Health hazard

"24" is hazardous to my health.

It's so addicting that I stay up way past my bedtime... I forego going to the bathroom even if my bladder is about to burst...I forget to drink water...and I'd most likely forget to taker my meals if Eric were not around.

It's fast-paced, well written, and Jack Bauer is so...astig...that he has replaced Jack Bristow (of Alias) as my new "Sexiest Spy Dad Ever."

I've also gotten to thinking...

Why can't Pinoy writers come up with shows as innovative as those in the US? All we have are slapstick sitcoms or rip-offs from Mexican soaps. I heard before that there were plans to make a political drama revolving around a fictitious Philippine President but it seems it never saw film. Sure, it's a West Wing rip-off, but it would still be nice to see how it turns out.

Bluetooth bashing

Call me shallow, but I have a pet peeve against people who walk around everywhere with a mobile phone bluetooth headset attached to their ear.

I think it's pretentious, ostentatious, and screams "Look at me! I'm a busy and important person!!"

Because come on, the only reason you need a handsfree unit is if you're fielding a hundred calls an hour but your hands are occupied. Like when you're driving. Or typing a report that's due way past the deadline. Or assembling a nuclear bomb.

Otherwise, if you're just eating at a restaurant...or walking around the mall -- why don't you just use your frickin' hands?

Fave pic of the week

Yes, he's inside a laundry hamper.

I wonder if he'll take this against me when he grows up?

Coupling

Just realized that Eric and I don't have friends whose friendship we cultivated together, as a couple.

I mean, right now, our circle of friends can be technically classified into two: "his" and "mine." No friend belongs to "us." Gets?

I guess these are the kind of friendships you cultivate when you take certain classes or activities along with other people, like going abroad and joining a tour group.

We met some nice folks during our honeymoon, but the tours were on a per city basis, not for the whole duration of the package, so we only got to see the same people for a couple of days or so, and then it's new company again.

And the only class we took was my Lamaze class, but we never really got past the "hi, when are you due?" stage of the relationship.

Moral of the story: I think Eric and I need to get out more often. When is the Milo Marathon again?

As if.

Doctor, doctor

I have yet to meet a doctor who shows up at his clinic on time.

Except for my OB-Gyne... but then she charges a LOT for consultation, so it's a fair trade.

Other doctors seem to have a habit of showing up --on average-- an hour past their scheduled clinic times. I could understand if they were coming from another clinic in another hospital, but if their schedule is the first for the day, then I expect them to be there on the dot. Stat.

I wonder if it's a doctor thing? Or a Filipino thing? Or a Filipino doctor thing?

Hooked what?

Facebook, the way-better-than-Friendster-social-networking-site has this cool function where you can indicate how you know the person who is in your list of friends.

Choices include "Lived together," "Worked together," "Went to the same school," "In my family," etc. Your "friend" has to approve what relationship you indicated though, which is a good thing given what I just experienced:

When I invited a colleague from my former workplace to add to my list of friends... and he accepted.. I assumed we would indicate that we were just that -- "we worked together."

So imagine my surprise when a few days later, I saw that he put down the following for my approval:

"We worked together." Check.

"We travelled together." Check.

"We hooked up." WTF??!!

Isn't "hooking up" similar to dating? Or going out in some more-than-friends kind of way? I'm a bit bothered , because nothing could be further from the truth. And a part of me is worried that that's what he's been telling other former work colleagues -- that we hooked up, presumably while we were travelling.

But thank God I have airtight proof that we did not hook up whatsoever -- my mom was with us the entire time. Looks like chaperoning does have its good reasons after all.

Or maybe by "hooked up," he just meant we clicked?

Paging Dr. Ross

I am seriously, Seriously, SERIOUSLY in love with George Clooney.

So what if the guy is a commitment-phobe? At least he's honest about it. Plus he's talented -- actor, director, and screenwriter. And he has a conscience -- just look at what he's been doing to raise awareness for the situation in Sudan. And, bottomline -- he is just so good-looking.

But you just have to watch him in ER to see why he's so lovable. There's this part where his character, Doug Ross, is asking the love of his life, Nurse Carol Hathaway, if she's already off-duty.

Carol says she has to do a couple of more things, and Ross just leans in and whispers "I'll wait" and smiles.

And it's not an "I'll wait because I'm getting good sex from you later on" or an "I'll wait because I have nothing better to do anyway." The way he says it, you just know that he'll wait because he wants to have dinner with her, or take her home...or just be with her for an extra longer time.

"I'll wait." Two simple words, but because it was Geroege Clooney saying it -- and smiling to boot!, that scene became one of the most romantic scenes I've ever seen in my life.

Sigh.

Pacquiao again?

I know this is going to sound unpatriotic, but I was disappointed when Manny Pacquiao won again.

Because yes, I was rooting for him to fail.

Because the guy needs to have his ego deflated; or at the very least, he needs to see that most of the people around him are social-climbing, money-grabbing, self-promoters.

And to be honest, I don't know why it's only Pacquiao gets all the huge accolades -- what about Efren Bata Reyes? Paeng Nepomuceno? Or those wushu athletes who win gold medals in competitions all over the world?

Eric keeps telling me it's all about charisma, that for some reason, Pacquiao clicks with the masses.

And that, my friends, explains everything that's screwed up with this country.

All together now...

Awww...

Enlighten me

I haven't been around kids in a long time, so I don't know if what just happened yesterday is normal... or if I'm being overly old-fashioned...

See, we took Justin to a friend's house yesterday afternoon, and there were other kids there, with ages ranging from 1.2 years old to around 4 years old.

Justin's godparents were there, and sweet spoilers that they are, they had a no-occasion present for Justin. But just when his ninang brought the stuffed pic out, this kid suddenly comes up from (I swear) out of nowhere and gets the toy from her.

To be fair, he didn't snatch it... but he stretched his arm up, got it, and left. It was like he had a homing beacon that alerted him to "Oh!!! New toy!!!" and he zoomed right over. Oh-kayyy.... No harm done. This kid was probably 2 or 3 years old.

So anyway, later on, we finally got Justin settled down on the sofa, and we brought out his own toys for him to play with. Again, all of sudden, another kid comes over, and without saying anything takes one of the toys -- and puts it in his mouth! (It was a small plastic cube, so very bite-able.)

To be fair, he gave Justin the little plastic basketball he was holding. Like it's sharing. But really, did he have to put it in his mouth?

And yes, as Eric kept telling me, the kid was just 1.2 years old, it's not as if he could've asked permission to borrow the toy. But where was the mom? Or the yaya? And did he have to put the damn cube into his mouth??

Anyway, we got both toys back at the end of the day... but still...

So is this how kids are these days? I mean, they just take things without even asking permission first? Or without even showing some hesitancy/shyness first? Or is this how "sharing" is done now?

I'm not upset...not really....just baffled...

It's a girl thing

No matter how fat and ugly you feel, there's nothing like a good mani-pedi to make you feel pretty again.

Even if it's just for half a day.

Random list of 10 things I did today...

...that do not directly involve Justin, because yes, I'm more than just a mom.

P.S. Thanks to Anndee for this idea!

1. Gave a neighbor mooncake.

2. Read June 2007 issue of Smart Parenting (the one with Claudine Barretto on the cover).

3. Took a bath this morning (because I got home late last night).

4. Sorted out my bills.

5. Spoke to Skycable repairmen.

6. Emailed my former boss to congratulate her on her pregnancy.

7. Scanned my cellphone phone book, Friendster account, and email address book to see if I still have any single and eligible guy friends whom I can hook a girl friend up with.

8. Charged Eric's handycam.

9. Added new furniture (tables!) to our second floor hallway.

10. Wondered if a certain man I've been emailing is flirting with me... or if he's just trying (too hard) to be charming.

Orgasmic

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.

That's all Eric and I can say after...


...we bite into our newest dessert discovery, Frozen Brazo de Mercedes.

The graham crust is thick, the french vanilla filling even thicker, and the egg white topping positively melts in your mouth.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.

It's made by a resident of our village -- let me know if you want to place an order so thatr I can send you the contact details. P550 only for 9 x 9 inches of pure bliss.

Or come over and we can have a dessert orgy.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.

Pic courtesy of Rants and Raves.

Confessions of a neurotic mom

Sometimes I think Justin doesn't like me...

I mean, not as much as he likes Eric. Or his yaya.

Everytime he sees either one of them, he squeals and grins and flaps his arms excitedly.

And when he sees he... he just looks at me. Okay, so sometimes he smiles.

Maybe it's because he doesn't see Eric that often -- after all, he's in the office most of the day.

And he sees me more than he sees his yaya.

So maybe I should go back to work....

If only to make my son like me more..?

It's the stupidest thing I've ever heard of, I know.

But it still depresses me.

I'm so spoiled

Because right now, I'm thinking how in the world people twenty years ago got any work done at all, given that there were no Internet, e-mail, or sms back then.

*Hic*

I've never experienced what it's like to be drunk.

As in puking-your-guts-out, don't-know-what-came-over-me, massive-hangover-the-next-morning kind of drunk.

I know it's not something to aspire for, but there's an allure in being totally out of control even for just one night (and having an "excuse" for it.)

Future education

Eric knows that the best way to get me riled up is to say something anti-UP... and shower praises at a certain other university he knows I don't think highly of.

Like the time we passed by Tandang Sora during the weekend of the UP Entrance exams last August and I expressed surprised that traffic wasn't as bad as it was in the past few years.

I figured it was early, that the examinees hadn't finished yet, but Eric gleefully goes, "Walang traffic kasi wala ng may gustong mag-aral sa UP. Lahat sila gusto na dun sa [insert name of other university]."

Since I know he was being deliberately annoying, I let it slide. As well as all the other times he pokes fun / disparages / insults my alma mater.

So now I don't know what to do when he tells me yesterday that he is 75% certain that he does not want Justin to go to UP for college.

Instead, he wants him to go that other university.

Do I let it slide and take it up again after 18 years?

Or do I spend the next 18 years convincing Justin that UP (and only UP) is the place to be here in the country?

Or do I just hope that he gets into Harvard, Cambridge, or even Beijing University?

God, what am I thinking.. I can't even convince Eric to enroll Justin in Gymboree!

Pissed

Technically, this happened last week... which just goes to show that yes, I can (and do!) carry a grudge, even though the most I'll do is rant about it to Eric, friends, and everyone else but the person concerned...

It's September, meaning the season of pwa tiong chiu (aka the dice game played during the Mooncake Festival) is just around the corner. One of Eric's friends won last year, so it's up to him to shop for prizes this year.

While I love shopping as much as the next person, it's no piece of cake to shop for pwa tiong chiu prizes... You're talking about items that have to be varied yet universal in appeal, since the contestants are a mix of men and women, adults and kids, married and single. Plus when you're shopping on a budget, well, that's even harder. Basically, it's something you need time, energy, and serious concentration for.

Which is why it irked the hell out of me when one of Eric's other friends said that I should be the one to do the shopping this year, since, in his words, "nasa bahay lang naman ako at walang ginagawa."

F*ck him. Let's see him try and take care of a baby.

Txt spik

Call me old-fashioned, but I'm the type who likes to type sms with the words all spelled out. Yes, occasionally, I abbreviate -- "you" to "u," "tomorrow" to "tom," and even the days of the week -- but that's only when my message threatens to exceed one page. But I consider these abbreviations still falling within the confines of proper English or Tagalog grammar.

Other texters, however, seem to be getting out of hand.

There's that ubiquitous peeve of mine-- "me," which people use in place of "ako." As in "Dito na me." "Kain na me." Argh.

And then there are those abbreviations which I thought I already got the hang of, but seem to continuously evolve into the incomprehensible, not to mention ridiculous.

Examples:

"Sige" used to be "cge." Now it's "geh."

"Anyway" used to be "nyway." A few days ago, I received a message that had "nwe," and I had to spend a few seconds reading the entire message over and over again before I understood what it stood for. I kept pronouncing it as "now-eh."

"Kasi" --> "kc" --> "xe."

"Ako" --> "me" --> "aq."

"Siya" --> "sya" --> "sia."

The "sia" I find particularly annoying. It's just one friggin' letter changed; why even bother? Is it because the "y" keypad is further than the "i"?!

What's even doubly annoying is if people type these shortcuts even though the message is only a few words long. "Geh, alis n aq. Tnx." Exactly what do these people do with the few precious seconds they save by not typing the whole thing?

Never late is better

I hate it when I'm running late for an appointment. I get so frazzled I drop things, I forget things, or, worse, I trip/stub my toe/hit my elbow against furniture in my rush.

When I'm late, I feel that the universe is conspiring to punish me.

Things in my bag seem harder to find when I'm in a rush, like car keys or the cellphone.

Jeepney and tricycle drivers stop more, traffic lights switch from green to red in seconds, and vacant parking spaces become scarce.

Or maybe that's just me.

I also hate people who are late for appointments with me, but that's another story.

Musings of a semi-working mom

I'm back at work, at least on a temporary basis. The project is just for this month but will culminate in me giving a very chi-chi presentation that as early as now has me frantically brushing up on my Power Point skills. It involves interviewing about 30 or so entrepreneurs, which equals zipping around 30 different places in as short time as possible.

It's great and exhilirating, like slipping into an old, comfy pair of shoes I had forgotten I owned. All of a sudden, I now have more to talk about with Eric, instead of just what Justin did for the day or what tsismis I was able to surf over at the Philippine Entertainment Portal.

Plus I'm starstruck at meeting all these talented, smart, passionate (and sometimes cute) businessmen and women; I feel privileged to be given the opportunity to learn from them and let the rest of the country know about them as well.

But do I want to permanently back to work?

Surprisingly, my answer is "no." Months ago, I missed work so much that I was bordering on depression. But now I think I've actually come to terms that no matter how much I miss it, I know I will miss Justin more if I go back. It's really one or the other.

Besides, while this project reminds me of the things I miss at work, it also brings back memories of the things I didn't like about it.

Right now, albeit temporarily, I'm enjoying the best of both worlds (work and motherhood), and I know that there'll be more to come.

So right now, I'm happy. I feel good about myself. And to be honest, I haven't felt this way in a long time.

On friends

I hate people who, after just meeting someone for a couple of times, immediately tell people that "Oh, yeah, he/she's my friend."

When people ask, I say "Yeah, I know him/her."

I wouldn't exactly call him a friend, because to be friends with each other means that the two of you share a deeper connection than just being, say, classmates at a birthing class.

Which brings me to the topic of second-degree friends... also known as friends of friends. For example, in my case, my second-degree friends are Eric's barkada, and their respective girlfriends/boyfriends.

I've known some of them for as long as I've known Eric (six years) and there was a time that I got together with them more often than my own friends.

But I still can't call all of them "friends" in the truest sense of the word.

Maybe it's because everytime we meet, the conversations are pretty similar -- "How's work?" "Have you watched this latest movie?" "What do you think of Kris Aquino's latest scandal?" "Did you hear what happened to one-of-Eric's-first-degree-friends?"

Don't get me wrong, sometimes we talk about other stuff: like another second-degree friend gave birth, so we talk a bit about parenting and baby-stuff. Another is taking up her MA, so we talk about that too.

But for the life of me, I can't talk to them the way I talk to my first degree friends. Wherein we can talk for hours. About anything. And everything. And sometimes it's not even about things we have in common or shared experiences. It can shift from the latest Harry Potter to the lovelife of a sibling (tsismosa namin, 'no?) We talk about our goals, wants, and aspirations; as well as our crushes, awful bad dates, and best books read.

For example:

With first degree friends, a conversation about Ruffa Gutierrez and Yilmaz Bektas can shift into a conversation about our types of guys, and then shift to reminisces about awful dates, and then shift to why Turkey isn't such a bad place to go to.

With second-degree friends, we talk about Ruffa and Yilmaz, period.

With my first degree friends, I laugh till my stomach hurts.

With second degree friends, I sometimes find my mouth hurting from too much forced smiles.

It's not to say they're bad people; if any of them asked me for a favor, I'd be glad to help, just as I know that they're a text away if I need something I know they're good at. They visited me when I gave birth and I text them during their birthdays. But they're not the people I text when I want to rant about an annoying contestant in Deal or No Deal; and I don't think about them if I want to try out a new restaurant.

So the questions is, do I still consider them friends? Or should I just say "Yeah, I know him/her?"

Defensive ba?

I was paying for a purchase at a clothes store early this afternoon when the saleslady asked, "Ay, ma'am, may anak na kayo?"

Keeping my panic (and vanity) in check, I replied, "Oo. Bakit, halata ba?"

"Hindi ma'am, nakita ko yung picture ninyo ng baby sa wallet niyo."

Ahh.

Whew.

One thousand one, one thousand two...

Life is made up of what I call "deep breath moments" -- you know, the kind when someone says or does something annoying but it's not worth it to confront him/her, so you just take slow, deep breaths and count from one to ten to calm down.

Like when a college student tells me that her school (hint: it's along Taft Avenue) is"the number one university in the country."

Or when someone who has never ever raised a child in his/her whole life deigns to tell me how to take care of mine.

Or when some Ateneans pronounce their school as "Arrh-neo" (I still can't understand where that pronounciation came from) or introduce themselves as graduates of "the Ateneo de Manila University," with major stress on the "the."

Or when a graduate of a certain Chinese school in Binondo tells me that his Fookien-speaking skills are better than mine -- without even hearing me converse in the first place.

Actually, that last bit is probably more of a "F*ck you" moment, but we can talk about those next time.

A freaking good read

My favorite sections in bookstores are General Fiction and Biographies. Once in awhile, I venture to History/World Affairs. But very rarely do I go to the Business section, because frankly, everything screams "Intimidating!!" to me.

But I bought Freakonomics because I read somewhere long ago that it was a good read, plus the first few pages that I browsed from the open copy got me hooked. It also helped that it was only around P300+, pretty cheap for a book if you ask me (tapos may less 10% pa ako, hehehe).

I finished it in two days and must say that it has forever changed my views about economics...and economists.

Freakonomics isn’t a book about economic news and theories, but an attempt by a hip young economist to answer certain “freakish questions” using very basic, very understandable economic formula.

Some of these freakish questions:

1) What do sumo wrestlers and schoolteachers have in common?
2) Which is more dangerous, a gun or a swimming pool?
3) If drug dealers make so much money, why do they still live with their parents?

The answers:

1) They both cheat to win.
2) A swimming pool! A kid has a 1 in 11,000 chance dying in a house with a pool, versus 1 in 1 million-plus in a house with a gun.
3) Only the top guys get rich from the drug trade. Once the profits are split, the pushers on the street make lower than the minimum wage!

It’s not always this whimsical though. One of Levitt’s more controversial theories is his claim that there was a drop in the crime rate of the United States in the 1990s because—get this—of Roe vs. Wade, the 1970s court case that paved the way for abortion to be legalized throughout the US. Levitt’s reasoning—Women who considered abortion are those who think/know/believe they will be unable to raise their child well; if these children had been born, they would have grown up in an unsuitable environment and most likely ended up leading lives of crime. Thanks to Roe vs. Wade, these children—who would’ve been at crime-capable age by the 1990s—no longer exist. From a moral point of view, it’s quite disturbing, but you have to give Levitt credit for thinking out of the box (and having data to back it up). There’s also his theory that the Ku Klux Klan (an American white supremacist group) and real estate agents have something in common, but that’s not so disturbing (unless you’re a real estate agent).

Overall, it’s a very easy book to read, at times funny, many times making me go “Why didn’t I see it that way!” Everything is in layman’s terms, there is no jargon whatsoever, and there are hardly any charts or graphs; the only methods of illustration are tables which are no more than 2 columns wide. It’s perfect if you want a different way of looking at the world.

Best pasalubong ever

Okay, so Eric didn't get to buy a Hedwig doll.

Which is okay because he got me something better, and I say this is the best pasalubong ever because (1) it was something I didn't think I need but which I do pala, and (2) it was a totally unexpected gift, and pleasantly unexpected gestures are always the most appreciated.


Ta-dah!

It's a portable reading light! I just clip it on my book and voila! Instant handy reading pleasure.

See, at night I used to rely on my bedside lamp, but the glare bothers Justin so I'm forced to sit at an awkward angle so that my book shields the glow. But with the Booklite, not only do I no longer have to worry about the glare, I can even read while lying on my stomach (a preferred position when I'm feeling sleepy but still super engrossed).

And yes, I'm already daydreaming about how this Booklite would be perfect on my next overnight plane trip... now I can read to my heart's content and not have to suffer a headache from the yellowish glare of the plane's reading lights.

I just hope the replacement batteries aren't expensive. At the rate I'm using this baby, I might need to change them pretty soon.

Anti-climax: HP review

So now that I’ve finished the book, what do I have to say?

What I love:

• Finally! Voldemort shines! I know, I know, he’s evil, but here, he’s impressively evil. His role in the six books were merely “supporting;” here in Book 7, we finally understand why everyone in the wizarding world was afraid of him.

• Great fight scenes. And there are lots of them. I can’t wait to see how the major ones will look on the big screen once the film version is made. I especially look forward to The Battle of Hogwarts; in relation, it was nice to see the professors do something more drastic than hand out detentions.

• The cameo appearances of familiar faces. Viktor Krum makes an appearance! So does Cho Chang, the other members of Dumbledore’s Army, and Dobby the house-elf. And, yeah, so does Dolores Umbridge, but don’t worry, you’ll love what happens to her.

• Snape’s redemption. I didn’t know which made me go “Oh my God” louder—when I read the chapter devoted to Snape’s memories, or when Hedwig dies. And speaking of characters dying…

• Deaths that hit the spot. I was so caught up in trying to predict who between Harry or Voldemort would die that I forgot that there were other characters (good guys) who could possibly die as well. Quite a few of them did, and to be honest, they were those whom I least expected. Which I guess was why the deaths were all the more jarring. Again, I hope the movie does these death scenes justice.

My gripes:

• A dragging middle. I think there were too much pages devoted to Harry & Co.’s stay at Grimmauld Place and their camping all over England.

• Dumbledore’s life. The idea that he had a sketchy past seemed to have come out of nowhere. I wish there had been hints about it in the previous six books; it’s kind of off to think that he was this great, benevolent wizard for the first six books and then get sprung a new notion right out of nowhere.

• Bitin epilogue. I wanted to see more of what happened to the other characters, like Luna, the rest of the Weasley family, even the Dursleys. But, hmm, don’t you think the ending left room open for a Harry Potter 8?... Now that would be cool!

Potter mania

Yes, I am one of those people -- according to an Internet blogger -- "whose lives this week revolve around an effing boy."

How obsessed/excited am I? Let's see...

I've started reading all the Harry Potter books , from Sorcerer's Stone to Half-Blood Prince. Just reviewing, so that when I come across a name or a term on Book 7, I won't have to go back to find out what it refers to.

And at night, just to distract me from the suspense, I've been watching all the movies. I have yet to watch Order of the Phoenix on film but I can wait for the DVD.

Eric's in Hong Kong right now and I've asked him to go to Toys 'R Us and see if they have a stuffed Hedwig toy. I tell him it's for Justin but, well, we both know I'll be the one thrilled when he does bring it home.

My dear brother, who will be picking up my reserved copy tomorrow, can count on me texting him every 30 minutes to find out if he has gotten it and if he's on his way over.

Nobody bother me tomorrow... or on Sunday, okay?

Stage mom

I know it's rude to point and stare but when you're pointing and staring at my son and the words "Ay, ang cute," come out of your mouth, then by all means go ahead.

La yummy vita!

I read Food of Love in one sitting and when I finally (regretfully) finished, I wanted to do one of two things:

1) Move to Italy
2) Marry a chef

The synopsis:

Experiencing the sensual pleasures of Rome for the first time, student Laura Patterson decides she wants to go out with a chef. So when she meets handsome Tommaso Massi, who tells her that he works at the best restaurant in Rome, she's bowled over by the fantastic dishes he cooks her. But Tomasso has a secret - the real chef is actually his best friend, they very shy Bruno. And Bruno has a secret too - he’s fallen head over heels in love with Laura himself…

So begins a delicious comedy of errors, a romance as light and dazzling as one of Bruno’s own chocolate desserts, in which Laura has to choose between beauty and passion, Bruno has to decide between friendship and love, and Tommaso realises he’s bitten off more than he can
chew.

In the midst of the love story are descriptions of recipes that will make your mouth water, even if most of the terms are in Italian, and some of the ingredients seem kinda gross--baby hares??? Ox intestines??? But when you read about the kinds of sauces they're simmered in, or how they smell once you add garlic or basil or whatever herb--

Heck, now that I think about it, forget about my two options earlier....I want to marry an Italian chef!

Available at Fully Booked

A rockin' imagination

Those who read Eric's comment on the "Mirror, Mirror..." post will remember that he mentioned something about a rocking chair. Here's the story.

When I got pregnant, we bought a rattan rocking chair because, well, I felt it was something all new moms needed. But now that Justin is bigger, it's kinda hard to position ourselves comfortably in the chair, so for many weeks now, it was underused.

Plus Justin is already at that stage where he could crawl any minute, and I didn't want him to wander under the chair and get his fingers or hand crushed.

So yesterday, I transferred the rocking chair from Justin's room to ours. I moved and re-moved some furniture to try to find a suitable space for it and in the end, I positioned it diagonally across our bed, against a corner.

I didn't expect Eric to come home, take one look, and ask if I could please move it somewhere else. Preferably outside the room.

The reason: "If it starts to rock by itself in the middle of the night, I don't think I could handle it."

Yes, people, I married a scaredy-cat.

Mirror, mirror, on the wall...

Eric and I had a (very brief) fight this morning about mirrors.

I wanted more of them in our bathroom. He thinks I'm going overboard.

Let me give you a history: when we first moved in, we had two mirrors. One medium-sized, rectangular-shaped one over the sink, and an oval-shaped one on my dresser table. I didn't like the oval-shaped mirror over the dresser because it was, by my standards, puny for a dresser mirror, but the mirror was part of the traditional dowry given to me by my mom and we didn't know where else to put it so I agreed it would go on my dresser -- temporarily.

Anyway, changing that wasn't really my priority. What I wanted more was a full-length mirror. One that I could stand in front of and fully appreciate my top, bottom and, yes, sometimes even the footwear. For the longest time, Eric balked at the idea; being a typical guy, he says standing farther away and on tiptoes in front of the oval dresser mirror should be enough for me to see my outfit. Like I said, typical guy.

So I was pleasantly surprised when one day, out of the blue, he told me, "May darating bukas para sukatin yung full-length mirror mo." Yipee. (Personally, I think he was atoning for some sin he committed that I have yet to know about, but he denies it....)

While I was happy, I also decided it would be a good opportunity to ask him if I could change my dresser mirror to something bigger and more quadrilateral in shape. He said "okay," although I think his mind was somewhere else on that time because when I brought it up again this morning...

He balked even more and said that our bathroom has too many mirrors as it is already.

Argh. On one hand, I was upset that he broke his promise; on the other hand, I didn't want to get into a lengthy argument about "You're a guy, you don't understand the importance of mirrors to a girl, blah blah blah."

Because seriously... okay....every girl obviously needs a full-length mirror.

And you need a mirror over the sink so that you can look at your teeth when you're brushing or flossing.

And you need a dresser mirror (a decent dresser mirror) because the dresser is where a girl puts all her face/hair/vanity stuff, and it doesn't make sense for her to keep moving from dresser to skin, dresser to sink.

Let's not forget the small magnifying mirror on the desk (for putting on eye makeup), but that's practically negligible.

Anyway, he told me I could go and look at whatever I wanted. He didn't say "buy," just "look." Which is a first step, so I won't complain anymore.

He's lucky that when we were fixing up our room before we got married, I didn't ask for a closet whose doors were made up of mirrors.

Girls, back me up on this one!

Blank

Some people have a knack for remembering names and faces, even of those they haven't been in contact with for a long time. While I do not possess the same photographic memory, I was confident that I would be able to at least vaguely acknowledge that there was something familiar about the people I run into.

How do you explain, therefore, that three times in three different occasions I was greeted by people -- but I drew a total blank?

The first time was a couple of years back at SM Department Store -- Eric and I were paying for our purchases when someone calls out, "Jacluts, kumusta ka na?"

I turned around and.. I swear... I had no idea who she was. Except she called my by a nickname that only those people from high school know of, so that should narrow things down a bit... NOT. And because I would rather be stupid than embarrassed, I pretended I did know her, and asked, "Uy!!! Kumusta ka na? Saan ka nag-w-work?"

She even introduced me to her boyfriend/husband, while I didn't do the same with Eric, because heck, I she was a total stranger to me!! I left as hurriedly as I could and all through the night, I kept racking my brains. No dice.

The next two instances occurred (separately) at Bonifacio High Street. The first time, I noticed that a girl kept staring at me. I ignored her, but when we nearly collided with each other, she sheepishly waved to me and said something like "hi." Flustered, I said "hey" back and left.

The second time, a guy gave me a "raised eyebrows in greeting" move but as I was walking, I just...walked on.

Not familiar at all.

I must be coming across as a total snob.

Or I'm getting early Alzheimer's.

Reader's resolution

I have a bad habit.

Every time I start a new book, I always, Always, ALWAYS jump to the last pages first to see how it would end.

But I'm making an oath NOT to do that when I get my hands on Harry Potter and The Deathly Hollows (3 weeks and counting!)

I'm almost tempted to buy alligator clips and clip the last few pages of the book to the cover, just so I will feel even more guilty should I attempt to take a peek.

I feel like such a kid... I can't recall the last time I was so excited to get my hands on a book!

Needy me

I need a massage.

I need a vacation.

I need one whole 8-hour stretch of sleep where I don't wake up feeling like I had just lain down.

Yun lang.

The way to Eric's heart...

I read somewhere that many husbands start feeling neglected by the wife once there's a new baby in the house. So to assuage my feelings of guilt (because yes, I admit, there are times when I don't have time for Eric), I compensate by cooking him a yummy dinner.

Unfortunately, I'm a bad cook; I mean, I'm not like others who have such a great sense of taste that they know right away that Ingredient A mixed with Ingredients B and C will taste like this. Me, I rely heavily on cookbooks. And advice from my mom and from a friend who owns a restaurant. Thank God for them. But I think I'm starting to get the hang of it already. And so far, I haven't undercooked or severely burned anything.

Fortunately, Eric is pretty easy to please. As long as the food is swimming in sauce (preferably coconut milk) and there's no trace of ampalaya, he'll eat it.

But eating it is one thing, appreciating it is another.

When he gets up from the table to open a bottle of kimchi or chili sauce (which he always has around), I know he doesn't find what I prepared appetizing.

But when he asks for a second serving of rice... yey, mission accomplished!

Daddy-oh, daddy-awww

Our house is located a few blocks away from a school, and the window in Justin's room offers us a clear view of the cars (as well as people) coming and going to that school.

This is the story of one of those people -- specifically, a father bringing his son to school.

Every morning, he parks his SUV in front of our house, most likely because they want to avoid the gridlock near the school, and probably because we have a tree that offers shade.

Every morning, when they alight from the car, this father kneels behind his son and adjusts the kid's uniform -- he tugs at the pleats of his polo jacket, tugs the hem of his shorts, and folds his socks. Then he moves to kneel in front of his son, brushes the shoulders, fixes the collar, tugs at the sleeves, and again at the front pleats of the polo jacket.

When all this done, there is the final touch: facing the tinted windows of his SUV, this dad takes out a comb and runs it through his hair...then turns and combs his son's hair.

After which he takes his kid's hand on one hand, and his kid's schoolbag on the other hand, and together they cross the street and go off to school.

Every morning, it's like this.

And every morning I have become something of a stalker, waiting and watching them by the window, my heart melting every single time.

This father is not particularly good-looking... he's a bit pudgy around the waistline and his hairstyle is out of date... pero crush ko na siya.

I really need to get out more

My Lakbayan grade is C!

How much of the Philippines have you visited? Find out atLakbayan!

Created by Eugene Villar.

Crazy for Crocs

Went to the village park with Justin yesterday, our first trip back in a very long time.

Was pleasantly/amusedly surprised to see that 80% of the kids who were there were wearing Crocs shoes.

For those living abroad (or in Manila but under a rock), Crocs are today's Havaianas -- they're the latest hit footweart even though I personally think they're ridiculously overpriced, although people say they're so comfy they're worth it.

Still, what does it mean when in the midst of a sea of Crocs-wearing toddlers and kids -- my son is barefoot?

Oldie baby

Looks like Justin has inherited Eric's and my love for oldies music.

I've realized (and repeatedly confirmed) over the past week that he can be soothed just by singing Jose Mari Chan's Can We Stop And Talk Awhile to him.

I've tried other Jose Mari Chan classics like Tell Me Your Name and Afraid for Love to Fade, but nothing makes him grin like hearing "Fancy meeting you alone in the crowd...."

Hopefully, he grows up to appreciates Ryan Cayabyab and the APO Hiking Society as well. OPM rules!

Scrooge-ing on shampoo

It's my fault, really.

I know for a fact that Eric can be quite cost-conscious, sometimes even to the point of being stingy...so when a friend told me that her uncle confirmed that it's cheaper to buy shampoo by sachets than by the bottle, I relayed the news to Eric knowing it would be something he'd appreciate.

Well appreciate he did... a little too much, in fact. On his next trip to the supermarket, he went ahead and did the computations, and was appalled to find out that for the same volume, it's indeed P30 cheaper to just buy sachets.

So that's what we use now -- once every couple of weeks when the bottle runs out, one of us patiently snips sachets and empties the contents into the bottle.

Sometimes I feel we're being maarte, but hey, as Eric likes to often remind me, "You can't save a million pesos without P30." Or something like that.

I'm just thankful that most recently, he's taken over sachet-to-bottle duties.

Now I'm almost afraid that the next item to be sachet-ed would be our toothpaste.

Hair date

Looking for the right hair stylist (not to mention salon) is like looking for Mr. Right.

You look for one... and when you finally find him/her, you're happy as can be and spend the next years of your life exclusively seeing him/her, cultivating a relationship.

But when she resigns to pursue other interests (like what happened to mine), it's back to square one and you start looking for The One all over again.

Or maybe I'm just being too picky. I need someone who can tame my hair but at the same time won't charge me an arm and a leg; someone who's nice and friendly but not gossipy (I'm not like others who practically treat their hairstylists as their confidantes); and someone who won't nag me to get highlights every single frickin' time I go.

I've made the rounds but have yet to find one who will satisfy as much as my "ex" did, so if anyone knows a good salon/stylist in the Makati, Mandaluyong, or Greenhills area, please drop me a line. I might end up cutting my hair myself.

Desperately Stepford

When people ask me what my life is like these days, I'm tempted to say "Like a Desperate Housewife -- without the illicit sex." Har har. Because I am a stay-at-home mom, with the occasional raket here and there, and any free time I have is spent either at the supermarket, the bookstore, or having lunches with fellow "desperate housewives."

Eric, on the other hand, snickers and calls us "Stepford wives." Which I think is a compliment because creepy factor aside, aren't Stepford wives supposed to be gorgeous and good cooks?

While their husbands are the total dogs??

Ha.

From First World to Third

One of Eric's friends from college, Andrew, recently moved into town to take on a job with the Asian Development Bank (shet, inggit, but that's another post altogether). Andrew is a full-blooded Australian, and he moved here along with his wife (who's Filipina but has lived in Australia since she was five months old so is pretty much Aussie na rin) and their one-and-a-half-year-old son. Yesterday, Eric helped them move from an Ortigas service apartment to a Makati service apartment, and afterwards, we took them to SM supermarket so they could buy groceries.

I knew they would be in for a culture shock by coming here, given that they've spent their whole lives in First World digs -- Australia growing up, and then about two years in Tokyo for Andrew's work prior to Manila. But when I talked specifics with Abby, I found out that some of those things that shocked her could be divided into two -- the understandable, and the ridiculous-hilarious.

The understandable:
1) The noise. Apparently, you could get fined in Australia for honking your car horn when it's not a life or death emergency. And even in Tokyo, where they say the traffic is as bad as Manila, drivers don't honk their horns as often. Abby says during her first few days here, she had difficulty crossing the street because she would get rattled and panicky by the sheer number of cars honking their horns.

2) The pollution.

3) The staring. Actually, "gawking" would be more appropriate. And to think we were already in Makati, where expats and foreigners abound; people still stopped and stared whenever Andrew and his family would pass. I distinctly remember talking to Abby along one of the aisles of the supermarket, and this lady pushing as cart actually stopped to listen to us talk -- probably because she couldn't understand why someone who's so Pinay-looking like Abby spoke with a foreign accent. And Pinoy kids actually peered into Andrew's son's stroller to take a closer look at him. I thought they were also stared at in Tokyo, but Abby says people there actually treated them like they were "normal."

Now for the ridiculous-hilarious:

1) Their impression of Philippine sanitation. Okay, so to be fair, their son did get diarrhea a few days after coming here. And I totally agreed that they should only drink bottled water, and that they should ask restaurant waiters not to put ice in their drinks. But I didn't know whether to be offended or to laugh when Abby said that they now also brush their teeth and gargle with bottled water, and that they make it a point not to eat salads in restaurants anymore. Ohhh-kayyyy....

2) All around ka-praningan. Abby couldn't understand why mall security had to check the trunk of our car as well as our bags. We said it was to check for bombs, and I made the mistake of revealing that to be honest, I bomb did go off in one of the buildings in Glorietta a few years back. Abby was absolutely horrified, and I had to quickly tell her that these things happen once in a blue moon, and while Manila isn't the safest place in the world, it's not as bad as how the foreign news makes it out to be. Somehow, she didn't look convinced.

With the rainy/storm season just around the corner, I can't wait to see Abby's reaction to Metro Manila's infamous flash floods, or the brownouts that are sure to happen. I don't know whether to feel sorry for her already, or practice my looking-sympathetic-but-secretly-find-the-whole-thing-amusing expression.

What I'm lending out now

Mothers and daughters lend each other clothes, accessories, and makeup.

What about fathers and daughters? I don't know about other people, but my dad and I exchange reading material--books, magazines, sometimes even newspaper clippings.

When I go home this weekend, I'm lending him Anderson Cooper's "Dispatches From The Edge," which I finished reading in a half day -- and then promptly re-read from start to finish!

It's a very good read -- some parts made me laugh, other parts made me (almost) cry. In fact, my only complaint is that it's too short! Bitin! Hope there's a sequel in the works.
And I really hope it's not true that Anderson is gay!

To have or not to have

Another baby, I mean.

Let me clarify -- obviously, I would want to have another kid. The question is "when."

Eric (gulp) says he's ready for another one, all I have to do is say the word. Easy for him to say, he's not the one waking up at 2 A.M.

Justin's yaya wants me to get pregnant soon too. "Kawawa naman si Justin, walang kalaro." True, because the way things are going, I figure it's going to be three years (at least) before a cousin comes along.

My doctor wants me to wait two years, three if I can, because (a) anything earlier will cause sibling rivalry, and (b) medically speaking, my body will have recovered from baby #1 by then. The downside: I'll be in my thirties by that time, and I read somewhere that once women hit thirty, more health complications occur during pregnancy.

So let's play a game:

Pro of getting pregnant again (like right now): Justin will have an instant playmate
Con: I'll be too busy taking care of the playmate, I won't have time to take care of Justin anymore.

Pro: Isang hirap lang -- one whole series of years of sleepless nights, colic, bedtime and bathtime battles. And then I can rest for the rest of my life, as opposed to puyat-rest-puyat-rest.
Con: Will I really ever get to the "rest" stage? Fyi, Justin is currently 5 months old and I am still not getting the quality sleep that I used to have, and that I so badly need. I really don't think the puyat phase will end anytime soon.

Pro: Isang kain lang -- no need to worry about losing weight now only to have to gain it all back after a couple of years.
Con: I might as well sell all the pre-pregnancy clothes I have in my closet right now. Sayang naman.

Pro: No period!
Con: Hmm, can't think of any. If my decision rested solely on this, I'd say go for it!

To blog or not to blog

I'm back (yet again).

I wish I could give some fantastically glamorous excuse for my absence. Like I went on vacation. Or I finally said "yes" to a job offer. No, and no.

Fact of the matter is, a lot of things happened over the past two weeks...at least on the emotional side. And I couldn't write about them here, because the wrong people might read it, and because the right people will read it and get hurt or mad.

Which brings me to my point -- is there still a point in me blogging? I started this so that I would have an outlet for my thoughts, feelings, joys, and frustrations. But lately there hasn't been much joy, just a lot of frustration; lots of thoughts that are a whirl; and lots of feelings so pent up that I think one of these days I'm just going to explode.

But no, I can't write about them. Because I'm still and will always be a goody-two-shoes who would much rather keep the peace than stir up trouble.

I think I'll rely on how they did it in the pre-Internet years... keep a journal and write all these "censored" issues by hand. That way they're really for my eyes only.

In the meantime, this is as close as I can get to ranting / sharing / just sighing-and-letting-a-bit-out-of-my-chest to the whole world.

In the meantime...

So what else have I been up to?

1) Putting together Justin's photo album. 189 pictures and that's just from birth to the first week of his fourth month. It's quite addicting though, not to mention therapeutic. I'm putting captions on almost every photo by using letters cut out from magazines and brochures, and there's a strange thrill in seeing a page all bright and colorful. Yes, obviously, I need a life.



2) I finished three books in two weeks:
Children of Men by PD James, which was recently turned into a movie starring Clove Owen.
Premise: It's the year 2027 and mankind has become infertile. But our apathetic and pessimistic hero finds out there may be hope yet, and now it's up to him to make sure the bad guys don't find out about it.

The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield. Writer Margaret is invited by writer Vida to write the latter's biography; what they have in common -- they're both the surviving half of a twin. It's a real page-turner with a major twist of an ending, but I don't think men will enjoy reading it as much as women.

Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi. Once a week, a female Iranian professor and seven of her best female students secretly meet to discuss works of Western fiction, all at a time when women can be stoned to death for infractions such as talking to man who is not their father, brother, cousin, or husband, or for wearing the wrong color of lipstick.



3) I cook!
I'm not really a kitchen girl, but the recipes in Yummy, Summit Media's newest magazine, are so easy to make that I felt compelled to take up the challenge. So far, I haven't burned or undercooked anything, but the way I present the food still leaves a lot to be desired.

"Taas-kilay" SMS of the day

Late last night, I got this message from my brother...

"Atch, please ask Eric for contact numbers of girls that are willing to go to a bachelor's party."

It took me a few seconds to figure out what he meant. I texted back, "Ha? You mean strippers? Gagi, wala siyang kilala 'no! Will ask him to ask his friends."

I mean, really...I consider myself to be pretty open-minded, but I will absolutely throw a fit if I find out that a stripper/call-girl is just a text message away from my husband.

Thankfully, I know Eric well enough to confidently say that I have nothing to worry about in that department. For the life of me, I don't know why my brother would even assume he could be of any help.

Hmm... unless...my brother knows something I don't...?!?!

"Taas-kilay" phone call of the day

In all our years together, Eric has never given me reason to doubt his...err...fidelity. Which is a good thing, because otherwise, we would have a huge fight yesterday, no thanks to a lady telemarketer/customer service agent who didn't know how to identify herself properly.

Phone rings...

Me: Hello?

Perky female voice: Hi, can I talk to Eric please?

Not "Mr. Chua." Not "Sir Eric." Not "Mr. Eric Chua."

Me: He's not here. Who's this please?

Perky female voice: This is Natalie. Can I get his cellphone number instead?

Not "This is Natalie of So-and-So company." Not even "This is Natalie of So-and-So, I'm calling to blah blah blah." What did she expect, I'd give out my husband's cellphone number to strange women just like that?

Me: May I ask what this is about?

Perky female voice: Oh, I'm from Fitness First, and we just want to let Eric know that he's entitled to a complimentary blah blah blah.

Me: Oh, he's not interested. Thanks.

And I hang up.

Eric, of course, has a good laugh when I tell him about it, and reasons that Fitness First people are probably very informal and perky when they conduct business. But I think there's a difference between being informal and perky... and being too familiar and unprofessional-sounding. But maybe that's just me.

10 places in the Philippines I want to visit

1. Batanes island
Who cares if the island only has electricity for a limited n umber of hours during the day? Well...err... I do... but I think the breathtaking scenery will more than make up for the discomforts.

2. Sagada
If the road to Sagada from Baguio was better constructed, I think my dad would've taken us there a long time ago. Hopefully, by the time Justin is old enough to travel, the Philippine Department of Tourism would have addressed that problem already.

3. Donsol, Sorsogon
Why else -- to swim with the butanding.

4. Albay, Bicol
To see the Mayon volcano...and eat the pili nuts!

5. Pagudpod beach
A couple of summers ago, I went with Eric and his friends to La Union for a vacation. A couple of us came back to Manila after a few days (presumably because we had work the next day), but the others journeyed on to Pagudpod. Looking back, I should've stayed with them, because it's not everyday you get the chance to travel that far, not to mention with that good a company.

6. Amanpulo (or any of the beaches of Palawan
Okay, so it's probably cheaper to travel to the US. I'll settle for El Nido, or Lagen Island.

7. still in Palawan -- the Calaiuit Wildlife Sanctuary
I'm fascinated by zoos and wild animals. Never mind if the Clauit sanctuary was built by Marcos so that Bongbong could go on a safari without having to leave the Philippines; at least it's still well-maintained up to today.

8. Bantayan Island
The only place in the Philippines where the people are allowed to eat meat on a Good Friday, through a special permit given by the Vatican, no less. This was because when the Spaniards came, they taught the people from Bantayan Island that Holy Week is a time when all people -- even fishermen -- were required to stay home and pray. Because there was no fish to eat, the Vatican allowed the islanders to eat meat, something carried on up to this day.

It's also a pristine place, much like Batanes.

9. Bohol
For the Chocolate Hills. And the amazing beaches. And so that I can look daggers at ignorant tourists who still insist on touching the tarsiers.

10. Tubbataha Reef, Sulu
But I think I'll need to learn how to dive first.

Hay... this list depresses me...

Pillow fights

I know one of the cardinal rules for a healthy relationship is to never go to sleep while still angry at your partner.

Eric and I have tried to maintain that rule since we first got together, but I have to admit that twice recently, we broke it.

The first was because I was just too upset to even think about talking to him at all.

And the second was because the cause of the argument took place exactly at bedtime, and by then I was too sleepy to talk about it or hear his apology (which, to be fair, he readily gave).

But I guess the important thing is on those two occasions, we made up the very next morning. And that (so far) we're not like other couple-friends we know who fight and don't talk to each other for days, even weeks (sila pa ba pag ganun??!?) on end.

Restaurant review: Sumo Sam's

Eric and I ate at Sumo Sam's (6/F Shangri-La Plaza Mall) for dinner yesterday.

Today, we both experienced major diarrhea.

End of review.

Too hot to handle

It's so hot these days that I'm thinking twice about taking up Eric's offer to vacation in Singapore. Isn't Singapore just as hot as Manila, if not more?

Power staff

I'm in love with Powerbooks staff. Even the girls. They're so helpful, I think the country definitely prosper if Powerbooks people were the ones in charge.

A few weeks ago I was at their Greenbelt branch, buying books for my godson. A couple of the books I chose were part of a series... some of the volumes were nicely wrapped in plastic, while the others' plastic were already torn. I asked the saleslady of they had new copies in stock that were completely wrapped in plastic and when she went to check, she told me they didn't anymore, but that if I was willing to wait, she'd take the books out back and wrap them anew. Nice, 'no? National Bookstore staff would've probably just told me, "Ma'am, wala na, last copy na po yun," and let me be.

And then today, I was at Powerbooks' Shangri-La branch, looking for a locally published book. Usually, I look for books on my own but the branch's Filipinana section was crammed, and eventually I got dizzy from searching through all the thin paperbacks. So I went to their Customer Service Center, where the girl checked the computer and found out there was still one copy of the book left. She went to look for it while I browsed the other sections. I think it must've been 20 minutes before she returned, successfully, book in hand. Other salespersons would've probably just given up after five minutes and told me the book was unavailable.

National Bookstore staff, ahem, should take lessons.

Teaser

Justin is getting baptized today.

I'm so nervous / anxious / excited -- it might as well be his wedding day!

20 of my favorite things

a.k.a Life Really, Really Sucks Without Them

Healthy Options' Jan/Feb 2007 newsletter asked readers to list their 20 favorite things (excluding the obvious loved ones and good health), which they printed in their March 2007 issue. Some of the answers included "afternooon nap" and "Grey's Anatomy." I thought long and hard about mine and here they are:

1) Powerbooks' Powercard
2) airline business class
3) crispy kangkong
4) fresh pan de sal
5) St. Ives Apricot Body Scrub
6) old pajamas
7) moviehouse seats with retractable armrests
8) cold shower after a long, hot day
9) massages
10) rakets

11) 80's songs
12) extended edition DVDs
13) flowers
14) December mornings
15) Haagen Dazs ice cream
16) harmless flirtations
17) long lunches or dinners with old friends
18) www.apple.com/trailers
19) garlic rice
20) pedicures

There's nothing quite like the first time

One of the downsides to living alone (versus, say, with the in-laws) is there's no one around to witness Justin's firsts. Like the first time he rolled over. The first time he giggled. The first time he shrieked with delight. Or the first time I learned he could sit up (with some assistance, of course).

While I am, of course, thrilled to be the first to witness these "firsts," it's also a bit sad that the other people close to Justin don't (and can't) have the same benefit. The only other person who can share my delight right then and there is the yaya. Eric, my family, and in-laws have to settle for either just the re-enactment (for things like rolling over or sitting up) or wait for Justin to feel like doing the action again (i.e. shrieking and giggling).

Now that Justin is getting older and his skills are rapidly developing, I have a good mind to install a video camera in the room and just leave it running every time Justin is awake. Because some things are just too precious to keep to yourself.

Introspection

They say Holy Week is supposed to be a time for reflection, so since I'm not going anywhere, I think I'll do just that.

Top 5 regrets:

1) Not completing my MA in Asian Studies. I took only one semester, and went LOA right after, because I couldn't fit it in with work, and I was too dyahe to formally drop out of the program since I busted my ass to apply in the first place.

2) Not travelling enough. Even domestically. I should've made the most out of all the 3-day weekends there were.

3) Not participating in EDSA 2. I don't know why I didn't. I think because (again), it conflicted with work. Plus no one wanted to go with me, or their parents didn't want them going in the first place. I should've just gone alone.

4) Not giving my all when I was an intern with the PDI. What happened was I showed up, wrote and filed my stories, and left for home. Because I was such a shy greenhorn and felt I was way out of my league. Looking back, I realized that I squandered an opportunity other journalism students would've killed to have. And maybe my career would've taken off in a different direction.

5) Not paying attention to my Mandarin Chinese classes. Whether it was in high school, Taiwan, or Beijing. Again, another squandered opportunity.

Top 5 things I'm thankful for:

1) My supportive family. Whatever angst I may have with my parents and brothers, they all went away when I stayed with them right after giving birth. I don't know how I would've survived that first month without them.

2) Friends who don't change. My high school barkada remains my barkada up to now. We're the type who even if we don't see each other for the whole year and only meet up during the holidays, it's as if we were never that apart for long in the first place.

3) The chance to study at UP Diliman.

4) Incredible opportunities at work. From an all-expense paid trip to Boracay for Singapore Airlines, to guesting on radio and TV for Entrepreneur Philippines.... hay, is it a wonder why I miss work so much?

5) My healthy, bouncing baby boy. I was so praning during my entire 9 months of pregnancy that when Justin came out way better than expected (and growing better than expected!), I couldn't help but think I must've done something good in my past life to deserve something so great.

10 things I (blank) about him

Sometimes I wonder if Eric and I are really compatible:

1) I'm a morning person; anytime before 10am, he's Oscar The Grouch.

2) I put sauces on my food by the dollop; he likes his food swimming in them.

3) He's very masipag in keeping in touch with friends, even those who live in other countries. I can't even bring myself to organize a reunion with my college classmates.

4) He perspires after a short walk; if I'm perspiring it means it's REALLY hot.

5) I like planning ahead -- yes, even months ahead. He's not as..umm...forward-thinking.

6) I'm a neat freak. He's perfectly fine with leaving the bed unmade for the rest of the day.

7) I feel that modern cleaning conveniences like the vacuum cleaner and washing machine are indispensable; he thinks I'm being maarte when I use them.

8) He likes horror movies. Especially Tagalog ones. I can't stop rolling my eyes whenever I watch them.

9) He's very hot-tempered; I rarely lose my cool, or if I do, I don't show it like he does.

10) He's into cars and gadgets; I can't even tell one model apart from the other.

And then I think about some of the things that we have in common:

1) Browsing in Powerbooks.

2) Japanese food.

3) B-grade disaster films.

4) We're both Kapamilya.

5) Strong attachment to family.

6) Haagen Dazs ice cream.

7) Saying "sorry" (and forgiving right after).

8) Cold cuts for breakfast (him = ham; me = salami).

9) Being low-maintenance.

10) Doing groceries.

I think 10 years from now, I'll look back at these two lists again and add some more items. Let's see which list grows longer.

One month at a time

My old clothes are starting to fit me again... at least, the tops are. They're still a bit tight but at least I can already bring them down across my chest... during my first month after giving birth, I couldn't even slip my arms into the sleeves!

The day I can fit into my old jeans... magpapakain ako!!!

A-hoo! Astig!

Forget the actors (hunky na, good acting pa!), the cool special effects, and the even cooler fight scenes. 300 will go down in my book as the movie with the most quotable quotes ever!

And I'm not talking about "Tonight we dine in hell" or "Madness? This is Sparta!" The best quotes are the ones not included in the trailer. Unfortunately, my memory isn't that accurate now so the lines below aren't verbatim... Damn, I should've taken my notebook out and written the lines down the minute the actor said them.

Still, it's much better than Eric "I'm-very-bad-with-movie-lines" The Hubby, who says the only line he remembers is "Traitor! Traitor!"

***
Persian officer: Spartans, lay down your weapons.
Leonidas: Persians, come and get them.

***
Xerxes: Our cultures have much to learn from each other.
Spartan: Haven't you noticed, we've been sharing our culture with you all morning?

***
Xerxes: We will make slaves out of your women.
Leonidas: Clearly you don't know our women. I should bring them up here, after what your men have shown me this morning.

***
Persian messenger: What gives this woman the right to speak to me as an equal?
Queen Gorgo: Because only women can give birth to Spartan men.

***
Leonidas: Spartans, what is your profession?
Spartans: A-hoo! Ahoo!


I can't wait too buy the DVD.

Dreaming of Dubai

I've been nagging wheedling Eric to take me on a Justin-free vacation, even just for a couple of days, so that we can recharge and spend time together as "husband and wife," instead of "mother and father."

We would've wanted to go back to New Zealand, where we had our honeymoon, and explore more of the places that we didn't get to spend too much time in, like Queenstown and Christchurch. But that would require a longer time away from Justin, and we both agreed that the longest we'll be gone is three days.

We thought of going to a beach, like Phuket or maybe even Bohol or Palawan (since a trip to El Nido costs about the same as going abroad). And then I realized I still have pounds to lose before I can confidently wear a bathing suit again, so scratch that.

Eric suggested Hong Kong or Singapore, and I was all settled to go there when I read Anton's account of his trip to Dubai. Ooh, Dubai... All of a sudden that was where I wanted to go.... See the desert... Visit the Burj Al Arab (see photo above).... And drive across the sand dunes like they did in one of the seasons of Amazing Race.

My excitement dampened when I suddenly thought of what we'll have to eat there (what does Arab cuisine consist of??) but then I read that they serve food like the ones in Cafe Mediterranean (moussaka, hummous, etc) and I love that restaurant...so problem solved!!

Now I just have to convince Eric that going to a desert will be fun....

Not (yet) a desperate housewife

People always tell me I'm so lucky to be "just" a stay-at-home, since I no longer have to concern myself with the daily grind that comes with being a corporate slave.

Yeah right. I think life now is just as stressful nakakaloka challenging, if not more.

Take, for example, my waking time. When I was working for Summit, I could wake up at 8 or 8:30am and still have time to leisurely shower, dress, eat breakfast, or sometimes even catch the "via satellite" telecast of The Amazing Race before heading off to work.

Nowadays, I wake up at 6am, because that's also around the time that Justin wakes. I feed him his milk, play with him for awhile, then give him to his yaya around 7:30am, after which I hurriedly shower, dress, and eat breakfast because he gets fussy for bathtime around 9:30am, and in those two hours I have to fix our room, do the laundry (if it's laundry day), and prepare what I'll be eating for lunch. That leaves me about an hour of "personal time," which
I use to read yesterday's papers.

Everything after 9:30am is "Justin" time, until about 4pm when I hand him over to the yaya again because I have to prepare dinner, return the calls that I ignored for the whole day, and load the washing machine (if it's laundry day). Again, if I have personal time left, that's when I check my email, update my blog, and surf the Net.

At Summit, I had a boss, but we treat each other more like peers, so she wasn't exactly an authoritative a figure as compared to my two bosses now -- my mom and my mom-in-law, both of whom have very strong (and, in the latter's case, very different) opinions about what to do and not to do to a baby.

And finally, of course, there's leisure time. At work, even at the height of deadlines or uncooperative subjects, you can still count on breaks—spontaneous chika sessions with co-workers, comfort food at Dunkin Donuts, weekends, holidays, and that old "leave work behind once you go home" adage.

But when you're a stay-at-home mom, there are no breaks (even trips to the toilet are rushed), no holidays, and you certainly can't put your baby out of your mind in the rare times that you get to go to the mall. My routine with Justin on a Monday is the same routine on a Sunday, Christmas Day, and even for this coming Holy Week. My only days off are Tuesdays when my mom comes to babysit so I can go and run errands (but even then I find myself texting her every hour to check how he is) and the monthly Sundays when yaya has her day off and Eric and I have ours.

I'm not complaining, okay. (At least not now that Justin has already started sleeping through the night, hehe). Am just saying that the next time you say someone is lucky for being "just a housewife," be sure to duck because you might get hit by a soggy diaper.

About "forgive and forget"

We hear it often, "Forgive and forget..."

But tell me...

If you honestly, sincerely, and with all your heart forgive someone...

But one...two...ten years down the line you still haven't forgotten the incident..

Does that mean you never truly forgave in the first place?

Or is it possible to really forgive... but just can't forget?

Hardy fan

For some reason, I've always preferred The Hardy Boys to Nancy Drew. And yes, until now, I still don't know who is more crush-able, Frank or Joe.

Which is why I was especially pleased when I read that Tom Cruise and Ben Stiller are in talks to star in The Hardy Men, which is an update on the lives of our teen-age amateur detectives. The premise is the boys are adults now, but estranged (oooh); of course, they must put their differences aside and team up to solve a mystery. Yadda, yadda, yadda.

Quite shallow, I know, but what can I say, some crushes just can't be forgotten.

Seeing signs

Writing seems to be beckoning me once again.

Last week, a cousin asked my help in writing a recommendation letter that she'll be getting a congressman to sign.

Yesterday, my former boss called me up to ask if I would be interested in going back to work as the managing editor of one of their magazines (more on that later).

And just this afternoon, my uncle asked me to help write him a company profile, because he has to make a presentation to a major conglomerate next week.

Could these be signs that maybe it's time I pick the pen up again... or in modern-speak..start tapping away at the keyboard again?

And speaking of work...

So I was a bit depressed last night.

Ever since I gave birth, I have—on three different occasions—received calls from my former boss offering me various work. Each one, mind you, was better than the other. When I turned down offer #3 yesterday, my boss and I ended the conversation with her stressing that anytime I'm ready to go back to work, I should give them a call.

On one hand, it's flattering that they want me back so much.

On the other hand, it's also quite depressing that they want me back so much. Not to sound vain, but even when I was working for them, I knew how valued I was. So after that offer yesterday, I couldn't help but wonder how my career would've progressed if I had stayed on and enjoyed their good graces.

Which led me to think what if I hadn't gotten pregnant in the first place? Because that's what led to the resignation.

And then which made me think what if I hadn't gotten married nalang? Because that's what led to the pregnancy.

I had friends who used to bemoan life's "what if's" and I always rationalize that it's normal to think such thoughts because "the grass is always greener on the other side." Now, for the first time (at least for the major first time), I find myself thinking about the neighboring grass as well.

I know I can always go back to work... in five, six years maybe. But by then, will I still be as young, energetic and talented enough to make inroads in my career? That's what scares me.

And yes, there's always freelancing, but call me vain again—it's different when you have a calling card that comes with an impressive-sounding designation attached to an impressive magazine. For me, freelancing is like being a jack-of-all-trades; when you work full-time, you're the master of a particular domain.

So why not just go back to work now? Because I can't leave Justin just yet. Because I swore I'd be a hands-on mom and refuse to end up with a child who's closer to his yaya than to his own parents. So yes, I started this work vs. family dilemma in the first place. Hay.

But I think I can go on to being a stay-at-home mom until my kid/kids are of school age.

If only my former boss would stop calling.

What to do, what to do?

Once a month, when Justin's yaya has the day off, Eric and I also take ours. We bundle Justin up, pack all of his necessities (which translate to almost half of his belongings), and drop him off at my parents' so that we can go catch a movie. Which is pretty much all we can do, as going to Tagaytay takes up too much time, and shopping has become one of my least favorite activities since trying on clothes just depresses me.

While I usually look forward to our monthly dates, today is pretty "blah," as there's really no outstanding movie to see. Ghost Rider, Music & Lyrics and Curse of the Golden Flower all received so-so ratings.

I would've wanted to watch Letters from Iwo Jima or The Last King of Scotland but they're only showing in Glorietta cinemas, and it would be a waste of time to travel from our home in Makati to my parents' home in Quezon City, and then come back to Makati for the movie, and then go back to QC to pick Justin up. Besides, they're pretty heavy/depressing films, and when you only have once a month to go on a date, you want the date to be as fun and lively as possible.

The Holiday would've been a great fun and lively film, but Eric balks at watching what he calls "an obvious chick flick." He nominates You Got Me, but any film with Zanjoe Marudo in it -- ugh.

We'll probably end up watching Ghost Rider. I guess the important thing is it's not what you do, it's who you do it with.

How sweet it is... or isn't?

Sometimes I wonder if I'm being a good enough wife to Eric, and by "good" I mean if I pamper him enough.

Case in point: Last year, we had a party at our house and one of Eric's friend's wife arrived earlier than her husband because he had to work late. The food was served buffet style, so we all ate ahead of him.

A couple of hours after dinner started, the friend arrived and proceeded to circulate and say "hi" to everyone. Meanwhile, his wife went into the kitchen and proceeded to load up a plate of food for him, which she handed to him afterwards. He literally didn't have to lift a finger to get his meal; the food came to him.

Of course, initially I raised my eyebrows at the whole thing ("May kamay naman siya, bakit di nalang siya ang kumuha ng pagkain niya?") but then I got to thinking that maybe this is supposed to be the norm between husbands and wives? After all, my brother's girlfriend is the same thing. Even at a regular dinner table, my brother sits back and lets the girl put his entire meal on his plate, even down to the amount of pesto sauce on his pasta.

So my question is: Is this what all wives and girlfriends should do for their husbands or boyfriends? Because I certainly don't, and in the same vein Eric doesn't do it to me, either. The most we do is put viands on each other's plate when the dish is within our reach and far from the other one's. We don't presume to prepare the partner's entire meal, because for one thing, who am I to know if Eric is in the mood for that much crab, just as Eric can't gauge how much sauce I want on my spaghetti.

Eric jokes that his friends and my brother's girlfriend are probably looking at me and thinking that I'm the un-sweetest wife they've ever met.

Stories from 2:00 A.M. #2

Motherhood is exhausting. It taxes you not just physically, but also mentally and emotionally. You're always second-guessing yourself, and every little change in baby's usual demeanor or routine immediately brings about a flurry of "What if I had done this instead?"

I say "motherhood" and not "parenthood" because dads have it so easy. Mothers take all the flak (i.e. "Why is your baby so fussy?" "Hmm, are you sure you're feeding him right, he looks like he's not gaining weight?" "Why did you buy such a baduy baby outfit?"); dads, on the other hand, because they're not expected to participate in the rigors of raising a baby, get all the praise for doing the littlest and most inconsequential things.

"Oh, how sweet, he's carrying the baby around." (Even if baby looks like he's about to slide off his arms)

"Wow, he changes diapers! Ang galing naman." (Today's disposable diapers are so easy to take on and off a five-year-old could do them! Let's see him wipe off the poopoo.)

Dads are overrated; moms under-appreciated.

Today promises to be a good day

Last night, I had a great dinner/gabfest with my best girl friends, my first in many months.

This morning, even though Justin demanded a feeding at 5:00 A.M., he went to sleep without any problems right afterwards. Which gives me peace and quiet until later around 9:00 A.M. Trust me, that's a godsend.

Eric has no work today, so I get to spend the whole day with him. And he promised to buy me McDonald's for breakfast!

My dad and youngest brother are visiting today, as well as a couple of Eric's friends, so for a few hours today, there'll be some new "energy" in the house.

So I resolve not to ruin today by getting upset. Over anything. Even just for today.

Boy friend-less

Justin will be baptized soon and Eric and I are finalizing our list of godparents. We're keeping it down to two pairs only, which means I contribute one set and Eric contributes the other.

My problem is while I have a whole slew of girl friends to choose as godmothers, I have a dearth of male friends whom I can select as godfathers. Actually, not "dearth"..make it nil. I studied at an exclusive girls' school in high school and being the nerd that I was, did not join (nor was I invited to) any of those soirees that were held with the neighboring boys' school. So lost my chance to network there.

Yeah, I had a few male friends in college but regrettably, we lost touch since graduation, and the relationship I have with some of them now are, sadly, superficial at best. It's the same case with some former suitors; but I guess even if we were friends, I'm not sure how Eric would react to making them Justin's "second fathers."

Fortunately, I have, ahem, exemplary younger brothers who are more than suitable to be godfathers. Unfortunately, I only have two of them, which means if I have more than two kids, I'm in big trouble.

I guess the compromsie for kid #3: Eric supplies the godfathers, I supply the godmothers.

P.S. Yii, I can't believe am already thinking of having more kids!!!