Under the Sea...or something like it

(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

(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

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

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. =)

The Kitchen Sink

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!

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

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?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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...

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

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. =)