributes

I've given up social networking. At least, for the time being. This is part of a Lenten "tradition" I started since I was maybe around 12 years old. I give up something I really like as a form of sacrifice. Back then, it's as simple as eschewing chips or chocolates or watching TV.

So, yeah, this year, it's all about giving up Facebook and Twitter. Which delighted my husband, because he's convinced I'm addicted to them. (Perhaps. But I'm bored, what can I do...???)

**********

We're celebrating two very special occasions towards the end of the month. First, it will be my son's 5th birthday on the 24th (Easter Sunday!). We won't be having a big party, but we will nevertheless celebrate the special day. I already placed an order for a Tom and Jerry cake (currently his favourite cartoon), which I'll be picking up on Sunday morning. I was actually fearing the worst when I dropped by the cake shoppe yesterday, forgetting that most establishments are closed on Thursday and Friday (meaning there would be less days for them to work on my order). Thank goodness the lady at the counter was very nice and gave in to my pleadings :)

After my baby blows his birthday candles, we'll probably be off to Fun Ranch or wherever his little heart desires. The day is all about him so, while we have no concrete plans yet, our little master-of-the-day will be the one navigating our journey. Good times.

Come the 28th, it's time for us to celebrate our 6th wedding anniversary. Every year, hubby and I feel that the wedding date is sort of anticlimactic, as what we really celebrate is our boyfriend-girlfriend anniversary, which is already going on its 11th year. Still, we do make it a point to spend quality time by ourselves, because whether or not it's the "real" anniversary, it is the day we made our formal commitment, right?

But...but...but...! I have no gift for the hubby yet...! And I am on panic mode! 

I did purchase Maroon 5 tickets for the two of us, but the concert is still on May 23, which is almost one month post-anniversary. And I don't really know what else to get him, because on his recent trip to Vegas, he shopped till he dropped and so he's got everything he needs (and wants).

I have a few days to come up with a really bright idea. Sigh.

**********

Speaking of Vegas, hubby brought home the cutest M&M's I've ever seen.

Pastel-coloured peanut M&M's (photo taken from malamutechaos' flickr photostream)

Plain M & M's (photo from mtnman.com)

They're so cute I don't want to eat them. I just like looking at the yummy (and oh-so-girly) colours. And since this was probably the only kiddie shoppe hubby could find at Vegas, he brought home USD50 worth of candies for our son! 

Either that, or he really just had a grand time getting the candies...and who wouldn't?!?! (photo from flickr)

**********

On a more serious note, I realise it's been almost a year since my big discovery. I won't go into the details since it's not really something I feel like sharing with the general blogging community. Suffice it to say, it was an earth-shattering experience for me...and almost a year later, I'm fine. I really am.

Truthfully, I feel a bit scared of myself. At times I think I'm becoming too desensitised. Yes, I know it's a defense mechanism, but still...sometimes it bothers me that I can't be bothered anymore, know what I mean?

To celebrate this "milestone" of sorts, I got inked again:

I got the butterfly last year, a tribute of sorts to my father, and as a symbol for my "metamorphosis". This year, I added the branch on my shoulder, which shows sakura flowers falling, which represents leaving my past and moving on. My mantra, alis volat propriis, is inked beside the butterfly. It is a Latin phrase (a language I love, by the way) which means "she flies with her own wings".

That branch on my shoulder? Fucking hurts. The fact that the most painful part of the inking process was the visual symbolising the past is, I think, poetic justice.

Perhaps I'm not desensitised, after all.

Cleaning up and keeping it clean

Has it been that long since I've last visited my blog? I can't believe my last entry was December last year. And it's now March!

So apologies to you, my dear neglected blog. I promise to be more faithful. (Or at least, I'll try...!)

Anyway, a lot has happened in between the last blog entry and this one. For one thing, the family is back at home. As in THE homeland. To make the long story short, hubby was asked to service some local clients, and so we all went back en masse and said goodbye to Lah Lah Land, if you catch my drift.

How come I wasn't this happy when I was packing?!

It was a stressful few weeks leading up to the big move. It was a happy thought that we were going back home, but then again, it's another cross-country move...and after I took a good look at all the odds and ends we've accumulated in the past couple of years staying abroad, well, suffice it to say that I got tired just trying to organise everything in my head. And it was even more stressful to try to fit in the last few years' worth of your life in about seven super-sized freight boxes. No wonder expats tend to give away really good stuff before they move back home. I totally dig that now.

So the next phase after packing everything is...unpacking. That was even more dreadful. After cramming as much stuff as we could into the boxes - about 60% of which is comprised of my sons TOYS (dear Lord, does he really have that much???) - I had to personally sift through them and put them back in our old house. Which, by the way, holds most of the stuff we left behind last 2008. Two household's worth of stuff to cram back into one home. And as if to add insult to injury, we decided that now would be a good time to renovate the house, after portions of it fell into [slight] disrepair.

Holy effing cow. I'm getting tired again just recalling the details.

I ended up packing most of our old stuff into large boxes. That included usable clothes, toys, magazines, DVDs/VCDs, books, etcetera, ad infinitum. Some I gave away to our carpenters (especially the baby stuff like cribs - one of them had a toddler who could still use it). Some of them I gave away to my nanny (so sometimes I have to do a double take when she comes in because she dresses like me at times, hahaha). The rest, I plan to donate to charity, because majority of them are really in good condition. I just don't have the patience space to keep them now. So if anyone wants to organise a garage sale or is planning to donate to some charity, do let me know. I am very interested.

Today, I see the term "spring cleaning" in a whole new light. Because after this very stressing move, I cannot STRESS enough how important it is to look through your things at least twice a year.

So now, I have a new resolution. I vow to go through the family's stuff every so often and dispose of the things that just collect dust. You really have no idea how much usable space you have until you take out the stuff that's just sitting there. (You know what I'm talking about...you know that bag that's staring at you from the back of your wardrobe, waiting for the next time you feel like using it? Yeah, that's the one.)

When was the last time you've peeked in your wardrobe? I beg you, please, declutter. It's for your own sanity.

*Photos courtesy of Getty Images.

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.