The Momma Bag

Under the Sea...or something like it

2011-05-26T13:49:00.000+08:00

(reposted from my old blog)

They couldn't wait to get there. (Sigh)

In the bus: "Are we there yet?" "Are we getting off now?"

We got off and I hailed a taxi. "What! we still have to ride again?!"

Noah: "Can we get down now? Is it here?"

Me: "We're almost there. Konti na lang."

Finally, we arrived at the Manila Ocean Park. Caleb and Noah were all over the place..like it wasn't their first time. Running here and there. I had to call out to them that we had to get tickets first.

It was actually the monthly staff get-together of the company I work for. We were free to bring our kids. So I grabbed the opportunity to spend quality time with my sons. Nanee? Well I wanted to take her along too, but my husband said, "Next time na lang. She's too young and you'll have your hands full with the two boys..." So Nanee stayed "home."

Although I would have to say that the place was dark, as in really dark (we were even told to disable our camera's flash), my two boys really had a blast. I guess they wanted the dark to highlight the smaller aquariums that housed the exotic fish species.

At first Caleb and Noah were worried about losing sight of me in the dark. (What with all those people--it was a Saturday.) But I told them, "Just have a great time. Enjoy. Don't worry about getting lost. I won't let that happen. I have both my eyes on the two of you." So hand in hand they went from aquarium to the next. Ooohing and aahing and wowing at each sight. They particularly enjoyed touching the starfish. I had to practically pry them from the starfish tank.

As much as I would want to give a really descriptive narration here, I doubt that at this time. This is kind of a rush entry. I just want to say my kids had fun. I hope whatever photos I uploaded tells the story.

Anyway, on a scale of 10 I'd rate the watery park an 8. I found the glass tunnel that was supposed to make you feel like you were under the sea a bit overhyped. It was too short for me and the actual lighting was not the same as that on their webphotos (What did I expect?). For a mom, I found their "fishspa" too pricey (P120 per head!) even if I gave in to Caleb's request to try it out.

The so-called FishSpa was simply an enclosure with two small square pools (about 6-7ft by 4ft) with fish in about 12 inches or more of water. You were supposed to take of your shoes and socks or whatever footwear you might have on, roll up your pants and sit at the edge of the pool with your feet in the water. If you sit still enough the fish will come and massage your feet and give you a really neat pedicure. Am joking of course. They just gathered around your feet and picked off the dust or grime or what-have-you on your feet. Ugh! if you ask me really.

The boatride was even more expensive! (P150 per head and you don't have the boat to yourself; you share it with 5 other people who paid the same price. What's supposed to be great about it? Well, you're supposed to row atop the humongous glass aquarium. But actually the boat floats on water that has a glass bottom. Parang virtual rowing out to sea or something.

No! I did not get my kids tickets to the boatride. That was just too much. I just coaxed them towards the souvenir shop where they got to pick remembrances of their trip. We spent about an hour and a half for the whole tour of the oceanarium. The rest of the Ocean Park was still under construction. (Yes, they're not completely done with it.)

We were famished. The boys were whining that they were hungry. When I learned that we were no longer going to have a meeting, I hailed a cab and took my boys to SM Mall of Asia. The food outlets at the Ocean Park were already full. Those that weren't were not serving rice--mostly pizza, cookies, noodles. We ended up at a really lunch-crowded McDonalds. The boys didn't want to walk any further to look for a better place to eat. So we bought our lunch and settled down. We took a brief stroll in the mall after lunch then headed home.

I was smiling because they had really big smiles on their faces even when we were on the bus headed for home.

Nanee

2011-05-26T13:36:00.001+08:00

(reposted from my old blog)
The first time I let her down on the beach she took a careful look at the sand and cautiously put down on foot with the other slightly raised. "Dirty!" she cried. And I said, "No, Nanee. It isn't dirty. It's called sand." She wasn't convinced as she looked up at me with a grimace on her face.

So I took off my sneakers, dug my feet into the sand and wiggled out my toes. She smiled and said, "Take off shoes..." I did and she started feeling the sand with her bare feet. I suppose she loved the sensation because after that she was smiling and walking around, toeing the sand, picking it up in her stubby hands and flinging it around.

I brought out the beach toys I had brought along for the occasion: plastic spade, rake, small wheelbarrow, dinosaur mold and hippo mold. She began digging and raking and piling up sand. Pure fun.

Later, I changed her into her "wet suit" which were basically just a tanktop and girlie briefs. I put up her hair in a pony tail and off she went with her exploration of the beach. I took her out to the sea a couple of hours afterwards. We ran to meet the waves crashing in on the shore. She squealed then reached up her arms for me to carry her. I guess she found the breakers too much to deal with. But she was most certainly fearless for a two-year old at her first time at the beach.

Paid Beach Bum

2011-04-09T01:57:00.000+08:00

I seem to have this recurring career fantasy these days: getting paid to tryout beach resorts around the world. Talk about a whole new meaning to the phrase "paid vacations". I even have in my computer, a couple of folders with beach images and beachfront houses. Except on this blog, my profile pics on other social media are beach scenes.

The sea always leaves me enthralled and exhilarated. It can be angry and terrifying as well as tranquil and quiet.It is vast but has definite boundaries as it kisses the shore and grasps at it longingly. The beach is where sand and sea hold hands. That's why I also think it's romantic.The resorts and vacation places built on and around the beaches are simply accessories on a natural beauty.

I love the idea of swinging from a hammock between palms, feeling the sea breeze gently go through my hair while I listen to seashells whispering the secrets of the sea, all the while tapping on my laptop keys a review of the resort and its service. I email the review then hop on a plane to the next sun-and-sand place to be reviewed. (sigh) It's like a never-ending vacation. And the best part is I get paid for it! Not to mention the added perks of adventure and meeting new people at each place.

Plop! Time to burst the fantasy bubble. Reality is I have four kids that still need my undivided attention. Hying off to exotic beaches one after the other is so not possible unless I choose to abandon my kids or raise them via the internet or through my mobile phone.

Okay, maybe I should just try for another career fantasy. How about writing reviews of restaurants or food joints. I love to eat anyway. Who doesn't? But then if I think of all those calories and fats ending up on my ever widening and plumping middle, well, that kills the fantasy. I do have a fast metabolism rate but somehow everything gathers in the middle.

Oh well, I think I'll stick with my reality for the moment. Who knows, I might make the beach obsession a reality after my youngest goes to college--which feels like some lightyears away. (groan)

Crisis Comparisons

2011-04-07T02:04:00.000+08:00

Two weeks ago, I had a horrid internet connection crisis. It first started out as intermittent connection but then it got worse. I'd only have suspicious patches of connection. Suspicious because there seemed to be a "schedule". I'd only be connected at around 10am, lose connection after lunch and then connection gets back around 3 pm. This weird internet connection schedule recurred for a week in spite of repeated calls to my ISP's customer service. The temptation to rant and rave was great but since I used to work in a call center, I knew those reps there didn't really know what was going on. They are given a set of spiels for the day or week depending on what's going on with the company that hired them. And so I resigned myself to filing a no connection report almost everyday. And as expected, they always promised some sort of action within 24 hours. (eyeroll)

Anyways, my connection crisis persisted for another week getting worse each day until I had no connection at all. Of course my boss had to call me, on a Saturday morning yet! And I found myself at the receiving end of another corporate version of ranting and raving. I think it's my third within my almost four years with the company. Hmm...I'm averaging one per year, aren't I.

What with my crummy internet connection, my work was lagging and my make up schedules were piling up. Not a very good impression on management or the client I was assigned to. I was fully aware of that. But my home-office situation is kinda complicated. Too long to explain here so I'll leave it at that--kinda complicated. Which meant I could not readily go out to some internet shop and continue my work there.

So the pressure was on and I resented the time limit. I had no control over my internet connection. It was my ISP's problem. I thought they ought to cut me some slack. Now I wanted to rant and rave about my ISP and boss.

And suddenly perspective hits. My personal crisis gets swallowed by Japan's earthquake-cum-tsunami disaster. Talk about crisis! Have they got a biggie in their hands! And I'm suddenly thinking, hey ho! compared to theirs, my internet crisis doesn't even register on the crisis scale.

While I got annoyed over intermittent/zilch internet in my home, imagine how a lot of Japanese were not only annoyed over the sight of their cars and neighborhood being swept away by an angry rush of water. While I sulked over my boss' irate phone call, too many Japanese people were too numbed to discover they no longer had jobs or sources of income.

Even if I can argue that a crisis can be relative and any one's crisis can be real as real can be no matter how small it may seem to others, still you have to get the right perspective. See the bigger picture. Only then can you shut up and be grateful. =)

Walk your talk please lang...pwede?!

2011-02-23T19:27:00.001+08:00

Annoying. Upsetting. Teeth-gritting. Patience-snapping etc etc etc. Don't you just find it so friggingly insufferable when someone close to you tells you to accomplish something when they haven't done better in that area--worse, they sort of "cheated".

Isa pa kasi, kanya-kanyang diskarte yan as it is the case with most things. So don't talk to people like they're dumb or slow or not doing anything where the issue is concerned. Even if you admit that you haven't done as much on your part all the more doesn't give you the right to pressure the other person. It is rude, unfair and downright arrogant to assume that just because you're close to the person or a relative or a loved one you have the right to tell them what to do and how to do it. There's a way of relaying a message without antagonizing the recipient. Gets?!

Sabihin na natin na you feel compelled to put in your two cent's worth because you're the team leader, it still doesn't count especially if you haven't accomplished the EXACT SAME GOAL!

For all you know, the person knows just how urgent, vital, critical and red-alert level the situation is. Brand this into your brain: no two people will accomplish a goal the same way. Each person is unique and for crying out loud, God works in them according to the gifts, personality and situation HE has allowed to them. Or has this piece of information slipped your brain? So just chillax lang pwede. Kung walang nangyayari after a reasonable amount of time considering the given conditions tsaka ka mag rant and rave. OKAY?!!!! Gawin mo muna. Ikaw ang mauna to accomplish it without "cheating." If that happens, baka maconvince mo pa ako na ma-pressure to accomplish the same goal.

Pero sa totoo lang ha, these things really take time and lots of bended knees. And the openings are not in my hands--it's in God's. I cannot force people to hang out with me. Building rapport takes time. So chill. It will happen when it happens.

And now my apologies to anyone who has stumbled upon this post and read. Just skip it if it hurts your sensitivity and read another blog. Come back na lang another time when there's a more sensible post. Peace!

The Kitchen Sink

2011-02-16T01:08:00.000+08:00

Who would've thought I'd find refuge in the most unlikely place--the wall fronting my kitchen sink! I was surprised myself, come to think of it.

Today just wasn't my day. It didn't start out right and it didn't go well. The kids were having a field day all over the house while I had to meet my quota of processed mall links for the day. Aggravatingly enough, no matter how many times I mentally pep-talked myself that "attitude is altitude", I honestly could not muster enough motivation to turn things around.

Did I hear someone ask, "Have you tried praying?" Yes, I did. But it was more like frantic 911 calls every hour to the heavens to have mercy on me and grant some divine intervention. I was thinking about being bodily whisked away to some far flung island with white-sand beach, a hammock between two palm trees, soft sea breeze and quietness. NOT!

Divine intervention came in the form of my on-autopilot-body pouring hot water into a mug of instant coffee+milk+sugar, pulling up a chair against the wall facing my kitchen sink and clinging on to the steaming mug for dear life. The wall was a surprisingly comforting buffer that partially separated the kitchen from the rest of the house. I could still hear the kids but they couldn't see me and vice versa. I even put up my feet on the counter top and watched the slow trickle of water from the leaky faucet.

Miraculously not one of my spawns decided to take a peek and see where I had disappeared to. And for a few minutes I had some me-time. Not what I exactly had in mind every time I craved for some me-time but pleasantly surprising that it did the job to settle me.

Hey, my God is the God of the impossible so He could've easily taken me to my dream me-time spot on the beach at the blink of an eye. However, that divinely sponsored vanishing act would've frightened the kids so He gave me the most practical spot available. *sigh* Okay, maybe next time...

Woohoo! I Got My Period! ... and other woohoos!

2011-02-10T01:49:00.000+08:00

Yes, I actually jumped for joy (and relief) when I got my period last month...and early this month as well. Why the woohoo and jump-for-joy number? Well, having my period means I AM NOT PREGNANT! Okay okay. With all due respect and sensitivity to all women out there wishing their period wouldn't show up because they'd rather that a baby turns up in it's place, I WISH YOU THE BEST BABY EVER!
May you have all the babies you've always wanted. Really. Honest.

It's just that with me, well, I consider my quiver full with four kids. Three sons and one daughter. Great mix and interesting personalities enough for me to handle for a lifetime. (Broad smile) But seriously, to be entrusted with co-shaping and co-mentoring the lives of four uniquely created persons is already a God-size responsibility. I am humbled. I am blessed. And I am definitely honored.

This situation with my monthly period wasn't punctuated with joy in the past. I'd be grumpy and always rant that I should've been a guy. I've even gone to the point of saying that when the world is over and I get to see Eve in the great yonder, the first thing I'd do is slap her. Yeah, I know. I'm crazy. But God sure has a way of handing out an eye opener. I never thought I'd be so happy to welcome my period. Another lesson in giving thanks in all situations.

And now on to the other woohoos! I've been assigned to mentor and disciple three women leaders in our church. Humbling. It's actually a challenge to step up in my daily walk with God so as to set a good example. Our weekly meetings are not only fun but encouraging and uplifting.

Another woohoo! is the fact that my firstborn will be graduating from elementary school this year. Yup, I'm on my way to having a teenager. God help me! Challenging as well as exciting at the same time.

And a final woohoo! Our church fam is celebrating its 7th year anniversary this month. Jubilee year! This year's theme is "Reaching Your Generation." It's time to snap out of our comfort zones and get moving with the Great Commission!

And there you have it...my major WooHoo! moment and other woohoos!

Pancit Overload

2010-12-10T04:36:00.001+08:00

photo courtesy of dbgg1979

Pancit should be named national snack or national celebration food or national something. I mean, we've allowed Manny Pacquiao to be officially tagged as the Pambansang Kamao (National Fist--sounds funny in English really) why not include the ever-present noodle dish in the list of national thingies, right?

It seems to be present in all corners of the archipelago in different noodle varieties, flavors and plating. My Dad comes from a province where they have one called pancit habhab with "habhab" being roughly translated as "wolfing it down"--from a piece of banana leaf no less, after paying the streetfood vendor plying it. That's not all, one can further flavor it with a couple of dashes of local vinegar shaken out from a small bottle nesting on the vendor's cart. Of course, you can get pancit habhab from any of the panciteria (pancit joint/outlet/restaurant) in the area. Yes, they'll serve it to you on a banana leaf as well but don't expect the panciteria staff to include a fork or any flatware in your place setting unless you specifically request it. After all, you're supposed to "habhab" the pancit, right? Right.

But with the pancit being highly popular and common, I definitely have my days when I shudder at the sight of a plate of pancit. Don't get me wrong. I love pancit...ok I simply like pancit especially the bihon guisado type with lots of veggie leaves. I'm also partial to pancit luglug and pancit palabok (I think these two are related or very similar). But there are days when this national noodle dish (there! I've named it myself.) gives me the heebee jeebies. One can only get a plate too many from neighbors and church members on special occasions like birthdays, most especially during town fiestas and of course the holidays...like Christmas! I think it's a close second to the Purefoods Fiesta Ham that's touted to be the "star of the Noche Buena" feast. Then again, maybe not. It's just the safe back-up food plan since it's an all-time favorite.

So what's the point of this pancit ranting? It's this: Please people! Enough already on the pancit overkill! I mean, let's make the dish real special again by not thinking it up and actually serving it every time a baby is christened or your son gets top honors in his class. And how about serving the not so common recipes for it during the holidays, huh? I'm dreading the thought of my neighbors or at least a couple of them might knock on my door and hand a neighborly token of the Yuletide season in the form of a plate of pancit. My kids aren't so hot about it. Oh they'll have a serving or two, especially my daughter. But I end up trying to eat a lot of what's left because I hate food wastage. Pity my ever growing waistline and cellulite-ridden thighs! All those carbs heading to those areas.

On second thought, maybe I don't have a point since I'd probably be shouted down by 90 plus million of my countrymen who adore and savor the ever-present and iconic pancit.

Will we have to relearn how to write with a pen?

2010-11-20T04:03:00.000+08:00

I wonder if by the turn of the century (or probably before that time), we'll all be needing to relearn the fast disappearing ability to write with a pen--on paper (the use of paper is vanishing as well! Most companies try to avoid a paper trail. It's now an email trail or electronic trail). Everything in our homes and schools and offices today are 99% manipulated by a button or a series of buttons or a set of keys on a keyboard or keypad! Yeah, pens and pencils can still be found in offices and schools. But mostly in schools, and in the much much lower grade levels. Even middle school kids now use netbooks, not to mention the new definition for notebook--this one isn't made of paper.

Think about it. Most of us work with computers. If it's not with our job, it's at home or in school or all three. We use our thumbs to punch in messages on our cellphones and we use a stylus to push virtual buttons or keys (again!) on the smooth surface of a smartphone screen or PC tablet. Please be reminded that using a stylus is not equal to writing.

Of course there will probably be some remnant people who will hold on to their skill in wielding a pen or pencil or crayon or any writing instrument that is gripped to write and not punched. People who love the smell of paper and deem as music the faint sound of a nib brushing against a surface, producing lovely lovely script or hasty scribblings or harsh jottings.

But by that time, I'm guessing this remnant pen writers will be labelled eccentric and there might even be an underground movement. Then again, my imagination just might be running away with me again.

Still, I'm one of those who love the scent of fresh, smooth, blank sheets of a journal. And writing my thoughts on them with a scented pen. I love journaling. I even advocate it. I used to do it A LOT! But honestly, these days, the thought of nailing my fast forward thoughts on paper with a pen just seems slow. I worry that those bright ideas might take flight before I can capture them with pen on paper. So, unabashedly, I turn to my PC keyboard to reel in and preserve those thoughts forever on a virtual space where either everyone or no one can read them.

But upon contemplation, I wouldn't want to lose my ability to write using a ballpoint pen or pencil. So I guess I'll just have to practice it--on my journaling. It will help keep me still and meditative as I pace my thoughts with my hands. And who knows, I might be considered as one of the eccentrics while the rest of the world relearns the art of writing with a pen.

Why I left the Facebook universe

2010-11-16T04:01:00.000+08:00

My real friends wanted to know why? Yes, why was I leaving such a popular, very convenient channel for getting connected with friends? Why?

Wala lang. Truly. Honestly. It was just one of those things I knew I needed to do that probably seems strange to others for lack of a concrete reason. Okay...

Maybe I was getting tired of the whole thing. Or maybe bored would be a more appropriate adjective. Except with the handful of people I genuinely interact with.
Maybe it's because not all my 140+ FB "friends" were really trying to connect. Like I said above only a handful really interact.
Maybe the 140+ so-listed friends overwhelm me. Being an introvert at heart, I can honestly say I am happier with a few authentic friends than with a gazillion superficial ones. No offense meant to those who have reached the 5,000 friend limit allowed by Facebook. It's just that we're all different.
Maybe I resent the social network's haphazard use of the term "friend". I mean, other sites are more polite with the use of the term "contact". Then you're given the option to group those contacts accordingly, whether their friends, family, etc etc.
Maybe because even if it's supposed to connect people, all Facebook really does is keep an online directory of my acquaintances and so-called friends who don't really bother to connect or interact with me after I've confirmed them as a "friend" (I hate using quotations marks but I feel they're necessary in this case.) or have done my part in trying to connect with them.
Maybe it's the realization that checking out my FB feeds was bordering into an addiction-- not really necessary to check but I seem to be checking every chance I've got. Gotta cut clean before it's impossible to get out.

And the maybe list goes on...

One thing is for sure though. I did not delete my Facebook account primarily because of my hubby's thing about Mark Zuckerberg being an atheist and all. Although I am 100% sure my hubby has a point about a creator's or designer's spirit being present and flowing through the thing he has created or designed and it will affect those who interact with what he has created, I have to honestly say it is NOT my reason for deleting my account.

I'm just a tad bugged though, that my hubby had to rally his cause before I could delete my account.

Hey, I'd really love for the Facebook founder to have a real relationship with my God, Jesus Christ but we all have to make choices. And God doesn't, and never will, force His way into a person's life. He'd rather that we come to Him on our own volition and with all our hearts. If Zuckerberg wants to risk his life without God in spite of his talent and brilliance being exactly a proof of God's--the Designer--existence, it's his choice.

If I had decided to stay on in Facebook, I'd counter the atheistic spirit with more God-inspired posts, you know. My "friends" can choose to think about them or ignore them. Their choice so they live with the consequences.

Ok. I've digressed again big time.

To reiterate, I left Facebook because I just wanted to. There's no English equivalent for the Pilipino idiom "Wala lang." The English counterpart doesn't quite capture the essence. Anyways, who knows, after a few months I might decide to return under a different name and be more honest and straightforward in adding to my friends list. Then again, maybe not.

Those Eggcellent Eggs

2010-10-27T12:51:00.001+08:00

I like eggs. I like them a lot because they're not only nutritious, they're one of the most versatile foods I know. Imagine all that potential in an innocent-looking white oblongish sphere. And they're fast-cooking to boot! Quick lunch to prep for my kids when I'm pressed for time or immersed in online software testing.

As itself, you can just give it the old crack and drop on some oil or butter in the pan and you've got a sunny-side up or twirl it around with a fork, add a dash of salt and you've got simple scrambled egg. Serve it between slices of bread, on or between pancakes. You can have it with java rice or plain steamed rice.

If you want it fancy, all you have to do is whisk it, spread it out in a pan, put some leftover cooked veggies or meat from your last dinner or lunch on one side then fold over the other side and voila! you've got classic omelet. For a fluffier version, first separate the egg yolk from the white. Whisk up the white to a stiff froth, plop the yolk back and fold until well blended. Pour into greased, heated pan, gently put in pre-cooked veggies or leftover dinner, fold over and cooked till golden. This omelet melts in your mouth.

For even fancier stuff, sauté slices of sausage, veggies and herbs. Slowly pour beaten eggs in and around the sauté and slow-fry over low fire until the eggs set. Tadaah! Frittata!

Eggs are what I call "helping foods". They complement other dishes. I beat a couple of them and add to sautéed pork and snap beans then dash in some soy sauce or seasoning. Or wrap them around roasted or boiled eggplants that have been peeled--what we call Tortang Talong. The best "help" they do is converting that instant ramen into a nutritious instant egg-drop soup. Yup, just cook those noodles according to package instructions and drop in the egg when about done.

Like I said, the possibilities are endless. Yes sir, eggs are indeed one of God's wonder foods.

United Nations Program

2010-10-25T03:34:00.003+08:00

I went to my son's United Nations program just this last Saturday. I wasn't in the mood but my firstborn had a part in this interpretative handsong to the tune of Bette Midler's "From a Distance" so a necessary attendance on my part was in order.

Spoilers first.
Since the school was about a block from our house, I thought I'd drop off my son, rush back home for a quick shower and change then rush back to the school to witness his performance. Not! We arrived just as the program was about to start. Great! I didn't know when my son's number would be on so I decided to stay looking the way I did with my ultra-mega faded jeans, sports tee with matching home-styled ponytail and old flipflops. I told my husband later that I watched my son's number from the maid/nanny area. Joke! But I did keep to the sidelines. I didn't want to embarrass my son, of course.

A quick sweeping glance of the venue gave me the latest young momma fashion---spaghetti-strapped or tube blouse over short shorts with or without cardigan. Rebonded hair and mani-pedi. Matching digicam in right hand and cellphone in left. Ok. I definitely looked like "Inday" at the time. Bad momma didn't even bring the cam.

Little girl from nursery or kindergarten did a dance number that was supposed to be an Indian dance. Fail! Her music was definitely NOT Indian, not even close. Nor were her dance moves. They were more like Sexbomb/EB Babe dance steps. And though I haven't been to India, am pretty sure that shiny candy pink is not one of the colors in their traditional costume. Come to think of it, all the female students posed in their costumes as though they were part of some dance group from the noontime shows. Sad that parents allow their kids to watch TV's rubbish. Anyway...on with the spoilers...

The little boys always did the Mr. Pogi pose when doing costume presentation while boys from the upper levels looked from shy to slightly embarrassed or wore the "Can I get out of this outfit now?!" expression. *wince*

Another little girl was in a costume from which country I couldn't recognize but her headpiece was this scary thingy that had footlong string-thin wires sticking out. I thought she's poke the other students beside her when she turned her head. Didn't any of the teachers see this potential hazard?!

The group that did the hula had too much make-up on and wore plastic/silk flowers on their hair, around their neck and hips. The thingies looked like they were plucked from the flower vase of fake flowers in their living room. They didn't wear any real grass skirts and the music used was a disco mix of all the classic Hawaiian dance music (Pearly Shells, Tiny Bubbles, etc.) My hula teachers would have shuddered (or turned in their graves)!

I thought I'd scream if I heard "It's a Small World" one more time. Hey, I like that song but good heavens! They kept playing it every time a class would come up to the stage to present their UN costumes---from kindergarten to 10th grade. Ugh! Good thing I didn't catch LSS (last song syndrome) on that one. *shudder*

The worst part was the so called "inspirational" talk from a barangay chairman candidate! Horrors. The guy bored the parents with why he should be re-elected and made the kindergarten students fidget and fuss. No, the guy couldn't take a hint from the growing din his political speech had created among bored-to-tears students and parents.

Ok ok. I've repented about saying all those "mean" stuff.

Good Highlights.
The program started on time.
Teachers looked great in their UN costumes.
My firstborn's From a Distance handsong number was the finale and it was good. Proud he was part of the group that performed.
Caleb still loves me even if I attended his UN program looking like a rag. Proved this by calling out "Mama!" when he saw me standing by the school entrance. Matched it with a big smile and hug.

Stressed? Brush your teeth

2010-10-19T13:22:00.000+08:00

Have been so stressed out these past weeks that I find myself brushing my teeth more often than necessary. It's actually a stress reliever I discovered over 12 years ago courtesy of my then fiancé now hubby. No kidding, it works wonders. I was in a snit at that time and he suggested that I brush my teeth. And I go, "What?!" He assured me it works. I obeyed and came out of the bathroom all smiles.

I know. Strange how some peppermint-flavored toothpaste and circular strokes in and around your teeth and mouth can do wonders. Well, the toothpaste flavor actually doesn't matter but sure helps if it's your favorite one. It's the clean mouth afterwards that brings the relief.

I even suggested it to an officemate during my pre-homebased job days. Naturally, she gave me the are-you-pulling-my-leg look. But I suppose she was so stressed she actually tried it. Tadaah! Gave me the all smiles and a "Thanks, Boh." She was in awe how a little morning ritual done out of schedule can provide stress relief.

Try it. I still haven't figured out why it does but it always works for me.

Silence...Solitude...Serenity

2010-10-10T00:33:00.001+08:00

Have been yearning for them for so long. But more so these past weeks. But everyday, they just seem to be more elusive. It's driving me bonkers!

Sunrise on the boardwalk by arturodonate

The world seems to be so noisy. I only demand a little silence. So I can hear myself think. So I can hear God's still voice. Everyone seems to be in my face (perhaps not meaning to or because they're just used to). I just want to be alone for a while. To have some solitude so I can gather my scattered wits, find misplaced pieces of myself, repair shattered nerves. Serenity is about inner equilibrium but everything seems to be out of balance for me for ages now. I just want to recover some personal space and be at peace with myself again.

So I hold on desperately to HIS word and promise..."BE STILL and KNOW that I AM GOD.

Tea Time

2010-09-14T22:56:00.000+08:00

Having tea in my hot choco mug...teehee

I love tea. Especially the flavored ones. Sad though that I haven't had much of the brew in ages. I had turned traitor and gulped in more cups--or should I say mugs--of the ever popular coffee. I honestly don't remember how the switch happened.

All I know is that my husband and I used to swear off coffee. We drank Milo instead or hot cocoa. But people assuming that we were common coffee drinkers kept gifting us with this huge glass jars of coffee. It used to be that our church musicians were the ones who emptied our coffee cannisters. That when we used to live above the worship center. It was a short trek for them from the worship hall to our kitchen to get their caffeine fix.

That's why I gave a squeal of delight when my mother-in-law handed me several tea sachets of the London Fruit & Herb Company. The flavors were delicately named, matching their delicate aroma--Blueberry Bliss, Orange Spicer, Apple & Cinnamon Twist, and Lemon & Lime Zest.

The Blueberry Bliss was true to its name. Its flavor was so delicate I thought I could dab some on my wrist like perfume. The Orange Spicer was really perky and the Lemon and Lime Zest was a delicate version of the commercial instant iced tea. But my fave was the Apple & Cinammon thingy. It strangely brought back childhood memories and spooning imported oatmeal with somehow the same flavor.

Anyways, sipping those tea was so heavenly. I realized how much I missed tea. I hope my momma-in-law has more of them. Hmmm...maybe I'll ask her when we go visit.

Ok so maybe a strong cup of java gives the kick necessary to start one's day. But I will tell you, a warm cup of tea is a grand way to wind down a really stressful day.

*sigh* And the take away of this tea post is that people should respect tea as much as they respect a good cup o' coffee. Tea has cancer-fighting anti-oxidants, helps lower cholesterol levels, and helps stimulate the immune system. So there! Cheers to tea!

Keep moving forward, guys and gals!

Mom's 70th

2010-09-14T00:43:00.000+08:00

Mommy turned 70 last August 31.

My Mom and her birthday cake =)

70. Imagine that. We haven't been able to visit for a very long time. The last time I remember that she was over at our house was last Christmas when she agreed to look after my kids while my hubby and I jumped on our motorcycle and sped to Baguio for a Christmas roadtrip.

So when my sister texted me to say that she was throwing a party for Mom and that it would be great for us to be there, well, we had to go. My husband agreed that we all should make that long trip up north. Yup, my Mom and I live at opposite ends of the region. Haha!

The trip was kinda weird but fun. Well, for one thing, we really didn't know how to get there exactly. I had to ask my Mom to text directions to us while we were on the road. And we could start the trip only after 9pm that day. Schedules! But the kids were excited. My hubby and I were concerned but were excited too. So off we went.

We realized my Mom lived far far away. Really. We arrived at her house at about midnight. Uh huh. But were welcomed with open arms and smiles. My sister Neal and her hubby Albert stayed up until 3am just to mingle with us and do some catching up. They were already tired from the celebration after the Bible study earlier in the evening and they had to be at work at 8am the following day. I was really touched they put up with our ungodly hour visit. It was really great to see them again and their lovely daughter, Macie. So tall and only 10 years old!

Family Pic--with me and my crazy face

Food was great. The calderetang itik was a winner! Mom's cake was so nice. The family photo ops was noisy and crazy. Ok ok, I was the only one who looked crazy...haha! My kids "partied all night" so to speak, rummaging through their cousins' toys and playing. Playing! From the time they finished their late dinner till about 4am. And I think Ivin, my sister May's son had fun as well. He's an only child and it's the first time he's been around kids close to his age. He probably thought he dreamed up my kids once we left. It was such a short visit.

We finally had to leave at 5am. Everyone at Mom's place needed to sleep. And though I didn't have to travel to work, I still had to get to my PC at home and log in at 8am. I know, I know, a laptop would have solved the "problem."

*sigh* I hope we could visit them more often. Medyo bitin. And I love roadtrips anyway. Neal texted when we got home at around 8:30am. She said something like, "Next time ulit...Christmas." Now that's something to plan for as early as now. =)

The Sicky Weeks

2010-08-20T02:21:00.000+08:00

Totally unbelievable. Well, at least for me. But it really happened. Glad it's almost over.

Two weeks ago, I got a bad case of Return of the Bronchial Asthma. Yep, after almost 5 years of having zero, as in 0, zilch, nada, nothing whatsoever attacks, it came back with a vengeance. I was a teenage asthmatic. The doctors said if a kid got it after the age of 5 or in the teen years, it's likely gonna stay for life. Well, I do believe I got healed from it over five years ago. I asked to be healed and I got healed. But I wasn't a good steward of the good health. No. God didn't take back the healing. He's not like that. I abused my health. Exposed myself to all the conditions that would trigger an attack. Bluntly, I was unknowingly asking for it to come back. But God is good. Am good as new.

But that's not the end of this post. While I was down, my eldest son, Caleb was recovering from his bout with a nasty virus. When we both got well, it was my hubby who went down followed by the rest of my kids--almost simultaneously. It was a horrible viral bug. We literally had a sick household! Our house was a sick house. Even the budget got sick. So did our PC's keyboard. Now that one finally conked out on us after two years of good service. So there we were, everyone and everything sick. Aren't I glad we don't have pets?

And so we're on the road to recovery. Thanks to everyone who prayed for us. We really truly sincerely appreciate it. There were a lot of lessons learned those last two weeks. Everyone of us had at least one lesson learned. I probably learned half a dozen. God doesn't allow this kind of horridness on a whim. He has a purpose and He wants us to learn good lessons that will make us stronger people.

And so the moral of this post is never take your health or healing for granted. Be good stewards. We don't own our life. It is God's. And He's watching how well we take care of what He has loaned us.

Keep moving forward people! =)

The Wall

2010-07-26T04:31:00.001+08:00

At my age, I should have thought this out before giving in to all that teasing to put on a harness. But hey, I always liked adventure and Cheche Lazaro has always been one of the few people who inspire me. So I did this even if I was not really in the mood at that time--emotionally out of sorts then (long story; this is so not the post to discuss it.)

I'm the one in the pink and white shirt. I didn't bring a cam because I had planned to sit and sulk during this activity (one of those "much touted" company "get-togethers"). Not really a great shot if you ask me. I would have faced the cam with a really crazy expression but doing so at that angle was kinda difficult if not a threat to life and limb. I did get to climb a little over 15 feet (see that yellow line above me? I got past that a wee bit). I decided to go down because my climbing partner (slim girl beside me) was about to scream.

I just wished my hubby was there with me. He would have cheered me on to the top. He's done this wall climbing thing before. And he would have encouraged me to climb all three walls. Diff difficulty levels. On the second wall, I just made it halfway. The slight horizontal jut made me dizzy (and then I remembered I hadn't had breakfast or lunch at that time). I took a rain check on the third wall.

Wanted to post more pics but what's the point when they're all back shots, right? Right. I should have risked the crazy shot with my face to the cam. And before I forget my manners, thank you to Ms Lala Ballatan for allowing me to grab her pics of me at the wall.

Oh and if anyone's interested in climbing this monstrosity, it's at Camp Sandugo, Level 5 of Market Market at the Fort Global City.

Tears of a Woman

2010-07-12T00:33:00.001+08:00

I only hate crying because it really leaves my face all blotchy and a mess. And also because on a personal level, a good bawling leaves me with my own version of a hangover headache in the morning. I don't know anyone, anyway, who still looks like a model in a photo shoot after a substantial lacrimal leak.

I also hate crying when people give in to their impression that I am weak because I cried. But no, I do not believe that tears are a sign of weakness. Most people are just so judgmental. Sheesh! Tears/crying = weak/brainless. NOT!

But here's my case: I embrace the times I cry. NO, I definitely do not use tears for manipulation. I so disdain humans, particularly guys who stereotype women's tears into a tool that women use to get their way. While it is true, I must admit, there are members of my species who manipulate with their tears, I do not belong to that class. My tears are too precious to be used to manipulate others.

I believe my tears are a gift from my Creator. They are my expression for pain, physical and otherwise. Crying is my safety valve. I cry when I am frustrated or angry. Although I find it strange that tears rarely roll down my cheeks when watching a sad movie or hearing a sad song or melody. And to think I have a low threshold for tears. I may be just relating a story or explaining something close to my heart and more often than not, my voice breaks up a bit and there'll be a sheen of unshed tears filming over my eyes.

So to all ladies who cry in whatever way or whatever situation (unless it's to manipulate--which is really horrid of you to do so. Bad bad bad!), do not be ashamed of your tears. It is God's gift to you in order to cope with life's challenges, hurts, as well as happiness. Besides, the Good Book says:

"You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book." (Psalm 56:8 New Living Translation)

Our tears are precious to God. He knows what each single teardrop stands for. And for all those tears that represent sadness or pain, He replaces with joy, healing, and relief.

Above the legs doesn't mean your thighs, dummie...

2010-06-30T00:12:00.000+08:00

Eons ago when I was still in my junior year in college I innocently asked a classmate, "Do you shave above your legs?" We were jogging down the steps of our college building to hurry on to our next class. At first she tried to ignore me. I thought she didn't hear so I caught up with her and repeated my question. She kinda had an irritated look on her face and reluctantly whispered "Yeah sometimes." Then she just sped off. I wondered at the time why she seemed pissed.

Well I got my answer after approximately more than 10 or 12 years. No, I am not exaggerating. I did learn the real meaning of "above your legs" after over a decade. How? I think it was while reading about it in a blog or website or something. But I'm sure I actually read about it "by accident" no less. I was shocked to discover "above the legs" in that context meant the ultimate girly girl part of my anatomy! And I had asked a totally personal question back in college. My classmate (I forgot her name now) probably thought I was some kind of perv. Sheesh! Since learning that, I've been mentally kicking myself. And the memory and my utter dumminess always pops in my mind whenever I'm in the bath and shaving my legs.

Aaargh! How I hate the sheltered life my parents raised me in! It wasn't me being naive or my naivete; it was sheer dumminess! Now I just hope that poor girl's remembrance of me isn't my totally embarrassing question.

Sudden Surge

2010-06-12T18:03:00.000+08:00

Ok. Ok. So three new blog posts may not exactly qualify as a "surge" but to me they do. I'm such an irregular blogger so this is definitely a surge for me.

The truth is that the latest posts are "transferees" from my first blog--which I have terribly neglected. Probably because I couldn't decide what my focus there would be. I was so vague. They were random thoughts. Ok fine. This blog is pretty much random thoughts of a SAHM so what's the big deal. For one thing, I wasn't blogging as a stay-at-home-mom there. Rambling again....

To get straight to the point, I transferred some posts from there to here because I finally decided what to do with that first blog, Yes, I am sure about it now. My only hope is that I can sustain it. I believe I can.

As for this blog, it is what it is at the moment. My random thoughts. =)

Job Stress

2010-06-12T17:41:00.001+08:00

Those first couple of weeks back in October last year was like hell.

I was offered a project I thought I could handle until I got all the details and the client made a paradigm shift midway through. Then I figured that this wasn’t for me. I didn’t want it. Not that the project was a bad idea. In fact, it was a very good project. I just doubt the client’s true objectives.

But of course it is business. So the bottomline really is to rake in earnings. But that’s beside the point where I am concerned. Although I think the project is worthwhile, it just isn’t my personal priority. Sure I love animals. Like I told my soul sister, we had nine dogs at some point in time. But that doesn’t make me an animal protection and habitat conservation activist.

To cut the story short I had some fall out with the company’s client. The project had left me cold so I really couldn’t care less if I understood the emails I was being sent regarding it. I didn’t do a good job to put it bluntly. And when the client expressed dissatisfaction, I hoped it would turn into an escape route for me out of the project.

But my boss called me after hours and tried to talk sense into me. Of course I couldn’t tell him straight to his face that I didn’t want the project. Nevermind if it meant a "step up the corporate ladder" or a raise of some sort. I just wasn’t into it anymore. And God knows how I prayed to Him to be let off the hook.

It got to be so stressful I actually broke down in tears and told my husband, “Ayoko na yung trabaho ko. Di ba pwede tayong suportahan ng Lord ng di na ako nagtratrabaho?”

My hubby gave me a hug and told me something that sort of brought things into perspective. Although I have to say it did not completely convince me to embrace the project again. I just let it go and took it one thing at a time.

I ended up apologizing to the client without totally losing my dignity. Apology was accepted and instructions were given again to draft something for marketing. Inwardly I’m groaning. I wish this would not be on me. I wish I were doing something else.

Lately, I've been receiving emails from the same client regarding the same project. Call me paranoid but the way the emails are worded, I seem to be a moron. I could actually hear the client in my mind, speaking ever so slowly then ending the instructions with "You did understand, right?"

Remembering Daddy

2010-06-12T17:31:00.000+08:00

Daddy passed away about four years ago. i don't exactly remember. I was pregnant with my third child (then unborn Dianelle) and my two boys and I were about to go to my parents’ house for a reunion of some sorts. The reunion never happened. Daddy died a week after we got to their place.

My relationship with Daddy wasn’t that great. It wasn’t that bad either. I just have an overall feeling that he was kinda disappointed with how things turned out with me. I guess I never met his expectations–whatever they were. I really never knew what they were exactly anyway.

But I did have memorable moments with Daddy.

One that will probably be with me for a very long time was when he agreed to shop for a blouse with me. We were already living in Angono at that time. And the most accessible shopping place then was Cubao. It was a commercial complex.

He tirelessly accompanied me from store to store as I checked out rack upon rack of blouses. I needed one for a piano recital. Imagine, me in a piano recital. Funny, after doing the rounds of all the possible shops that sold blouses and girly girl dresses, I ended up buying the first blouse I seemed to like at the first store we had stepped into.

If memory serves me right, I was kinda apologetic towards my dad. But he just smiled at me and said it was okay. He commented that I was like him–quite picky with clothes and unmindful of the effort it takes to look through every store until I finally found what I really wanted. Mildly OC I should say.

I also remember his back rubs. He had good steady warm hands, my dad. I had asthma as a teenager. Whenever I had an asthma attack, I couldn’t sleep. He would rub my back as I drooped over the backrest of a chair. He’d rub in circular motions that freed up the mucous in my lungs. My chest would somehow clear and I would be able to breath and finally get some restful sleep.

There is one painful memory though. And I suppose it has influenced the way I look at myself physically. It was way back in high school, probably my senior year in high school or my freshman year in college. Whichever, I was standing in front of our bedroom mirror checking out a zit. I wasn’t a zitty teen. I was blessed with fairly clear skin. But that night I noticed a pimple and I sort of lingered on the sight of it on my face.

My Dad chanced upon me as he passed by our room and heard me mumbling something about the lone pimple and my face. To which he responded, “There’s nothing that can be done about your face.”
Honestly, although the statement’s meaning registered vaguely, I felt hurt. I guess, deep inside me, my dad’s statement translated into, “You’ll never be pretty.”

I suppose that has affected the way I respond to my husband whenever he’d comment on how I should comb my hair or wear my make-up or what dress I should wear. Any statement that even slightly refers to the way I look I deflect with “Pacencya na. Hindi maganda yung asawa mo eh.” (My apologies. Your wife isn’t pretty.)

Do I miss Daddy? I sort of missed him several months after we buried him. Now, I don’t really know. I haven’t deleted his email address from my list of contacts. And I’m pretty sure I have not deleted his cellphone number from my cell’s phonebook either.

I do regret not texting him or calling him. Maybe that would have improved our relationship. Maybe he would have warmed up to me again. We got pretty cold when I got married. Although he was cordial when he and mom visited me, still…

I guess I took him for granted. Or simply thought that I would see him again on their next visit.

used, reused, overused...

2010-06-12T17:17:00.000+08:00

I am upset. I am angry. I am sad. I want to cry.

Am dying to scream my head off and at the same time smash something.

I’m way over burnout. I’m not even smoldering coal. Just cold ashes.

And still people around me won’t stop using me.

Oh This Frigging Heat!

2010-05-12T14:32:00.000+08:00

What the hell is wrong with our weather?!! It’s so freaking hot! This summer heat is crazy! I used to love summer, the heat included. But, man, this kind of temperature makes me want to do all kinds of crazy stuff like…

…buy a waterproof laptop so I can work under the shower until the heat goes away. Yes, even if it will mean my skin getting all wrinkled like an old sea hag's.

…use my birthday suit 24/7 because it’s still really oven hot inside the house at night even when the temperatures outside have gone cooler. I dare not walk around the house in the buff, though, for fear of traumatizing my kids for life. I mean I have three boys not counting my husband. I don’t want scarring my sons’ view of a woman’s anatomy, yah know. As it is they’ve tolerated me cooking their meals using only my shorts and bra.

To add to the bonkeriness, it really pisses me that I’m easily out of fresh panties because I have to change every time I hit the shower—which is more than a couple of times a day. The oppressive humidity just adds to the stickiness in that delicate part already!

Also, I’m thinking if ice cream, halo-halo and slurpees will qualify for three square meals. It’s so weird that even my 12-month old son’s milk bottles are in the fridge. It used to be that I had to warm the baby’s milk. Nah ah! Not anymore. It's so hot, the water in our drinking water dispenser turns lukewarm—no joke. So my youngest spawn wants his milk in a refreshingly cool temperature before giving it to him.

Obviously the answer would be to get ourselves a couple of air conditioners. The catch is that the only thing crazier than this infernal heat is the friggingly sky-high Meralco rates! Our monthly bill might end up the same as that of the nearest mall.

But hey, here’s a comforting thought in all this blistering temperature—BE THANKFUL YOU’RE NOT IN HELL.

Oh Rain! Oh Joy!

2010-04-29T16:00:00.002+08:00

After sooooo many infernally hot days and a couple of teasingly brief rainshowers yesterday, my request for a totally refreshing downpour was granted. Oh joy!

Three of my kids rushed out to play in the rain the moment permission was granted (Israel being too small yet to join in the fun)--complete with accompanying whoops and squeals.

My daughter, Dianelle, only lasted a few minutes before running back into our garage, shivering. John draped a towel over her and told her to just get back inside and take a bath--under the shower, which is more manageable..haha!

I'm glad the boys had a really fun time in the rain. I didn't get to do that when I was a kid (which was eons ago). I know I know it's pathetic. Blame it on my overly unreasonable parents at that time. I probably missed a quarter of my life by not doing that...lol!

Yeah, maybe I should do it one of these days when there's a really huge downpour--and dance like there's no one looking. =)

Snatches of More Serious Thoughts

2010-03-15T00:39:00.001+08:00

First quarter of 2010 is moving towards a close. I still seem to be perennially engulfed by things around me--online work, routine household chores, ministry stuff, Facebook, Twitter, people, my kids...I had really really hoped for CHANGE.

I regret not starting my long planned attempt at getting into shape--brisk walking (from our house to the highway; it's really not that far), or sticking to the discipline of drinking at least 8 glasses of water a day, or blogging on a daily basis even if only to keep my writing chops sharp.

I wonder if I'm truly making an impact with my life or if I'm just bumming my life away with the routines I've gotten myself into.

Then I get to asking myself: What is it that you are most passionate about? Teaching kids.
But then I seemed to have "lost" that passion since last year...since I began feeling fatigued and burned out...and finally admitting these to myself.

But I still want to teach kids. Teach them about God. Teach them about HIS incredible love. Kids are just so open and trusting even when surprisingly, they ask tougher and more sensible questions than most adults. I really feel guilty about putting the Children's ministry on hold--again. I am honestly torn between wanting to teach them and feeling so tired. At the same time so frustrated with budget constraints that seem to prevent us from procuring much needed equipment, furniture, and materials to continue such a precious ministry.

I wonder if I'm still qualified to do my job. My online work. Again, I feel guilty when I groan inwardly about the tasks and the nature of these tasks assigned to us. Lately, I hear myself telling myself: "For goodness sakes I'm a WRITER. I write. I don't totally comprehend technical stuff. What am I doing here?" And guilt follows after that because I am only too aware that this online job was literally a God-given gift about three years ago. It's homebased. The company pays for internet connection. I can log in for work while still in my PJs and even when I haven't brushed my teeth yet. So, the nerve of me to complain. I've met people who learn about my job and I see them longing for such a job. So now I hate myself for being a totally ungrateful whiner.

I wonder if I truly love my husband. There are days when I just want to strangle him or kick him hard on the shins for not being more understanding or for being so focused on the ministry that I feel neglected and yet it's crazy that on the same day I have these feelings, I desire him so much...yes I get horny over him. It's maddening! Then I get to the place where I wonder if he was ever in love with me. I know, I sound like a crazy woman.

And then it's ironic for me to have this homebased job so I can be with the kids but I still don't get enough quality time with each of them on an individual basis or even together--doing stuff together. I'm either glued to the computer or to the stove or to the sink or to the washing machine. And then I go back to thinking if I should just quit my job so I can concentrate on the kids.

And now I feel like a basket case.

The weirdest thing of it all is that I know that all these musings, rantings and ravings, vague feelings, and inner unrest boils down to my relationship with Christ. Where am I in this divine relationship? I am not sure really. Some days so in love with HIM. Some days I take HIM for granted. And just now I just so desperately want to reach out and have HIM hold my hand...and feel it FOR REAL--not just in my soul or spirit but feel HIS hand holding my hand. I don't know, I just think that it might finally make things on my patch of planet OK.

God, I really need that real break from everything and everybody so I can just be with me and rethink my life so I don't waste any more of Your precious time.

Sweet Noah

2010-02-06T11:20:00.001+08:00

A couple of days ago in our bedroom...

Noah: Mama, look. Ask me who’s mas maganda. This one or this one…(slightly slamming his little boy hands on the pages of a magazine on my lap. Each page had a photo of two different Hollywood actresses in full glam)
Me: They’re both pretty.
Noah: No, no. Ask me who’s more ganda. This one or this one. (repeating his request and actions)
Me: Okay. Noah, who’s mas maganda? This one or this one? (mimicking his previous actions.)
Noah: This one. (as he looks straight at me and ruffles my hair with his hand while giving me a broad smile)

Me: (Genuinely surprised and flattered!) Haha! Ikaw talaga. That’s so sweet of you. (I ruffle his hair in return)
To myself: Aaawww that’s so sweet. (double take) On second thought, (eyes roll) bata pa bolero na! aamph!

Most Plagiarized Book

2010-02-06T01:57:00.002+08:00

The Bible is said to be the world’s bestseller for all time. But has anyone also noticed that it is the most shamelessly pirated and plagiarized book the world over—especially where religion is concerned.
I mean just look at all those religions claiming stuff like zen (simplicity), minimalism, yin and yang (balance) to name a popular few. Whoever their founders/philosophers/gurus, whatchamacalits were, those people actually took a Bible principle, called it by a different name and passed it on as their truth, their personal revelation. Worse, others have adulterated Bible truths with their perverted concepts of spirituality.

Could Jehovah charge these copycats with religious piracy? Or spiritual plagiarism? If there ever were such concepts. Still, when I think about this, it just amazes me how the Author of the Good Book hasn’t zapped them all into nothingness—which He could simply do with a snap of the all-powerful fingers. He has chosen not to. It’s not His nature to be vindictive. Just goes to show that God Almighty is mercy to the very core of His awesome being. And royally confident that in reality ALL things are HIS.

As for us humans, we are terribly territorial and sadly unforgiving when it comes to things we think we’ve originally created. Even a slight copy-paste of a written work would generate the crisp sound of lawsuit slaps.

The Author of the universe must be laughing Himself in amusement at the audacity of mere mortals who claim HIS precepts as their own religious truth.

Extravagant Love

2010-02-03T00:57:00.000+08:00

01 February 2010
6:56pm

Extravagant love. Just crossed my mind. Just a few moments ago—after musing on my relationship with my husband, after desiring him all day even if only yesterday I wanted to kick him in the shins because of something he said; after watching a really really nice wedding video; after reading 1 Corinthians 13 again…

Extravagant love—God did it first. No one for all eternity can ever ever trump HIM on what HE has done for the love of mankind.

No I didn’t think about this because it’s the first day of the month of hearts. In fact, I have come to deem the day of hearts as corny and really cheesy. Am sure whoever started the now globally celebrated day had romantic notions at heart. But people tend to abuse even the most pristine of concepts and feelings.

Perhaps God, Who is the very essence of love just wanted me to meditate on it at the closing of this day. Extravagant love. HIS extravagant love. Something I don’t deserve. Yet everyday HE surrounds me with it. I am not sure if I can afford to give it to another human being. Extravagant love--I can only hope to offer it to the ONE who endured the most horrifying experience and went through the most excruciating pain to ensure my soul’s safety for all eternity.

I am not worthy of His extravagant love.

My Typical Day

2010-01-30T02:58:00.003+08:00

10:05 am
I don’t think I’m a “driven” person. I believe I actually have a high threshold for tolerance of the status quo. I don’t make a move until something is really driving me bonkers. And when that happens, I kinda make close to drastic maneuvers.
Anyway, like I said I don’t think I’m driven. Driven people drive other people crazy. That’s why they’re driven. Hahaha…

11:05
Okay okay. So I said I’ve sworn off violent movies. Well…war movies to be really specific. My hubby woke up this morning telling me how he couldn’t forget what Vin Diesel said in his movie Triple X. I figured my husband was able to squeeze in viewing that movie last night after finishing his lesson while I was already in the sack.
Anyways, I figured I’d watch that movie. I kinda like Vin Diesel and Triple X isn’t a war movie…hehehe.

6:07pm
Sometimes, men can be completely insensitive bastards.

7:24
I’m already offline at work but am still stuck doing work because I don’t want to be doing this same task by Monday. I plan to submit it today or by the wee hours of Saturday morning even if it means having to stay up that long.

As it is, the kids are still hyper—noisy and moving about. Battery levels at 10! The house floor is littered with toys, and I’ve just washed my youngest kid’s butt after his poo leaked out of his nappy and messed his crib spread. Eeeww! I figured, I still have 6 or 7 years of having to wash someone else’s butts. (sigh) The only consolation is that it won’t be an adult’s butt. EEEEEWWWW!

And I still have to cook dinner. Husband is out. Speaker at an EGR in Imus. Ok, so it’s not comparing like with like when I think about his job and I think about mine. But when you look closely, I am literally holding two jobs—my online work and housework, not to mention supervising the children. I wish he’d do more housework.

I’d gladly do it all myself if I had the humanly possible stamina and unlimited resources. But I just don’t have them. There’s only 1 me with only 2 hands and 2 feet and 24 hours in a day. And I cringe at that thought of having more than a pair for each set of limbs regardless if having more will seem to accomplish more. I simply refuse to look like an arachnid or any of those multi-legged creatures. Ugh!

My throat seems sore again. My voice seems hoarse no matter how hard I try to clear my throat. This already happened to me last year. No voice for about two weeks. I didn’t have a cold or cough then. Just lost my voice. It seems to be happening again. A dear friend of mine mentioned last time that a case like this meant fatigue. (sigh). Perhaps I am fatigued…again. I really wonder when or if ever I’m gonna get that kind of vacation I dream about and have blogged about and post stuff about.

7:58
Trying desperately to finish at list three quarters of my task before cooking dinner. I know it’s already late. Dinner should be served by now. But what can I do? Crap! Lately, the kids seem to easily drive me crazy. I wince at each scream and squabble and fit of tantrum. It takes all my self control not to hang the little turnips by their ankles!

9:09 pm
That’s it. Monster Mama has struck again! Sheesh. I hate myself.

Holiday Hangover

2010-01-12T03:19:00.006+08:00

I haven't been on a road trip (a real one) for a very long time. The last road trip I vaguely remember was some medical mission trip ages ago.

I love road trips. So what better way to spend Christmas than on a road trip to Baguio, specifically hurtling down the highways at 100-120 km/h on a motorbike...with your husband. And that was exactly how I spent Christmas eve and Christmas day. Incredible! It's been a little over three weeks since the trip and I am still amazed when I think about it.

The trip was my husband's idea of how we should celebrate our 12th anniversary--which actually wasn't until the 5th of January--but Christmas was our only so-called window of free time. We had to grab the opportunity for some sort of break from our busy schedules. So I'd like to think of it as a wedding anniversary and Christmas present rolled in one.

To be honest though, it wasn't all that perfect because it didn't turn out exactly the way we sort of planned it. But that's life...haha. We weren't able to leave at 12am early morning of the 24th because my Mom who agreed to watch the kids for us arrived at around 1:30 in the afternoon of that day. So we were set back much in terms of time. We wanted to be on the road by the "ungodly" hour of 12am so we would be arriving in Benguet Province by the time the sun was just peeking over those glorious mountain ranges.

Well, we ended up leaving at around 3pm which meant head-on encounter with Metro Manila traffic and other "mini" traffic jams as we tried to speed through five provinces (Bulacan, Pampanga, Tarlac, Pangasinan, La Union). We arrived at the foot of the mountain province about an hour to midnight. We were in Baguio City proper by 12 midnight--half frozen because it was sooooo cold. We already had jackets on but decided to put on extra ones plus bonnets, and I wished to God then I had brought gloves or mittens. And because it was a holiday and considering our time of arrival, the place where we had planned to stay had no personnel present to check us in. Why didn't we place reservations? Because Baguio has so much places where one can hit the sack at any given time. We just didn't filter in the holiday season when we were talking about the trip because we were kinda excited about the whole thing.

Well we did get to stay in a really lovely place which we found after three hours...after a very late dinner at Andok's...after driving around the town proper in search for an alternative place...after sitting in a Burnham Park kiosk while a nice young girl called her "contacts" to see if any rooms were still open...after driving around again...after sitting in a Dunkin Donut shop trying to steal warmth from a styrocup of hot choco, half laughing but at the edge of tears because we really wanted to sleep already...after driving around some more and checking with other transients places that either could not accommodate us or were charging us too much for just several hours of using one of their rooms for the night.

We had the budget but we weren't willing to pay a thousand pesos for just around 4 hours of sleep. Really! So that was the major hitch. But once we checked into the lovely house for transients that had a really charming lady owner, we were all smiles again.

We unpacked and cleaned ourselves and...well, incredible how much heat the human body can generate especially when you're uhm...making love. LOL!

Great breakfast in the morning, quick tour of the city tourist spots, snap-snap of photos to ensure the trip for posterity...and well, proof to show that we actually did it, lunch at Andok's (again), and we were on the road again speeding towards Dasmariñas, Cavite. From south to way way up north and back.

It wasn't the destination that was the major highlight. It was the whole road trip itself that was the incredible highlight! The stopovers in between speeding down the highway, the sights. In Bulacan there were rows of stores that at first I thought were selling sweets but when my husband told me to look closer, I began to see they were actually firecracker stores! And I did not realize that Pampanga seemed to have as many catholic churches as it had gambling establishments! Tarlac was sooooo long. I know, I already said that.

Ok. This post has gotten to be a novelette in length. So I will end by saying that we're tentatively planning our next road trip--to Vigan! Woohoo!

DEAD Deadlines

2009-11-10T14:25:00.006+08:00

Task: Standardize Service Types and their descriptions (across all VCD initiatives )

Deadline: November 6

Status: 50% complete

Task: Bible lessons (series) for church Bible study leaders

Deadline: October 2009

Status: Still on lesson 1

Task:

Email EGR Kids pastor and coordinate summer camp 2010

Deadline: September 2009

Status: have not emailed him yet

Task: Sunday school curriculum

Deadline: August 2009

Status: Sunday school is still on hold

Task: Resume homeschooling my 2 preschoolers

Deadline: August 2009

Status: still on hold

Task: Revive blog

Deadline: 2008

Status: trying hard to get up

Overall status of deadlines: MAJOR FAIL!!

Something's got to give here so balance can be restored. (sigh)

Plastic Frogs

2009-10-14T02:02:00.004+08:00

"Noah, Nanee! I have something for you." my eldest son Caleb cheerily greeted one afternoon as he entered the front door whilst getting rid of his school shoes and socks.

I wondered what he had for his younger siblings and smiled at the thought that he was really a sweet kid. I soon discovered that it was a couple of plastic frogs that could be made to jump by pressing on its backside. Another ingenious Pinoy toy.

Well, my kids had fun. We laughed together as I got on all fours on the living room floor to try out the plastic frogs. We found out that there was a technique to pressing their backs so that they jumped forward and did not belly up. Kinda tricky. But we finally managed. I challenged them to a race. I think my frog bellied up lots of times instead of jumping. But it was fun and with had great laughs.

Learning from My Kids

2008-07-31T00:10:00.008+08:00

Lately, God has been teaching me some lessons through my children. Lessons about myself, my parenting and most especially my relationship with Him.

Lesson 1: Unconditional Love
No matter how many times I reprimand them or nag or scold, or discipline them or turn them away when I'm in a really crabby mood, all my three kids still manage to come up to me just to give me a hug with a heart-melting "Love you, Ma" to match.

And I hear God saying, "I love you just like that. Nevermind that you're upset with Me at times or don't want to talk to Me or that you just plain ignore Me. I love you just the same and I will never ever turn you away."

Then I also realize that I really should be careful with my kids' fragile emotions. The thought that if Christ doesn't come back just yet and they get to grow up into adults, makes me promise myself to be a better parent--a more loving mom--so as not to leave emotional scars on their tender hearts.

Lesson 2: Faith
My children always believe what I tell them. Period. And they think I could do just about anything. The idea that I sometimes can't draw them a Parasaurolophus (one of their dinosaurs) is simply unthinkable. I'm supposed to know how to draw that or to make a paper cutout of it. They have a fit if I seriously tell them that I really really don't know how to make it.

I can hear God telling me, "You know I can do absolutely anything. Nothing, absolutely nothing is impossible or too hard for Me. So why don't you just hand over that ministry situation or co-worker relationship that you think is impossible to fix. I can make it much better if You just believe and let Me work on it."

I also realize that I have to live my faith in the God of the impossible in front of my children if I want them to learn how to trust God absolutely. I must first set the example.

Lesson 3: Pay Attention
Just these past couple of weeks I keep hearing myself tell my eldest son, "Caleb! Pay attention! Listen well to instructions. Pay attention to them. Instructions are very important. You won't know what to do without them...are you listening?"

I feel like I have to repeat those same sentences to him every so often these days. But just last week while I was running my usual tirade about paying attention, I suddenly stopped. It was like God was telling me in a loud voice, "You should practice that yourself...paying attention." I also heard Him say almost audibly, "Have you been paying attention to what I've been trying to tell you? Are you listening my child?"

Too often, I now realized how I always seemed to be in a hurry during my time with God. I need to pay attention more to Him if I ever want to fulfill my life's purpose. I also need to pay attention to my husband and children before I expect them to pay attention to me as well. Reciprocity. Mutuality.

Three major life lessons, I must say. I may not have mastered them, I admit. But I'm getting there--learning to apply them everyday, a step at a time. Easier said than done. But still I'm getting there. And getting better.

Too Thin

2008-07-05T23:36:00.002+08:00

I have not posted anything for almost three months. The reason is in my post below. It's actually a repost from my private online journal. I just hope I recover soon...

=====================================================

I'm afraid I have spread myself too thin.

It used to be that teaching kids got me all excited. NOW I feel tired and a tad irritated at just the thought of having to deal with the mixed-age group of youngsters in our church. It used to be that I loved working at the computer. NOW I'm only in front of it because I have an online job and I need to write stuff but I feel relieved when I don't need to turn it on. It used to be that I got all fired up just thinking about and planning what we would do at the next ladies' fellowship. NOW I get anxious contemplating what we're supposed to do on the next meeting. It used to be that I would look up resources for the youth ministry, the music team, or prayer group. NOW, I just feel so very tired when I think that I still have to do all that.

It used to be that I would rush the Sunday newsletter even to the wee hours of the morning and have it printed in time for 9:00 am Sunday worship. NOW, the Sunday Word has been put on hold. I have not thought about it or really planned when to resume preparing it.

It used to be that I would diligently look for what else to work on when my online tasks are done. NOW, I just sleep while waiting for them to give me another task to work on. It used to be that I would say "Hi" to people on my YM list when work was on a lull. NOW, I think twice then back off because I feel tired at the thought of carrying on an online conversation.

It used to be that I looked forward to thinking up new preparations for our daily family meals. NOW, I prepare what cooks in no time. It used to be that I was a really sunny and nice-to-be-with Mom. NOW, I'm simply monster-mama because I get so crabby and grumpy at the slightest provocation.

The list of "It used to be's" and "Now's" could go on and on. I want the world to stop for a while or may be I can go take a vacation for a week doing nothing but sleeping and eating and reflecting on how I am to go on with my life. I have been wanting, longing, desiring, praying to be able to take a much needed break.

I got back from kids camp just before summer officially ended. During that time, one of the staff suggested I do something...I forget now what it was but it sure was ministry-related (or was it work-related?). Anyway, I told the dear sister that if I did that I would have to be scraped off the wall. I am just so tired to do anything. It's like what my husband calls being on "auto-pilot."

Yes, I am probably on auto-pilot because there doesn't seem to be time to take a break yet...however, badly needed it may be.

40...

2008-04-16T01:49:00.011+08:00

I turned 40 last April 12. The big 4-0 when life "they" say begins. But not for me. My life began when I started standing up for my convictions and bravely facing the consequences of the decisions I made. So I would have to say that my life began when I was in my mid-20's.

So how do I feel now that I am actually 40 years old? I dunno. It's been almost a week since the 12th and I still feel strange about it. I can't quite put my finger on that odd feeling. Well, I have to admit though that I occasionally shrieked "Yipes! I can't believe I'm turning 40 this year!" especially when 2008 made its entrance. Well I shrieked because I didn't feel 40. I still don't--more like stuck at 30-something. Like I said, a bit strange.

It was a pensive day for me amidst the usual greetings from family and a whole fresh bunch of pleasant greetings coming from a new set of acquaintances and workmates. I was brooding over something I didn't exactly know what. You think I was going through some sort of delayed mid-life crisis? I dunno. Perhaps I just didn't have time to contemplate on my life that day.

Yup, that week and the week following that (and even up to this moment's writing) I have been and still am swamped with work. The ministry is on a momentum, the Kids' Camp where I am program coordinator opens in about a couple of weeks and I still have yet to meet the counselors for orientation, there's online work and so on and so forth.

So I guess that's it---I need more time for and to myself. I have this notion that by the time a woman is 40, she has got to have something to show for it. And I'd really love to take stock of my life and see if I have indeed got something to show, something that makes God proud of me and happy for me; as well as something I can be proud of myself.

In any case, Cheers! To another birthday! Hooray for 40!

Quickie

2008-02-21T04:25:00.019+08:00

It was one of those on-the-spur-of-the-moment thingies. Precious moments we decide to quickly grab from the daily grind.

My husband and I agreed to take a quickie detour up Tagaytay City (considered the second summer capital of the country). I had just taken a break from my online work to finish some transaction at my eldest son's school and he was due for a Bible study later in the day so there was a brief moment of "to trip or not to trip."

"To trip" won. We put our motorbike helmets back on and we were off, stopping only a while at the highway just to slip into our jackets. I was hesitant at first because even if I was aware it might be chilly up there, I thought I'd savor the cool air when I got there so I avoided the jacket. But my husband insisted I put it on. He was right. We were just in Silang, the municipality before Tagaytay City and the air already had a touch of chill.

The sky was a nostalgic overcast. Oh what delight feeling the cool wind rush even with my helmet visor down my face. There was a hint of rain but only ultra light drizzles from fast paced clouds constantly blown by the wind. The green scenery was oh so soothing for eyes that constantly look at the flickering of a computer screen.

We finally arrived at the rotunda where the roads spread out and you decide which of them to take to begin your Tagaytay adventure. We got off our motorcycle at the once popular view deck which, sadly, has been dilapidated for quite some time. I wondered when the city government would get around to sprucing it up again. Still the view from there was breathtaking. And the air was oh so colder than I expected.

This was a quickie so just after a few minutes of taking in the sights and savoring the natural airconditioning, we went for a quick bite at the local 7-Eleven right across the street. Okay, okay...this part isn't that "romantic". We should have probably eaten at some place nice. Well, we wanted to but this was a quickie so even there were hundreds of nice, quaint, romantic spots on the mountaintop where we could grab a bite, time was of the essence so to speak.

We finally settled for a sandwich, a chocolate Mister Donut and two cups of coffee. I had the chicken vienna sausage sandwich (well, half of it) and my hubby chomped down on the choco donut (well, half of it too) then we traded. Washed all of it down with our "starting-to-become" lukewarm coffee. It was super chilly even inside the store which had it's doors open (and saving on electricity with the aircondition turned off).

We were enjoying every precious minute from the time we entered the city, laughing at the chills we were having at the view deck and carrying the laughter into 7-Eleven as we made our pick of a light snack. On our way out, as we were putting our helmets back on, a teenage girl quipped, "Malamig ba?" (Is it cold?) as she pulled the hood of her shirt over her head.

Is it cold? We were close to freezing! Yup, Tagaytay City can get that cold at certain times and this was one of those.

It took us 30 minutes going up to Tagaytay and about 20 minutes back down to Dasma plus a few minutes of fun and laughter with each other...and there you have it----a totally delightful quickie!

Moisturize...moisturize...moisturize

2008-02-09T23:23:00.000+08:00

I already have dry skin and to have my hands constantly in contact with soap and soaked in water the whole day long just aggravates my skin condition.

Doing the dishes, doing the laundry, washing the toddlers’ butts, giving the kids a bath, washing the vegetables before slicing and dicing, wiping spills on the floor and the table, working on the computer, not to mention my own bath, toilet routine and brushing my teeth!—these are the everyday chores that real wear and tear the hands.

That’s why my sister’s gift of a humongous bottle of lotion was a God-send. The skin of my fingertips (toetips included!) was all cracked from dryness. At first I was quite surprised when she handed it to me. Afterall my mom had already previously given me a bottle that was the exact twin of what she was handing me.

I said, “Are you sure? I haven’t finished the bottle of lotion Ma gave me.”

“Mommies always need lotion. Especially you—you’re a fulltime mama. Moisturize your hand every time you’re done with any washing…” she replied with a grin.

Her comment made me realize that my hands badly needed moisturizing. “But the lotion will just wash off the next time I wash something (which is like after just a few minutes). It seems such a waste…” I quipped.

“That’s why I gave you a big bottle. Besides that’s what they say—never mind that the lotion gets washed out the next time you wash or clean something,” my sister replied.

So I followed sisterly prescription, trying to ignore what I viewed as a waste of the moisturizing liquid. And it worked. In just a couple of days the skin on my hands healed and got all smooth and soft again.

And just so I remember to moisturize as often as possible, I placed one bottle of lotion beside the dish drainer in the kitchen and the other bottle in the bedroom—the two places where I can be found most of the day.

If I’m not cooking or cleaning up in the kitchen, I’m in the bedroom folding clothes or getting the kids ready for bed. Hmmm….maybe I should go purchase another bottle and put that in the bathroom—my sanctuary (harharhar).

Squeezed In Time Out

2008-01-28T12:32:00.000+08:00

Finally after what seems to be like eons, I get to go out of the house. Ok so it may not be exactly what I wanted but at least for a few hours I get to be alone with myself—away from laundry, away from dishes, away from cleaning little tykes’ butts, away from “momma look at this…momma look at that”, “mama can I have this, mama can I do that”…away from scattered toys that I seem to be constantly picking up, away from ministry lessons that stare at me in the face waiting to be done, away from the church newsletter I have to complete every week…away away away---if only for a few precious hours.

Alright already! Where did I go? I went to Trinoma (it's a mall with the name that's short for Triangle North of Manila)—way way up north—to meet my boss. Okay so it’s a business meeting, but at least it’s in an altogether different setting.

Maybe I miss working outside the house, maybe I miss walking through malls on my way to work and on my way back home, maybe I miss browsing through shop windows looking at their latest “sales”, maybe I just miss the sights and sounds of the busy city. But then the thought of waiting for the bus or shuttle every morning, alighting, then getting on another bus or taxi to my place of work and going through the same route back suddenly just brings all that “missing stuff” to a sudden halt.

I feel my stomach lurch…no no no…I don’t think I can go back to doing that again. Nooooo!

So I’ll settle for this quick trip to meet my boss at one of those foreigner-owned Pinoy-franchised coffee shops that have been sprouting like mushrooms whenever a commercial niche presents itself.

No I don’t go there for the coffee either. More than a mug a day gives me a headache. And I’ve had my caffeine fix earlier in the day so I don’t need one at 4pm. I like the coffee shop ambiance though….just take away all those trying-hard-to-look-successful yuppies with their laptops and mobile phones or the looking-studious college students browsing through his college books with their titles facing out to other shop customers. For crying out loud—it’s a coffee shop where people are supposed to relax while they drink their brew, not an extension of the office or college library!

Sorry I digress. Anyway, I meet my boss. We talk shop for about an hour. He wants to know how I find my work, what’s up with the work load and what’s with the rest of the techwriters. Of course, he’s also discretely fishing for information on what we might be saying about our jobs (or about him) that we’re not telling him straight to his face. But he does it oh so sensitively and carefully.

He’s a nice boss but since we all work online at home, we don’t get to see much of him and vice versa. Since he meets his staff individually from time to time, the way things are put across from both sides might not be exactly the same for each one. Not communicating by communicating.

On my part, I’m happy with what I have at the moment on my workplate. And I’ll give it my best shot. So our talk ends quite well. And he hurries off to his next appointment. Me, I’m on my home again. Retracing my route the way I came--with a little sidetrip around the mall...hehehe.

The meeting took about an hour. My trip to the meeting place took two hours and it’s another two-hour trip via public transportation back to my house. Now you know why I don’t want to go back to work in an office.

To My Soul Sister

2008-01-25T01:53:00.000+08:00

It's my maiden post...well, on this blog at least...and I'm dedicating it to my Soul Sister (you know who you are woman!) who so animatedly encouraged me to create a blog here and write about stuff in my sphere.

Haha...dear woman. You probably have this supermom caricature of me in your head where I seem to have a handle on just about everything--my kitchen, my laundry, my kids, my husband, my ministry. Well, I hate to mar the quaint picture of success but the truth is, my real situation is not exactly how you might have it in your mind's eye.

That's why I'm glad we have our annual "catching-up-on-each-other" meetings in some mall or restaurant and not at my house (as much as I would love to have you come over and visit). You might be in for a really really big surprise. I have laundry that's close to Mt. Everest in height. The bathroom needs a facelift, the windows will appreciate a good scrubbing, some polishing will make the floor smile, my kids in Sunday School will be much happier if I got more organized with the Sunday activities, my real kids would be ecstatic if I just stuck to the 15-minute principle of time together, and my husband would probably shout "hallelujah" if I actually initiated intimate relations. Whew!

Well, soul sister...how's your picture of me now? Doing some updating? hehe...But God knows how hard I try to get my act to together. It is quite a feat though to be switching hats most of the time. And I keep telling myself: "I can do this. I can do this." What else is Philippians 4:13 for, right?

But some days woman, it really gets to me--this mommyhood thing. It's so so so much different from how I pictured it to be and planned it to be. Although I don't regret quitting my office job, the supermom picture I had in mind is harshly different from reality. Yes, reality bites. But then again, when one of my little ones gives me a mega sweet angelic smile matched with open arms closing in on me for a hug...reality's bite just doesn't matter anymore.