Mr. Potatohead as you've never seen him before

Here, tucked inside Miguel's latest art attack...is Mr. Potatohead.

I really like it.

I know that my brother would be appalled if he sees this, it being so girly.

You can blame me for that, because most of the stuff is mine. And I was the one who gave Miguel the violet paper. He asked me for colored paper, and that was the only unused sheet that I could find.

The round box came from a craft project I made in one of Mama Aly's children's parties, and some of the beads came from a broken bracelet of mine. That's why everything looks so girly. And that's why I like it.

The earthworm, of course, is his.

But honestly, as an artist, I find it quite good. It's an example of unbridled creativity, and I totally support it. Except that I don't know if anybody will pay money to buy it off him.

Actually, you could call it a collaboration, because I was the one who wrapped and taped the potato, "so that you can see the shape," as he instructed. And I was also the glue gun operator.

The sweetest thing is that Miguel made it for Ninang, who just left for camp Friday night. He made it for her because he will miss her. Awww. Too bad she won't get to see it for 21 days.

I reminded him that since he has to keep it intact, he cannot play with Mr. Potatohead until she comes back. His response: "Grr. I knew that I should have put holes in it."

62/100

Die, varmints!

Okay, so I've been waking up around 2AM or 4AM for the past 4 days. And guess who's responsible? No, not my wisecracking, hyperactive, super inquisitive, ADD-suspect son. But scores of tiny, sneaky, stubborn, insiduous, stinging ants! In my bed!

What did they think I was, a midnight snack?

Lately ants have been invading strange parts of our home, like my mother's bathroom and the computer table. They must know something that we don't.

My guess is that they invaded my bed because I sorted Miguel's pre-school artworks there a few days ago. I suspect that among all those drawings, stained glass windows, mosaics and mixed media, there must have been some sugar. For the record, I do not eat in my room...and neither do I store snacks there.

I thought that vacuuming the mattress would do the trick, but apparently not. They may be tiny, but their bites really do sting! By the 4th night I had had it with the rude awakenings. So instead of brushing them off my bed or crushing the nasty biters between my fingers, I decided to be more methodical in my extermination.

No, I did not burn the mattress. I just got pieces of scotch tape and stuck them in between. A bit labor-intensive, but sure to get the job done.

By now you're starting to worry if I have a sick mind. But if you ask me it's more humane than what I did to that cockroach in my bathroom when I was in college. Never again! Besides, it would ruin the marble tile.

Now I've got a tiny collage of scotch-taped ants on my bedside table. I'm thinking of posting them on my headboard, just as a warning to other intrepid ants. Kind of like Vlad Dracula impaling victims in the front of his castle.

You can run, but you can't hide!

61/100

Portfolio

Woke up at 2AM, and as I sometimes do when I wake up in the middle of the night, I started to fix my room.

My first target was a clear book filled with a hodgepodge of stuff, namely Miguel's piano pieces and bits of my portfolio. It's about time that I organized it, since he practices piano every day. I keep forgeting to buy another clear book, so we'll have to share this one a bit longer.

Going through through my partial portfolio, I noticed that I had included a short story and a children's poem. Those were from the days that I wrote for children's educational TV. I looked at them side-by-side with my print ads, and then I realized: my short stories are way better than my print ads.

Not to say that I haven't had any ads that I'm proud of. They're all decent, some are cute, and a few I really like. Just a few. But the stories - now those I really enjoyed writing.

It takes a little blood and sweat too to create a story. But sometimes you can call it "sweet sweat." You don't mind the effort. Other times you work too hard that the story becomes "tired" and you have to throw it out. And then there are times when the work is effortless; when you crank out a good piece - or a good painting - in just 30 minutes. But that's rare, I must point out.

By "good" I mean "good enough for me." Keep in mind that your friends are a different set of critics, you colleagues another, the publishers yet another, and the general public still another.

Gosh, when I think about it I have so much output - in terms of paintings and writings as well. At the time you make them they are all okay, but when you look at them after a few years your opinion changes. Except for the ones that you're really proud of.

But what matters I guess is that you're satisfied at the time that you produce it.

Gee, I talk too much. Gotta get back to bed.

60/100

Peace

All right, all right. Saw the bus operator this morning. She's okay. I'll stop calling her crazy.

Erase erase erase.

59/100

Rock 'n roll

As my son discovered, it ain't so grand missing a day of school.

Good thing that I was able to sleep in all morning while he was in school, because when he got home, he had a lot of assignments: review this, answer that, and prepare for the quiz tomorrow. Not to mention that he had to go to his piano lesson. We were on a tight schedule just to get everything done.

Poor kid had to answer the worksheets that he missed, plus I insisted that he answer his textbook as well. Turns out he had to do 10 pages just for his Reading subject. Towards the end of his review session, he was already getting tired. I had give him a breather, so guess what we did instead? We reviewed Math, his favorite subject. AAAAAUUGGGHHH! That's how tight we were for time.

He said it so well, "I knew that being absent wouldn't be a good thing."

Now we know. Beware the Friday quiz.

Anyway, when he finally reviewed all his lessons, I said, "congratulations, you're finished!" And with that he let out a big sigh of relief and plopped on his bed. I'm not kidding; in that moment he looked 3 to 5 years older. He was mentally tired. And I was emotionally drained too - from nagging him to finish his worksheets in time.

We zoned out on his bed, and after a while he stood up to get his musical instruments. He grabbed his harmonica and gave me his drum. I was just as stressed out, so we tooted and banged and made a whole lot of noise. "Follow my beat!" he said. The neighbors might have found it weird, but I didn't care; we just had to get rid of this stress, both mother and son. Besides, it was still early.

We kept changing instruments: xylophone, tambourine, maraccas. At one point I even made a louder ruckus just to get some release. My son did good, and I'm gonna let him make some noise!

After about 30 minutes we were ready to wind down.

What a relief.

Don't be surprised if we have another concert.

58/100

Looking for home

(For Wednesday, June 28, 2006)

So there I was in Miguel's old pre-school waiting for him to finish his piano lesson. He bounced back to health today and was well enough to go to school, but I was still recovering from the flu. Meanwhile, his nanny came down with something much worse, so I took it upon myself to accompany him to the 1-hour lesson. It was low-stress anyway, and I had a driver.

While we were there we saw so many friendly faces: his friends, his ex-teachers, co-teachers, and even parents of ex-classmates. People greeting you and your son by name, asking how you are. It was so comfortable, so much like home. That's the benefit of going to a small school.

I was wondering, when am I going to feel that way in Ateneo? Who knows, maybe it'll happen. Maybe I'll find some semblance of "family." Maybe in that guard who's always there when I see him off, or the guidance counselor who escorted my tearful son to his classroom during the first week of class. Maybe that co-parent with whom I swapped contact numbers with during PTC day or maybe even that crazy bus operator.

I'm just looking forward to feeling that way there.

57/100

Get well soon

I come home from work with a bouquet and Miguel asks, "what's it for?" I smile and say, "it's because I'm sick." Then he pipes up, "but I'm sick too!" I laugh and tell him that the flowers are for both of us.

Yeah, we got the bug.

Later at bedtime he catches me taking a cellphone snapshot of the bouquet. "Why are you taking a picture of the flowers?" he asks. "So I can remember them," I say. "I want a picture with the flowers too," he says. So, voila!

Well, a little confession here. I always take a snapshot of the flowers Mike gives me. And like I said, it's because I want to remember them.

I so love flowers! Wouldn't you guess by the many arrangements I've painted already? And I know my mom loves them too; I'm like her. Well come to think of it, it's a rare woman that doesn't like them.

I'm of the belief that it's better to give flowers to people while they're alive to appreciate them. As long as I get them during my lifetime I won't mind a simple flower-free funeral. Maybe I'll put out a sign, "in lieu of flowers...."

Anyway, I'm just glad that I've got a guy who loves giving them as much as I love receiving them.

56/100

Nerd

Exam week is one month away and I'm already thinking of making a reviewer.

Nerd! Nerd! Nerd!

I have a good friend whose son is a consistent honor student in Ateneo and I remember him telling me that whenever it was exam week, his wife would take 3 days off her extremely high pressure work (she was an accounts head in advertising) just to review their son.

Man, I don't know if I'm ready to do that. Talk about commitment. But then of course my friend's wife comes from a family of consistent honor students. Her son has good genes. Good study habits are probably transmitted through their DNA.

I was also a bit scared - is that what it takes to get through Ateneo? It's not uncommon to hear of Ateneo kids spending their afternoons with tutors. But I - I just want my kid to have a life after school.

A couple of years back I consulted with another friend, who taught at the Ateneo Grade School for several years. She now holds tutorials in her home in Katipunan. She told me that the only reason that parents send their kids to her for lessons is because they don't have the time to review them after school.

Bingo.

Doesn't that sound just like me. I'd be happy if I could just get home in time for dinner. (Cue in guilty thoughts. Fade in video of Miguel waving his finger at me and saying, "Follow my finger...you will let me play Cartoonnetwork.com everyday." Nice try, bud.)

The good news is that my OC son seems to have good study habits. After settling down at home and eating lunch, he will automatically do his assignments before going off to play or watch TV. Thank God for that. And thank God that I read Queena Lee and Maribel Dionisio's article about good study habits when it was published in the Inquirer several years ago.

Now I understand why his teacher makes him review the work sheets almost every day.

And to think that he's only in Prep.

55/100

So that's how ganglion cysts disappear

Yesterday as I was in the shower I hit the cyst in my wrist against the wall - OUCH! - that gave me a dull ache for a few hours.

This morning instead of a shiny, bulbous protrusion I have a wider, flatter bump where it used to be. Maybe the impact ruptured the sheath and the liquid's dispersing into my hand.

I just hope that it doesn't recur.

53/100

Explaining the silence

(For Friday, June 23, 2006)

If you noticed I've been skipping a few posts.

Over the past few days I've had to deal with a silly - correction, wacko - school bus operator who had me confused with a different client.

I will spare you the petty details.

But suffice it to say that the incident was so annoying that I actually witnessed my mother lose her patience at the woman. She actually got mad. But in a very dignified way. See, she's human after all :)

And for that, the incident will always stand out in my mind.

52/100

Hallelujah!

I finally put my son on the bus this morning! No tears, no trouble.

The kids made a fuss over him the minute he got in. Maybe because they're used to seeing him only during dismissal time, when he rides with them without a hitch. As the bus drove away, Miguel turned and blew me a kiss.

I even called the bus driver afterwards, and he assured me that Miguel was okay during the ride.

My secret: I told him that if he makes a fuss on the way to school, he doesn't get to watch TV for the rest of the day PLUS he loses 5 minutes from his weekend Playstation time. But if he goes to school without any trouble, he gets to watch TV and gets 5 extra minutes playing video games this weekend.

I've been doing this for the past few days while I was bringing him to school myself. So far the technique seems to work.

And it's amazing what I was able to accomplish in the 2 hours before I headed off to work: cleaned my drawers and one closet. Who knows, maybe one day I might even muster the energy to paint :)

50/100

Escape

As my sister the teacher says, parent-teacher conferences are a way of giving teachers a break. Well we parents know how to take a break too. After meeting Miguel's teacher for the PTC, I took the rest of the morning off...helloooo spa!

I haven't had a full-body massage in months! It was so good to just lie down and have someone kneading my muscles. It's probably the only time I don't mind being treated like a piece of meat.

Soothing music, the soft hum of airconditioning, the smell of eucalyptus, clean sheets against your skin, and expert hands skillfully rubbing the stress away. Sigh.

It would've been great to take the whole day off, but I have to make judicious use of my vacation leaves. Besides, I already committed to a couple of meetings today. Work is work.

But man, play is way okay too!

48/100

Culture

Went to see my friend May's art exhibit today, with Miguel in tow. The gallery at UP CFA (College of Fine Arts) was part of a long itinerary, which included: a trip to Ateneo to familiarize him with the routes to his classroom; a heavy merienda (snack) at Jollibee; a trip to Claret so he can see what other schools are like; a quick pass at Kamuning Elementary School; and a haircut at the barber's. I kid you not - we did all that in 4 1/2 hours.

But I digress.

I was very excited for May, who is finally having her first one-woman show. Her canvases range in size from small to gigantic. The way I see it, her works are mainly about shape, since she used mainly square formats with round aluminum washers as major elements. Then of course there is texture, with overly-generous strokes of acrylic and the addition of mixed media. She also chose a dominant color for each artwork, which, along with the circle-square balance, help unify each piece.

Hey, this is just my opinion, okay?

My favorite is a work called "Body," the invitation piece, which my friend bought. It's a very strong (red) piece that can hold a wall on its own. I especially like the swath of different materials, like a palette of textures, across the midsection.

Miguel's favorite art piece is called "Meteor Shower," which as it turns out was acquired by another friend. It's another favorite of mine too. I must say that my son shows good taste.




By the way, here's an extreme close-up of one painting that he took so that, as he said, "you can put it on your blog."



It was nice dropping by the CFA after all these years. I saw a few "kids" in front of the padlocked studios, with their trademark CFA attitude. Driving up I could tell that they were sizing me up, and knew right away that I used to be from the college. You bet your ass.

Haay. It's so good to know that you've been around.

46/100

I hereby declare

that being Superwoman is humanly impossible. As I wake up in a stupor at my desk (talk about a powernap) I ask myself, "what was I thinking?"

It is physically impossible for me to bring my son to school every day then go to work in Makati. I'm sure it's even worse if I try to take the train everyday, because that would mean taking a 20-minute walk across four city blocks and man would I be exhausted!

Waking up at 430AM is no joke with my schedule. Even if I limit my social life to weekend nights, I still end up sleeping late because I have a launch event to attend (morale support for the brand) or a 10PM on-line meeting (yes, it happened last week).

Not to mention minor emergencies like Miguel's school bag breaking down yesterday, so that last night I had to go to the mall (after the aforementioned launch) and buy him a kick-ass stroller bag, the kind with a lifetime warranty.

And speaking of weekends, I don't always have the weekend off. Last weekend was spent in Hawaii, Pixar, and the Power Rangers. The one before that was spent on Miguel's birthday, his recital, and his first-day-of-school preparations (see the June 5 entry)

My body's been screaming for sleep for days.

Come to think of it, I'm not new to sleep deprivation. No mom is, I'm sure. Some years back I asked Gai if i could crash in her house anytime, even for 2 hours of rest. I believe that her offer still stands. For the record, I've used her house only once. Another time I showed up at my uncle's house after a shoot and slept for a couple of hours before I walked home.

It was important that I sleep in someone else's house because if I tried to nap in my house, Miguel would somehow find me and my beauty rest would be interrupted.

Back then I just needed to catch some sleep because of work. Today the combination of big-school responsibility and work is bearing down on my waking moments like a big, heavy metal helmet.

Man, I'm putting him on that bus next week.

I seriously need a break.

45/100

For the record

Here's a list of Miguel's favorite foods.

1. strawberry
2. chicken joy
3. chocolate
4. french fries
5. pan de sal with butter and jam
6. fruit shake (mango banana)
7. piyaya
8. iced tea
9. churros
10.barquillos

and don't forget his his thosandth favorite:

1000. peanuts

This list was developed as we drove home from church last weekend; it was a successful atempt to distract him and get his mind off something. So successful that even I don't remember what we were talking about before this.

Oh well.

44/100

The fruit of our labors

Lazy post I know it is, but considering that I had to get up at 4AM today I make no apologies.

Yes, you can add this to my "magpakatotoo ka" list of photos. I look really harrassed here. (These days, I always look harrassed.) But guess who felt like a million bucks?

Totally worth it.

Would I do it again? Hmm. Let me think about it.

43/100

A message from my cerebral cortex

sometimesidon'tknowwhogetsmoretraumatizedthesonorthemother
don'tworryi'llbeokaywe'llbeokaywilljusthavetomakeafewmoresacri ficesoverthecomingweekswe'lladjustwe'lladjustwe'lladjust

42/100

It may be bad acting

...but the Power Rangers are BIG.

On Sunday, as we ate a late lunch, Miguel and I saw it on TV: meet the Power Rangers at Shangri-La Mall. "Oh, cool!" we thought. We junked the idea of going for his haircut and casually invited Ninang along. "It'll only take a while," I said. Big mistake.

We braved an afternoon thunderstorm just to get Shang, and when we arrived, we were engulfed by quite another storm. It was called "Dino Thunder." It made fools of kids and parents alike, who waited in line for hours just to get a photo onstage with the Power Rangers.

Four hours later my sis was one credit card swipe poorer, my son was one toy richer, and I was one tired but wiser mommy. Yes we got the coveted photo, but I can't post it for bragging rights just yet 'cause I forgot to bring the camera for downloading.

Well, there's a first time for everything.

41/100

Happy birthday

Today is my father's birthday. He would have been 71 today.

When he passed away almost 6 years ago it was difficult to believe that he was gone. I remember thinking to myself, "so this is what Jesus's disciples must have felt when he died." It was just...unbelievable. In spite of his chronic illness, he made a lasting impression as someone so powerful, so successful, so charming, so funny. You thought that he could do anything, even charm the consul into giving you a US visa.

I think that during the time that he was so ill, we always chose to remember him as strong. Chronic sickness has a way of doing that to you. When there's no way out, sometimes all you have left are the memories. And of course we prefer the good ones to the bad.

Today I try to imagine what he would be like if he were alive, but I can't. My life doesn't resemble what it did back when he was still around. My son has grown up since, and so have I.

Maybe he would be like my uncle, his brother. Two seniors slowing down in the twilight of their lives surrounded by a gaggle of growing grandchildren. Isn't that a comforting thought.

He would've made a great grandpa.

40/100

Portent

So there was my son, frolicking with little girls in the blue-tiled kiddie pools of the swanky Rockwell Club. As early as now he's chasing girls. Well, only because he wants to splash water and play around with them. I imagine it's going to be the same deal 15 years from now.

We were there for our neighbor's 7th birthday party, and what a bash it was! In harmony with the Hawaiian theme, they had straw hats, plastic leis, colored sunglasses...and of course little girls in bikinis :)

It really is amazing to see these kids grow up together. Back when I was still working part-time, I used to take Miguel for a walk around the neighborhood at 5PM. Chasey's house was one of our stops and we'd stop to talk or play. Other times we'd meet at the park. Much later on Ninang would bring him over there for indoor play time. Now he and Chase are going to big school.

As another parent and I sat watching the kids, we commented how girls socialized much earlier than boys. Chasey has a best friend already, and we watched the 2 girls whisper and hold hands and run away from my son. And still my son would chase them. And try to kiss them too, sometimes.

Oh no.

I imagine it's going to be the same deal 15 years from now.

39/100

Baggage

He sent a birthday greeting through a friend.

And that's how I found out that I'm still angry.

That's all.

38/100

"I don't want to go to Ateneo"

Me: Why?
Miguel: Because they have so many rules.
Me: Like what?
Miguel: You must put your books on the left side, and your envelope on the right side.
Me: Well that makes sense Miguel: so that when you need your book, you know that it is always on the left side. You do not even have to look. And you also know that the envelope is always on the right side. What else?
Miguel: You have to put down the handle of your bag and put it under your table.
Me: Well, I guess so that it does not block the lane so that people can pass.
Miguel: And I don't like to walk on the blue line!

(There are blue lines painted on the corridors for prep kids to follow when they walk. I know, I know. Talk about overkill. But I just told him that you need them to keep order because it's such a big school and there are so many kids.)

Pause.

Me: Do you think that Ateneo is OC?
Miguel: Yes.
Me: Do you know somebody who is OC?
Miguel, suppressing a smile: Me?
Me: Who else?
Miguel, laughing: You!
Me, laughing: See...
Miguel, quickly snapping out of it: But I still don't want to go to Ateneo!
...

This conversation happened at around 4:45AM, he waking up earlier than expected. I got home past his bedtime last night and we didn't get to discuss this except briefly through the phone. Imagine, I joined him on his bed for a few moments after he woke up, and not long after he said, "there's something I have to tell you."

Anyway I had already cancelled the bus service for that morning; I brought him to school myself. I still have to find out later how the day turned out for him.

37/100

Big school blues

I never realized how having a son in Ateneo could take over my entire life. Can you imagine what it does for his?

For example, I've been waking up no later than 5AM for the past 3 days. And I've been going to sleep not earlier than 1AM. That's because I've had to cover, label, bookmark, laminate, and pack all his things in preparation for the first few days. And to think that I already did advance preparations over the summer.

Glad to say that everything has been accomplished. Today he was required to bring EVERYTHING to school - for the teacher's inspection, I suppose. I think that I passed with flying colors.

Now I call home every morning to ask how his class was, and to find out what his assignments are. Being the mom of an Ateneo student requires commitment. As my cousin says, you need to be OC to make it in this school. That goes for both parent and student. And considering that Miguel is a third generation OC, well, I guess that you could say that he's pedigreed :)

All that aside, he seems to be adjusting well to big school.

36/100

Quickie post 3

(For Sunday, June 4, 2006)

The night before his first day, I stayed up until 2AM labeling absolutely everything that he would bring to school. No, it's not just me; the teacher actually asked us to label every pencil and Crayola.

But you won't believe it - the next morning my mom actually found a couple of things that I forgot to label! Nobody beats my mom when it comes to being OC :)

34/100

Quickie post 2

(For Saturday, June 3, 2006)

Another photo with Teacher Ems! Isn't she preeetty? When I finally met her during the first recital I understood why my son likes taking piano lessons.

But kidding aside, Miguel really enjoys studying with Teacher Ems. She's very good with children and I can see that she really has passion about what she does. There was a time last year when she missed several sessions due to stress, but I'm so glad that my mom convinced me to keep Miguel in the program.

The summer recital was a cozier one, with less participants and a smaller venue. Miguel played 2 pieces, the same ones that he performed at his lolo's (grandfather's) 75th birthday.

The first thing that he asked me at the end of the recital, after he got his medal, was "can I continue taking piano lessons?" Yes, my son...absolutely! :)

33/100

Quickie post 1

(For Friday, June 2, 2006)

Thank God for photos! I'll do a post a day for a hundred days, no matter if I'm late.

We had a nice party with the cousins, Chloe and Chino, Chasey, and Arianna and Roque. So I guess that all my kiddie guests could be considered Miguel's cousins. We had swimming, balloons, cake, games, and lots and lots of chips. And oh yeah, the food. We were constantly grazing until dinnertime.


Note to self: next time get a party host.

Miguel told all of us his birthday wish: "I wish I could spend more time with mommy!"

I didn't know if I should feel flattered or embarrassed. Nevertheless, my sister was right: I think he's gonna get his wish.

32/100

Whirlwind weekend

This is an apology of sorts.

Ateneo orientation and Miguel's birthday, Friday. Miguel's piano recital, Saturday. Last-minute preparations, Sunday. First day of classes, Monday.

All I'm dreaming about is going to the spa. But I still gotta go to work.

Maybe someday.

35/100

Chocolate love

(For Wednesday, May 31, 2006)

Last night on the way home from my uncle's 75th birthday celebration, I glanced at the back seat and saw Miguel seated beside my mom, tired and quiet but happy.

Me: Did you enjoy yourself at the party?
Miguel: Yes.
Me: What part did you like best?

In the dark I could hear his smile.

Miguel: The chocolate fountain. One day I want to have a real chocolate fountain.
Me: But Miguel, that was a real chocolate fountain.
Miguel: I want a bigger one.

Mom and I laugh. I didn't mention that his shirt had chocolate drippings less than 5 minutes into the appetizers.

Miguel: When I go to sleep I'm going to dream of chocolate marshmallows.

Sweet dreams, Miguel.

31/100

Lucky day!

Guess what, I just won 2 tickets to the new IMAX theater in SM Mall of Asia. All right! And to think that 2 posts ago I wrote that I wanted to watch Superman on that screen.

Funny 'cause it happened while I was driving to work today. And to think that a) I don't always drive to work; and b) I took the extra car today because of coding. My own car, if you didn't know, has a busted radio.

And to top it off, I was able to win the radio contest - thanks to Jam 88.3! - while driving on EDSA and not getting caught by the MMDA, haha! The technique: put the phone on your lap and but keep the radio on real low so you can hear your cue. Fortunately I had pulled over at a side street off Ayala Avenue by the time I had to go on air.

Anyway, Miguel and I are gonna have a real treat :)

30/100

Bee happy

(For Tuesday, May 30, 2006)

I gotta hand it to Jollibee...they know what kids want. And they know what parents are willing to shell out. Granted, they didn't invent the kiddie meal phenomenon, but they are milking it to the hilt here.

Yesterday I was with a 4-year old girl. As she was eating a to-die-for chocolate cupcake with thick, rich icing on it, I asked her what her favorite food in the world is. Her answer: fried chicken and rice. Instinctively, asked, "Does it have to come with a toy?" She nodded "yes" enthusiastically.

In a recent seminar that I attended, I learned that kids in very poor families look at Jollibee as their Toy Kingdom (the local version of Toys 'R Us) and proudly display their prized Kiddie Meal toys at home.

I must admit that I do find Jollibee's Chicken Joy quite delicious; so much that I don't mind finishing up after Miguel when we order a kiddie meal. It's one of the few dishes that he eats with gusto. At least I know that he likes the food and the toy.

So here's a photo of the Wolverine Disc Launcher that I bought at the Jollibee drive-through late last night. Because I promised my son that I would get it.

My officemate who's a bigtime action figure collector (think Toy Kingdom collectibles) pointed out that McDonald's makes better toys than Jollibee. And you know what? He's right. Some of the Jollibee stuff turned out to be duds, quality-wise. It has to do mostly with misaligned parts and poor connecting joints. But 80% of the time you'll find me driving over to Jollibee. Because my son asks for it.

Now that's what I call successful marketing.

29/100

Anticipation

Here are the 3 things that Gueli is excited about:

1. His birthday ("I can't wait for it!")
2. Getting 2 more Jolly kiddie meals so that he can complete his X-Men Shuttle collection
3. Completing all the craft projects in an activity book that we found

Here are the 3 things that I'm excited about:
1. Gueli getting his room
2. Me fixing my room
3. Superman movie in the IMAX theater :)

(Does having my car fixed count as well?)

28/100

Over the weekend

(For Sunday, May 28, 2006)

Here's the boy playing with mosaic tiles. Excellent toy. Helps hone his "Math wizard" skills. He wanted to do every design on the box, then have me take a picture of each work.

This is also the first time that I'm publishing a picture of him in glasses.

27/100

Moving out

(For Saturday, May 27, 2006)

Today Aida altered the curtains for Miguel's room. I told him, "Hey, after the curtains are in place, all we have to do is move in your bed." His response: "Let's move it in today!"

Whoa.

I didn't realize that he was so ready for this. So I left instructions for our househelp to move in the bed while we went to watch a movie with the beau. One movie, several video games, two cream puffs, and 2 kiddie meals later, Miguel and I went to see his room - finally complete. After his bath I found him playing contentedly in his new room.

I guess that having the toys transfer ahead of him made him eager to cross over. Or maybe it really is about time.

By bedtime, I knew for sure that he really liked his new room. He got my extra blanket and asked me to help him make a "tent."

As we agreed beforehand, I stayed with him until he fell asleep. We kept a nightlight on in his room, and we kept the doors of the adjoining bathroom open.

As I lay down alone at last in my roomier bedroom, I couldn't help but feel a tad poignant. It was so quiet. I realized that I coudn't hear him snoring softly any more. Neither can I hear him toss and turn in the middle of the night. But my boy's growing up.

And for that, I'm proud.

26/100

Wow

Thanks to the people who've been reading my blog. Do visit again! :)

Tint

Yesterday I was blow-drying my hair and then I saw it: a white strand. That's the second in as many days. An occasional strand once in a blue moon is okay. But now it's quite possible that there might be more. It's hard for me to conceive of myself as having white hair.

I remember that when we were kids we used to pull out my mom's white strands and get 10 cents for each piece. Nowadays mom has a hairdresser visit once a month for her henna hair treatment. It's a natural-looking dye which makes her hair appear as if it has highlights. I wonder, will I be doing the same thing 30 years from now?

In my head I think that I am still young but that white strand begs to differ.

25/100

Riding on the Metro

I've been taking the train for over a year now, and lately when I get down to the station, I hear this song in my head:

I remember searching for the perfect words
I was hoping you might change your mind
I remember a soldier sleeping next to me
Riding on the Metro

It's from The Metro by Berlin. This song is SOO eighties.

Anyway, the Inquirer reported a couple of weeks back that MRT ridership is at an all-time high. Not surprising, considering the rising cost of fuel. I still remember when gas cost P19 per liter; this week it just breached the P40 mark. Looks like it wants to catch up with the Peso-Dollar rate.

I always dress down when I have to take the train, which is practically every day. Exceptions will be when I have a client presentation or a date. In most of those instances I just bring the car since I plan to wear heels. But I just couldn't bring myself to "dress up" when I take the train. Tanks and sleeveless shirts are a no-no for me there.

After more than 10 years of driving myself around, I'm glad to say that I adjusted to commuting pretty well. At first I missed having my privacy every morning. But in time I learned to "shut off" the other commuters and became capable of accessing my deepest thoughts while navigating my way to work. Taking the train became automatic, in much the same way that I can drive on "auto-pilot."

While I did miss the freedom to go anywhere with my own set of wheels, I just reminded myself that I had to take the train day in and day out while I was in art school in New York.

Now that's a happy memory. It was the first time that I was away from my family for an extended period of time, and I really loved what I was doing then. I loved New York, and I loved the independence of going out into the city on your own. Imagine, you can just go anywhere and nobody would know where you are.

Well, glad to say that I was I good girl back then. I didn't go off into the bad side of town and didn't take too many excursions except to museums, art galleries, and the occasional Japanese restaurant. I was mindful of the fact that every art class cost XX dollars, so I wanted to make the most of the investment. Plus I really wanted to learn.

There were so many characters I encountered at the NY subway:

• the street musician singing Elton John's "I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues" to a guitar accompaniment:
  

  Laughing like children, living like lovers
  Rolling like thunder under the covers
  And I guess that's why they call it the blues;

• the occasional black guy who solicited money on board, or should I say, intimidated riders into giving it;

• the Asian lady who made up her face professionally while seated on the train;

• and not to mention the man showed me his hairy tummy on the outdoor train platform - he said that he was a stripper and that they called him the "Wolfman." He got embarrassed when he realized that I wasn't interested in seeing his carpet.

Anyway, riding the MRT really gives me a slice of life. And yes, I am well aware that I am part of that pie. A couple of months back I remember seeing a young man in folded-back longsleeves and slicked-back hair during the morning trip. "Oh," I thought to myself, "a metrosexual on the metro." He stood out at the time, but then more and more upscale-looking people have been getting on the train that it isn't so unusual anymore. I imagine that I must have stuck out like a sore thumb in the beginning too.

Anyway, the metro is one thing that I'm glad for in this city.

24/100

Ever heard of Bo

...Sanchez? His writings have been circulating in the emails for years, and some time ago I came across another priceless one.

It was about being "emotionally present" to your family. You really ought to read the whole article. But I liked the part where he said that you should praise your kids seven times a day. Glad to say that it's something that I do, from simple things like "you're so cute," "I like the way you're sitting" (with feet of the chair), or "I like it that you say please and thank you." And I do tell him that I love him several times a day.

Come to think of it, it's easy to be sweet with kids. With them, we dispense the hugs freely and unabashedly. It's with the adults that we seem to have a problem.

I think that most of us grew up with parents who were not very expressive. I may be wrong, but that's what I reckon from the conversations I've had with colleagues and friends.

Like my Chinese producer whose mother always said at mealtimes, "Eat that...it costs P400 per kilo!" She grew up resenting her mom's habit of putting a price on the food that they were served. Until she read Amy Tan's Joy Luck Club and realized that this was her mom's way of saying that she was giving them the very best.

Between my mom and pop, mom is the more reserved. Dad was not the kind to express his feelings with words, but he certainly was affectionate - at least with the girls. It's something that my sis and I have inherited in great amounts. But you can imagine my frustration with mom, who was so careful not to pass judgment on anyone that she even forgot to praise her kids.

No, I don't take it against her; I love my mom totally. Even if she didn't want our heads to grow big with praise, at least she never said anything bad to us. No name-calling, no accusations...ever. Even when I was really out of line.

It's just that after reading Bo's article about praising your kids seven times a day, I figured I ought to do the same with my mom. Heck, you ought to do it with everyone. It's just that it's a bit awkward when you're breaking in an adult onto new habits. But I don't mind. Like I said, I love her to pieces.

23/100

Fecund

I ought to go through that Artist's Way book once again. Sometimes, when I sit down to write a post, I don't know what to say. Weird thing is, it's not for a lack of subject matter. I have hundreds of things in my mind; it's just that not all of them are rated GP.

When I started this blog I did it as a creative outlet since what I write for work is pretty much limited. It was cathartic at first, and I eagerly pounded away whatever so-called deep thoughts or musings I had at the time. I obviously enjoy wearing my heart on my sleeve as far as this parenting thing is concerned.

I still feel good about writing about these singular adventures of mine, but really there is so much that goes on that I'd like to tell but can't or won't - for reasons of privacy, security, or just to stick to my theme.

I remember, when I was painting, how I always said that it takes guts to put yourself - your true self - on the canvas. A lot of us are afraid to be rejected. Same goes for blogging.

So.

Thank God I have a theme. Ha ha!

But going back to the Julia Cameron book, I remember that there were a lot of ideas there that helped get you started on whatever you had to do. It's like I have a to-do list that's unfinished until now. That's kind of how I feel at the moment.

22/100

Beartolucci

(For Sunday, May 21, 2006)

It's late and I'm short by one post. So here's another quickie: Miguel reunited with his teddy bear. It's the most adorable thing, and I upon my suggestion my mom got it for him 4 Christmases ago. So why "reunited?" Well when he was a toddler he kept on getting colds and rashes, so my then pediatrician had me allergy-proof my son's environment.

That meant restricting certain foods, keeping a food diary, removing the bedside curtains, and banishing Beartrolucci and all other stuffed toys. He also took prophylactic antihistamines until age 4.

Thankfully he outgrew the rashes and has adjusted to previously allergenic foods like chicken, egg, and chocolate. Then a few months back he requested for Beartolucci, so here they are, together again.

It was kinda cute last week when Miguel wanted to play cards with me just as I was about to take a shower. I told him to find somebody else to play with first. So he propped Beartolucci on some pillows on his bed, dealt out the cards, and they played a game. I wanted to take a picture but I was busy in the john :)

Well, you should've seen it.

20/100

Tied the knot

(For Saturday, May 20, 2006)

My friend Jayel got hitched last Saturday. Every little detail was planned - the choral music, first marital kiss, photo-ops during the cocktails, video presentations, and table names instead of numbers. He's always been very passionate when it came to his work, and more so when it came to Michal, the love of his life.

Right now they're in honeymoon bliss somewhere in Rome. What can I say, the guy doesn't compromise on his dreams. I really should write more about the wedding some time, but for now let me just say that it was beautiful. I'll just leave you with this snapshot of the flower arrangement at the reception.

19/100

Energy Liger is in the room

I've been moving furniture into Miguel's room over the weekend, and it's starting to take shape. Every now and then I asked Miguel to look at the room and tell me what he thinks. Yesterday he said, "Mommy, the more you move things, the less fun it becomes" - referring to my room. I told him, "Miguel, we're transferring the fun from my room to yours."

So late last night I moved more of his toys to the new room, ever-conscious that I was moving out the "fun." Surveying my more spacious room, I have to half-admit that he was right. The robots and action figures are gone, transplanted to a new shelf in his room. That includes Energy Liger, his most prized Zoid, the one that I positively forbid him to break (although it has sustained a few minor damages.)

So now, instead of toys, some of my favorite framed pictures are now displayed on my buffet table. (I don't know what else to call it; it's the same kind of cabinets-and-drawers set that you'd find in a dining room. I had it custom made just so I can display photos on top of it.)

I do feel a bit sad about that. Didn't I write before that he's such a part of me that sometimes I don't know where he begins and where I end?

But move on we must. I'm just as excited to see him grow up and create his own identity and do things on his own. Like this morning when I told him that I found the perfect place to put his clothes hamper - beside the bathroom door. "No," he said, "I want it here between the 2 cabinets."

He ran back into my room, and came back with his personal clothes hamper, dumping it in the place he assigned for it on the other side of the room. Well, who am I to argue - it is his room after all.

21/100

Darndest things

Check out the sidebar for the Miguelisms :)

3 women

Yesterday while I was crossing the street I saw a woman carrying a baby. She was beautiful. Mature, but beautiful.

Not alta-sociedad or even sosyal beautiful. She didn't even dress rich, so the safest I could say was that she was probably better off than most. She had shoulder-length hair in loose curls and highlights. Her face was beautiful, but aged by wrinkles around the eyes and sagging jowls. She even wore a bit of make-up. But what struck me most was that she was carrying a baby - a girl, probably a year old.

She walked with a purpose and carried the child in a protective way, as if to say, "this is mine and you can't take it away from me." It made me think that she was the mother of the child.

But as she walked towards me and I got to appreciate her age, I noticed the younger woman beside her and to her rear: twenty-ish, fair-skinned, and simply but neatly dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. She was looking down, watching her step as she followed the older woman.

So I thought, maybe I'm looking at three generations of women here: dominant grandma, docile daughter-in-law, and doted-upon grandchild.

In a moment they were past me. Funny how so short a glimpse can give you ideas about other people's lives.

But honestly, there was something in the way that she carried the child.

I love watching people with their kids. You should try it sometime. People can be oblivious of the general public when they're with young children. Much like lovers behave when they're in Paris. Lots of private moments there.

As I like to say, I love the way we love our kids.

18/100

Making space

Well, Miguel's room has been painted and cleaned. Yesterday I left instructions for our household staff to install the curtain rods and move in some of his shelves.

When I entered my room last night, I was amazed - and relieved - to see that it was roomier than before. It's like...Waaaaaah! I can see the wall! I can see the window! It's only now that I realized that my room is so full of furniture (mine and his) that there is absolutely no wall space left.

When your room is so cluttered, your mind gets the same way too. Actually I'll be glad to have my room look like it belongs to an adult again. I'm eager to bring out all those great photos, although I wouldn't mind having a Zoid here and there. I'm making a conscious effort to create some "breathing space" in both our rooms. Looks like I'm in for more housecleaning over the weekend.

17/100

New pages

Pardon me for the non-posts for the past 2 days, but I've been tinkering with some code. HTML is a lot like Wordstar, if you're old enough to remember what that is. You just type a code before and after a command.

Anyway, I've made some additions to my sidebar and selected my favorite posts. Feel free to tell me which ones you liked. And being obssessive-compulsive, I've listed my archives by title. Maybe sometime I can post my old artworks (and hopefully some new ones) on the net. Happy browsing!

Yahoo!

Obviously I have a lot of time on my hands. So take a look at my new Favorites page, courtesy of Yahoo! Geocities. Just be warned that it's a work in progress; as of now it only has 2 selections.

Did it by copying my Blogger template then doing trial and error. Always wanted to understand this HTML stuff.

16/100

Mirror

I've had this picture for a while. It's from graduation day at Gueli's swimming class. When I first saw it I was amazed at how much he looks like me.

What does it do to a parent to have her child look like her? Does it make her love the child more? Love herself more?

Funny thing is that the moment he was born, I thought he looked like his dad. Maybe all these years with just me has made him more like me.

But as early as now, I already tell him, "You are not your mommy. And you are not your daddy. You are Miguel."

Sometimes we make the mistake of thinking we're just like our parents. Well maybe that's not so bad since there are things about them that I admire. But there's some good in knowing that you're different and accepting yourself as so.

Or maybe I'm getting ahead of this identity crisis thing.

15/100

Specs

You could say that Miguel's having a love-hate relationship with his glasses.

Before going to church he wanted to take them off because "no one might recognize me." Then on the road he was amazed that he could see more signs while wearing them. He likes to take them off while eating. But he needs to wear them while watching TV. And then again sometimes he doesn't want to.

I have to remind him to wear them constantly so that he could see better and hopefully have his vision corrected. Like I said before, his grade is higher than mine - but only slightly. Weird thing about my eyes is that one is nearsighted and the other farsighted.

At least, even without my contacts, my right eye can make up for the blurred vision on my left eye. But all I had to do was cover one eye to see how blurred the world appears to Miguel without his glasses.

But what I like most was what he said, unprompted, while we were driving home from church: "Thank you mommy for getting me glasses. Everything looks bigger now."

Honey, I just wish that I had done this sooner.

14/100

Happy Mother's Day!

(For Sunday, May 14, 2006)

I know that it's late but hey it was a hectic day. Not a lot of Filipino families observe this day, but I guess that my family is different.

It was a happy celebration, with complete attendance by the clan. Food lined up was:

5 kinds of chips
2 kinds of dips
baked chicken with cheese and parsley
pork barbecue
noodles from Sun Moon Garden
4 kinds of cake
2 kinds of ice cream
ginataang mais (sweet corn cooked with sticky rice)

I guess that my family's BIG on dessert. Good thing that somebody brought me oranges; that means I still stick to my "diet" :)

13/100

Short but not so sweet

I have this little lump on my left wrist. It's the size of a...hmmm...kernel of corn. It's under the skin and fleshy (like a kernel actually). I think I noticed it first about a week ago while helping Miguel wash his hands.

I remember telling myself then that my wrist bone was protruding unusually. It looked strange but I brushed it off because I was always busy. Now I realize that it looked strange because it seems like I have an extra wrist bone!

Well tonight it looks like it got bigger, so i paid attention to it and realized that it's not a bone but a fleshy lump. I'll show it to my bro tomorrow. No need to panic; just need to pray.

12/100

I hereby resolve

When you're in an Agency and it's time to produce a commercial, you know that you're gonna be well-fed. That's because prouction houses want to make sure that your tummy is kept in a constant state of contentment - or even ecstasy - so that you're not irritable during a shoot and will hopefully approve all the director's takes.

Anyway.

We've been working with a production house whose executive producer is legendary for serving the best desserts in Manila. You never know what he'll offer next: Strawberry Shortcake, Mango Torte, Marshmallow Cake, Turtle Pie. Of course me and my colleagues protest that he's giving us too much, but we always head to the buffet table to pick up a slice - or two. I feel like a calf being fattened for the slaughter.

Well, just yesterday I had way too much to eat at merienda time (afternoon snack). It was so heavy I decided to skip dinner. I went out with Mike in the evening and was amazed that at 10 pm I was still full.

So today we continued the shoot, and at lunch time Gigi comes in. She's our caster who was recently confined in the ICU because she had suffered a mild heart attack. She's probably only in her late thirties. Needless to say, she has a lot of restrictions when it comes to food.

I had already eaten my leche flan (a sugar-laden egg custard) by the time she came in, but then we predictable started talking about her doctor-imposed diet. It turns out that she has diabetes too, and since I saw firsthand how it ruined my dad's health, I gave her an account of the progression of the disease.

I know it was so hard for her to hold back and stick to her diet in the presence of such delicious fare. She started her lunch and the leche flan was right in front of her, waiting to be devoured.

Then I remembered how disgustingly full I felt last night. And how I need to cut down on sugar so I can avoid diabetes.

Then I just said it. "Gigi, why don't you stop eating sweets. I'll even join you. I'll stop eating cake, ice cream, and chocolates." Of course I made Gigi an excuse, but I know that I can do it. Not just for myself but to set an example for Miguel. Diabetes runs in only one side of my family, both sides on his.

Wish me luck :)

11/100

Two hams on a tube

Although I have hundreds of photos of Miguel, I don't have too many with him. That's because I'm always the one behind the camera, right?

Anyway I asked yaya to snap this picture last week while Miguel and I were swimming. I was lounging in the inflatable while we were shooting at each each other with water pistols, then he got the bright idea of joining in. Well, I'm glad he thought of it...because I don't think I'd allow him to do that at age 8 :)

10/100

Can somebody please tell me what's going on?

Here's another "strange" photo for our archives. Sort of in the spirit of Hit the monkey.

By the way, this picture was taken around early April, before we started cleaning up his room.

9/100

Stonehenge addendum

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention Miguel's theory on how the monument was built:

"Stonehenge is a giant's building blocks that he forgot to pack away."

We must alert the archeologists and anthropologists at once :D

Hocus focus

So here's the lowdown on Miguel's eye check-up.

After spending close to 4 hours at the American Eye Center, the verdict is this: my little boy has astigmatism, with a grade of -2.50 for both eyes. I was shocked to find out the numbers - turns out his grade is higher than mine. Without my contacts I'd consider myself severely visually impaired; what more him!

The good news is that it might be corrected, since his eyes are still being developed. I just hope that it turns out that way.

The reason the session took so long was because we were checked up by 2 optometrists and 1 opthalmologist. They made us sit on several machines, plus we got a manual refraction. I told Miguel that he still looked cute even with the funny-looking glasses. He was extremely well-behaved in the opthalmologist's examination room, very polite and proper. A proud moment for the mommy.

In between sessions with the optometrist and opthalmologist we looked at a few optical shops to pick out some frames for him. I used to be afraid that he might not want to wear glasses, but I think that wearing those funny glasses made him realize that he really needs his own pair. He quickly grew attached to a blue pair (again, I told him that he cannot have a red one) and I'll be picking it up after 3 days.

So hopefully, now he won't have to go near the TV, or hold a book so close to his face, or lean directly over his workbook when he does an assignment. For him, the world will suddenly be bigger and brighter. Or should I say clearer.

I should know.

8/100

Tom Yum

Today I finally opened one of my "goodies" from Bangkok - a cup of ready-to-eat Tom Yum Goong. When I arrived there, one of the first things I did was head for the grocery. I wanted to buy food that I can find only in Thailand, like Frito Lay potato chips in exotic flavors such as Nori Seaweed and Grilled Lobster. Another item was a pack of Tom Yum Goong since I like that dish so much.

Well, sad to say that the cup of instant soup was a disappointment. It was Tom Yum, but as with anything ready-to-eat, the quality suffers considerably. It was nothing compared to the one I had in Siam Paragon.

It was past lunch time on our second day and I was exploring some malls on my own. Being so late, I really wanted to get a bite, and the Siam Paragon food court got good reviews since the mall was only 5 months old.

Turns out the place is a bit high-end, but since I was so hungry (deja vu?) I didn't care about the price. The outlet I went to is like the former Streetlife in Glorietta. Enter, get a card, have it swiped as you order food, and pay as you leave.

Seeing a mouth-watering picture of Tom Yum, I ordered it right away. Only when the dish was served at my table did I realize: Oh, shucks, I'm not in Manila! I saw all the crushed chilis swimming on the surface and realized that I should have asked them to hold back on the spice.

Anyway, since I was in a nice place and they were charging me 3 times what I'd normally pay for a meal, I decided to eat Tom Yum just the way the Thais do: in all it's hot, spicy, mouth-burning, inflaming glory.

I could swear that my mouth was on fire. And now I also know why animators show how spicy a food is by making smoke come out of your ears: while I was eating it I could feel my ear wax melting!

I must say though that it was delicious. At least now I can say that I've had authentic Thai Tom Yum Goong.

7/100

Neuro

Yes, I think I'm getting neurotic. Less than a month to go before Migueli enters big school. I've already arranged for a school bus service. I've bought the uniforms and am having the pants altered. I've wrapped the textbooks in plastic cover.

I even scheduled a visit to the opthalmologist 'cause I suspect he might need glasses. I just need to label a few things, buy undershirts, socks, P.E. shoes, and a school bag.

Good grief! I even read through the student handbook (certified nerd here) and found out that a "jug" is not necessarily a container for liquid.

I tell you I'm really getting neurotic right now.

And I still have to finalize the plans for his birthday next month.

6/100

Stonehenge

Last night Miguel and I had a conversation about Stonehenge, again. He wants to go there. He wants to go to Stonehenge at 1 am during the summer solstice so he can wait for the sun to go up and see it "go on top of his head."

Turns out my mom's been reading those coffee-table books to him at bedtime while I was out of town. God bless her, she's such high-brow grandma :)

Now as a goal, that isn't such a bad thing. I haven't been to Stonehenge myself, but now that he mentions it, I'd like to go too. I told him that we'd have to find a way to go.

Weird thing is, I just had lunch with my colleague Jayel last Thursday. Though he sits only 10 feet away from me, we haven't had lunch together for several months. I asked him where he and Michal were going for their honeymoon after the May 20 wedding. He said that they're going to Rome, London, then Paris. I asked him what he planned to see in London, and he mentioned that he wanted to see Stonehenge - an hour's ride away, he says.

This synchronicity thing is just too uncanny. I really think we've got to find a way to get there.

5/100

Favorite foods

I think that I know my son so well. We had this conversation yesterday at the breakfast table, about what his perfect meal is:

Me: I know what your perfect meal is.
Miguel: What?
Me, grinning: Tilapia with rice, churros con chocolate, and strawberry shake.
Miguel: Wrong! My perfect meal is spider, and cockroach, and dirt, and french fries, and grapes with ketchup!

Yuck! Now who would eat grapes with ketchup?

Right now my favorite food is tom yum goong (a longtime favorite), iced lemonade and mangoes for dessert. Mmmmm!

Oh and for the record, Miguel corrected me and said that his favorite meal is chicken and rice, french fries with ketchup, iced tea, and strawberry shake. And which toy would you like with that?

4/100

Makeover

Gueli's room is now taking form! It's not going to be an expensive project, but my mom already had the paint job started.

It was such a pleasant surprise to come home from Bangkok and see the walls in transition. The ceiling's almost done, and this morning mom and I finalized the color for the walls. Miguel's favorite color is red, but I told him that red walls are out of the question. He didn't seem to mind.

We'll have the bathroom ceiling and walls repainted too to match his room. Good thing because it's overdue for a facelift.

The anticipation is still there but at this point I'm just glad that it's getting done. Since I don't have much to spend I'll just be doing little changes as the weeks go along. Maybe it'll be like my uncle's house that took 10 years to complete :) I guess that we'll just improve as we go along.

3/100

Morning pages

There's this book called "The Artist's Way," by Julia Cameron. I came across it in 2001 when I took a workshop under Jim Paredes about "releasing the artist within" or "unblocking your writer's block." Something like that. It was one of those groundbreaking workshops, the kind that you never forget. He pours himself into the sessions, and the if you give as well, the more you get back. Lots of memorable stuff happens there, if you allow it. I'd recommend it to anyone even if they're not artists.

Anyway, Jim's modules were based on the Cameron book, and the exercises were very good, challenging you to try something new. The most basic exercise is the morning pages. With apologies to Julia Cameron, it goes something like this: every morning, the moment you wake up and when your mind is still foggy, you grab a pen and a notebook and write. Doesn't matter if garbage comes out; all that matters is that you're producing creative output. The theory, I think, is that quantity is better than quality.

There might be an argument for that, because at least if you push yourself to write everyday, you're bound to come up with a gem sooner or later. And then, you know what they say: practice makes perfect. Same thing holds true for painting. Well, like I say, you really aren't a painter unless you're painting. So I guess you really aren't a writer unless....

Anyway, Pinoy Big Cousin's one-hundred day challenge is something that I could simply consider as morning pages. I think that the longest period that I wrote my morning pages was for 3 months. But I know a director who's been doing it for about 2 years. He even showed me his notebook; he brings it around all the time.

Funny, we're working on a project right now and just yesterday he asked me what my blog address is.

Another thing about doing Jim's workshop back then: when you're in touch with your inner artist, the universe seems to align and a lot of synchronicity happens. Maybe that's why I'm writing now. Maybe that's why he asked. :)

2/100

Shopping and suds

Just got back from the company outing last Sunday. It was a fun, tiring 4-day, 3-night shopping spree. Now this is my kind of clothing allowance: pack up all the employees to Bangkok and give them money to burn. On our first evening, right after our dinner-cruise, people were already itching to hit the Suan Lum night market. Others went to Patphong for the "educational show." I, however, and a few others opted to go back to the hotel. My roommate was out shopping so I had the room to myself for a few hours.

Nice bubble bath waited for me there. Tie up the hair, run the faucet with almost scalding water, pour in the bubble juice, then lie down and soak. Could've used some candles and mood music, but I make do with what I have - selective lighting and the television tuned to the movie channel. That's what I call the art of doing nothing.

When I laid back in the tub and stretched my hands over my head, I heard the strange but familiar sound of bubbles popping around my ears. That's when it hit me: it's been years since I've heard that sound. Then I recalled that the last time I had a proper bubble bath was seven years ago, in Bangkok too.


My memories of that first trip aren't so good. I was travelling with a group of artists called the "Saturday Group" and on our last evening my colleagues had a falling out. What started out as cordial drinking in one of the hotel rooms turned into a public display of dirty laundry. Sigh.

Also, the last time I was in Bangkok I had just discovered I was pregnant, and nobody but my (then) boyfriend knew at the time. It was difficult walking the unfamiliar streets looking for a good place to eat (I was so hungry!) when all the signs and menus were written in Sanskrit.

Well, glad to say that this time out I had a fabulous time. For starters, our hotel (Arnoma on Rajdamri Road) was located right in the heart of the city. Right beside it were a money changer, a mall with a big grocery (Big C) that closed at 11pm, and a really cheap but delicious food court. And all around were middle- and high-end malls.

It was also my first visit to Chatuchak weekend market. As my friend said, "hindi susuko ang Chatuchak - ikaw ang susuko!" (In English, you're going to surrender - due to the sheer size of it.) I was told that it was over one hectare in size, and honey I believe it!

Prices are absurdly cheap when you compare them to Manila's, but then you have to be good at haggling while overcoming the language barrier. By 2pm I decided that I was done with shopping. But since I agreed to meet up with my friend at 3, I ended up spending all my cash by 2:30. I just had enough for the taxi ride back to the hotel in case she didn't show up (to split the cost).

Good thing I left the rest of my moolah in the hotel ;)

So now my attitude towards Manila's tiangges (bazaars) have changed. Just yesterday I was in Greenhills with Miguel trying to pick out a red backpack. When the salesgirl told me the price of the bag that he wanted, I had to qualms about insisting on a really low price. In the end we settled at less than 2/3 the cost.

So you see, travelling really is a learning experience.

1/100

Starstruck

I couldn't help it. I'm not a fan, but when the opportunity presented itself, I just had to get a solo photo with him.
Reminds me of that Sprite campaign magpatotoo ka! (get real) Yep, that was me :)

It was his idea

Thank God my son loves taking baths. Although he sometimes protests when I announce that it's time for him to hit the shower, 99% of the time he takes his sweet time because he's too busy playing.

One of his favorite "games" is making funny hairstyles, and yesterday he coudn't wait to show me how high his hair can go. Hmm, looks like he's overdue for a haircut.

Now tell me, didn't you use to do that when you were a kid?

I really hope that he doesn't mind that I posted this, when he's all grown up.

And by the way, I really feel so much pressure to post regularly, now that I know that mama aly is checking out my blog every day. Sort of like a Pinoy Big Cousin :)

Oh yeah. Notice the sliver of soap meticulously attached to the bigger bar of soap ;D

Doodlisquat

Another quickie post.

After 18 years, Doodle is back in Manila! With hubby and 2 kids in tow no less. After the hellos, the realizations set in:


Doodle, to me: When did Gai get so wild?
Gai, to me: When did Doodle get so mature?

Well, wild or mature, they're my 2 best-est friends. I had no qualms about spending last Sunday with Doodle's entire family. Actually, I've considered myself a part of her family ever since I visited them in Orlando in '91. The picture shows her with her 3-year-old Colin and Miguel during a quick lunch out.

Tinkle winkle

So here's Miguel after his piano recital last week with Teacher Ems. Notice the nice trophy and the big smile.

All the recitalists received simple, card-sized, glass-etched trophies. Except for my son and 3 others whose glass trophies broke. ERGO, teacher had to replace theirs with bigger ones. Compared to the other trophies, it looks as if my son won the Metropop.


He was so excited about it, he said, "I want to keep playing piano until I have 10 trophies!"

We're definitely signing up for this summer.

Hair-raising

As requested by mama_aly, here is a new, albeit quickie post. Miguel's hair has a way of standing up every morning. Our private joke is that his hair stands up long before he does. I hope that years from now he won't mind that I posted this.

Yes, yes...I feel bad too about not posting since February; I haven't missed a month since I started this blog almost 2 years ago. And I have so many anecdotes saved up, big and small. I guess the trick is to post right away so you don't forget or get lazy. More to come, even if they're antedated.

By the way, I'm now using a MacMini so some blogger features - such as font color - are not available. Nevertheless, I love my Mac! :)

May 3, 2006: Font color solved