A Day At The Park

Everyday I tell myself about being stronger. And then the universe laughed at me and decided to test that theory-.

The eldest boy had a school excursion yesterday. And I thought no one should be left behind, so we took the trip the three of us. Suddenly I found myself plunged into a good day that turned hellishly tiring. 

First we went to see the kidney stones of Gen. Emilio Aguinaldo, our country’s first president. 

It was there, put on display at Kawit, Cavite. There for everyone to see what a hundred-old kidney stone look like. 

The trip went on awesome and fascinating.. 

Basically here's this amazing man, who five minutes beforehand,
I thought was just ordinary guy on a horse

 I’ve long held a fascination with old things – in particular its history and the stories of hardship, hope and tragedy that hide behind walls, windows, doors and secret passageways. 

Inside the mansion was eerie but because it was packed by noisy kids (and adults), the feelings were more awe-inspiring rather than otherworldly.

I huffed and I puffed back up all the stairs. Had to stop three times because I'm dreadfully unfit. And hugely overweight. But I did it.

This one is spooky enough. 

We continued the trip to the Manila Ocean Park. We walked our legs off, continued to trudge around, being amazed on all their new attractions. Ladies, remember to wear a strong bra on the Megarider. It's a roller coaster ride inside the park.... very rickety. 

And then we set foot at the Trails of Antartica. Brrr!

"Son, these are real penguins...not ducks"

Official Christmas Photo, Manila Ocean Park 2013

Next: Birds of Prey!

The kids cheered at the large birds flying overhead and they were all so happy. 
So very off-the-cuff, spur of the moment happy. 

It’s like being inside the bird cage of Jurassic Park.

The whole trip was amazing. I'm happy that, as parents, we were able to let our children feel amazed, be informed and experienced these kind of activities.

It was all up-lifting.

Except that it burned my budget for the next week.

::

How about you? when was the last time you took the kids out?

Hello September

I'm relatively happy to wave August goodbye, with its seasonal thunderstorms and floods, and memories of hospitals, and one too many stresses of the here and now.

I’m waving it farewell in order to welcome the start to one of my favorite times of the year:

**Christmas** 

(which is a September - January affair for me).

September is the ideal time for thinking anything shining, shimmering, splendid. So as I sit, trying to ram knowledge into my brain, my mind tends to wander to more delightful things. But this blog is officially welcoming you the best holiday season ever!.

And such as what I want to do this December:

*Treat mother to her favorite place
*Have a picnic in some beautiful gardens
*Watch live TV show
*Make no-bake goodies as Christmas give-aways
*Visit bazzars and night markets.
*Eat at Banchettos in Pasig.
*Sleep in a hammock
*Go to the zoo and look at penguins.

I'm sure more things will pop into my head as I think about it...

Christmas to me is always more than just the 25th, it's the run up to it.

So, there. I give up. I'll keep my anticipation, thank-you very much, and you can keep your problems. I don't want them, they’re bitter and thoughtful.

::

Where I Screamed My Head Off

People are way too serious about death. I am serious about death. It hurts, it's unfair, it's scary as hell, it's despiteful, all that's true. But sometimes the only way to get through it is to recognize the ridiculous in the horrible. Because what will it all matter in a hundred years. Because life is silly. Because we're all just temporary. And because what else can you do.

I say a lot of times that while I am hopeful and a great believer of God’, I am also a realist. I don’t do fantasy or make-believe. I know cancer. Not all of it though but I know it’s alive and vicious, will go to remission for awhile but fired back at an instant.

So while I am at where I am at, I could use some breathing space, right?

So my house looked like this last Monday.

Meet the audience: a son, daughter, few nephews, nieces,
and a bunch of neighbors's kids. 

Me: What the hell is going on in there?

Kid: Ma, manood tayo ng Conjuring

Me: Is it okay?

Kid: ….

Me: **covers all the mirrors**

So I’m sitting there next to my little girl with pillow on her face. I even saw the beginning of it but I had to ask again and again if the ghost will appear yet. Now, normally my philosophy about everything concerning ghost movies is "If I can't see it, it's not my problem."

But of course, my older nephew leapt at the opportunity to regale us with the plot of the movie.

"Well, you see, they moved in that creepy house and that's where the dog would back all day. Before she will be discovered dead the next day. You can see where the tapping is heard, all because that’s where the killing happened..."

Half an hour later, we were all screaming. I think my uterus ruptured, or my eggs cracked. I don't know.

Once everyone was able to calm down and stop shrieking, after a few seconds of silence we would burst into screaming again.

Now I can't stop thinking about that cellar scene. It’s where the possessed Carolyn out to get the child and Patrick Wilson with his Elvis-like flip haircut and sideburns, is stuck in a hole saying his exorcism rites while Vera Farmiga’s Liberace-style collar ruffles is lulling her to think of their best time as a family.

So there.

I feel like I could be a good movie critic, though, because while other critics will give you intellectual point-by-point breakdowns on things like story arc and character development, I base my evaluations on emotional impact alone. Did I laugh? Did I cry? Did I sink into a near-death phasmophobia or extreme fear of ghosts and require six months of bi-weekly visits with a psychologist afterwards before I could sleep through the night again?

Oh I love you and hate you, Conjuring.

You scared the hell out me.

Kids, Inc.

Hello to you all my dear friends. I’ve been into a lot of things lately so busy I was not able to update my blog. Well lot of things would mean the youngest kid going now to school, my birthday, my mother’s hospitalization and my endless things to buy and things to do.

Well.

As I said, Yana started big school today. And neither of us cried.



There's such a revolting feeling when your child starts kindy. Who will help them open their crackers? How can they possibly go to a bathroom stall by themselves? The classroom is SO BIG, and she is SO LITTLE. How can this happen?

So we have one girl now in kindy and one boy in year four, at different schools. I keep telling my son in my best Rizzo voice that he's gonna"Ruuule the school."

By the time I was my sons's age, I was already thinking about my future like who will I marry, and how many kids will I have. I don’t feel so pretty then but I know that somewhere out there a little boy is also growing to be my husband.

I also tell him that because he is so strong and tall and popular, he has a duty to watch out for kids who need his help, who might be bullied. He tells me he does - I hope he does.

You think your kids are set once they are no longer babies, that the hardest part is over. It's not. It's a whole new ballgame, one I never saw coming until it came and I was all um, I didn't order this particular parenting sandwich?!

Fights, arm wrestling, limits ignored, harsh words. The severe worry and panic that you are totally wasting these kids up. It's completely terrifying. I just hope it's minimal, that not too much damage is being done, and that when they go out into the world they're armed with enough confidence to take care of themselves. And respect themselves and other people.



Financially, we often just lurch from one problem/crisis to the next. I've been parenting for nine years now. I've sucked at it, been awesome at it, loved it, loathed it. It demands so much, to look after people who can't look after themselves quite yet. Sometimes I count up on my fingers how many more years until it's just me and Hubs again, like, boyfriend/girlfriend.

But man they keep us anchored. And responsible. We're all just a bunch of crazy people, doing the best we can.

Cats and Dogs

These guys fight like crazy. You'd think five years difference would mean no fighting.

Wrong. They can fight so often and so relentlessly that the voice out of my head sounds like a strangled cat on a hot day.

You’d think they don’t fight over the same toy just because they’re opposite sex?

Wrong again. They screamed and will kill each other for this.

I hiss at them to stop fighting. Use all my power to stop them. Yell. Cursed. Begged, Cried.

It's infuriating. Fighting is the one thing that really grates on me. I ask other mothers of two if their children fight and the answer is always yes.

But they also miss each other, make up, start all over again.

They laugh and fight, make up then start fighting again. But they adore the hell out of each other.

I adore the hell out of them too. So much I can hardly stand it.

Cuteness Overload

Meet the cute Ryzza Mae Dizon from Pampanga. She’s the latest addition to your favorite Eat Bulaga at lunch time. She was just your average 7-year old until last year, when she made her debut on the national television when she bagged the show’s Little Miss Philippines title. But the best, most exciting part? she is short, fair, flat nose but cute and beautiful just the same. And she’s the latest in a group of trailblazing kids who are making a difference just by being themselves. I love how times have changed now. Beauty is no longer what you see. It is how you feel in your own skin. No stereotypes.

As TAPE Inc.’s Tony Tuviera, the man behind the 30 years old Eat Bulaga said, "She is charming and equally deserving of same opportunities regardless of any physical, economic and social condition given to any child in the industry.”

Dance to her “Cha-cha” song and get that good, old belly dance.







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"Para po pumayat kayo, sumayaw lang kayo ng Chaha tuwing umaga
at saka po tanghali. Huwg kakalimutan nakanganga at saka
ang Chacha po dapat nasa puso."