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.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Sunday, February 25, 2007
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.
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.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
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!!!
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!!!
Friday, February 23, 2007
Taga-peyups and proud!
Too many people are assuming that I'm from Ateneo de Manila, the latest being Justin's yaya, who told him, "Galing-galing ng mommy mo, cum laude graduate ng Ateneo..." Err, which one do I correct first?
I wonder why people immediately think I'm Atenista?
Is it because people still think all UP students end up as communists, and just because I didn 't join the NPA means I'm not a product of the state university?
Is it because of my embarrassingly and hopelessly poor Tagalog speaking skills?
I asked Eric about it this morning and his explanation... "Mukha ka kasing high-maintenance."
Curiously, it's always Ateneo... how come no one ever assumes I'm from UST? Or DLSU? Or UA&P?
And speaking of high maintenance...
Based on this article, I'm not!!!
==========
Four signs she's high maintenance
By Marcia Jedd
Most men have been there. Many won’t admit they’ve been there: involved with a high-maintenance date or girlfriend. You can run from a high-maintenance woman and you can hide, but your best chance of going unharmed is to avoid her all together.
“Once I get a whiff of one, I steer clear,” says Brian, 40, an advertising manager in Omaha. Ross, 43, a consultant in San Francisco, found that he hasn’t attracted one in recent years. “I really don't date high-maintenance chicks as a rule.”
To avoid them, you’ve got to know how to spot them. Consider these tips on spotting the classic high-maintenance woman:
High H.B.A. factor. Rookie observers, remember the H.B.A. acronym (which stands for “Health, Beauty & Accessories”). As in, obsessed with H.B.A. Scan the latest trendy store, restaurant or bar and you’ll spot high-maintenance women easily in their natural habitat. Ground zero for the high-maintenance species are beauty salons, malls and occasionally, the health club. (Yes, female gym rats can be high maintenance, although scientists say it’s a rare occurrence.) Is she dressed to the nines at the grocery store? Is she sporting full-tilt makeup and big hair at the health club when other women are in sweats and no makeup? Look closer and you’ll find what constitutes high-maintenance is as varied as her patchwork quilt or designer bag, her intricately painted toenails or her voracious appetite for beauty treatments.
Emotional insecurity. High maintenance women can be as insecure as a lost toddler. They can freak out if you even so much as give an extended glance at another woman, among other indicators of emotional neediness. Her neediness often requires her to control and direct your behavior.
Controlling. Is she always instructing you to call her or sets rules around things? (Example: “Call me at work tomorrow at 2 p.m.”) Worse yet, she might express anger or manipulate you to get you to do what she wants. A range of ploys such as her demands to call frequently, fix-it items, and transportation needs (“Can you pick me up?”) are all ways to keep you on a short leash or otherwise attempt to control your behavior.
Communications. Guys, if she talks like this, run: “Like, oh my God, I was on the way to the mall and…” (At your own risk, remind her that “Valleyspeak” went out in the 1990s with Frank Zappa.) Pay attention to what she talks about for it’s the critical indicator of what might – or might not be – going on in her brain. Is it all about her, shopping and her friends? Chances are you have a high-maintenance girl on your hands. I say “girl” because rarely are mature women really that high maintenance. If they are, they may be limited to the divorcée set, who brandish fake dark tans, fake body parts, overprocessed hair and enough bling-bling to make you squint.
And, if you still have doubts, consider these stories:
Look in the mirror. Make absolutely certain that you’re not the one crying foul. Could you be high maintenance yourself? Consider the case of Michelle, now 42, who a decade ago broke up with a serious boyfriend, Jeremy. They had dated a year and a half and Michelle graciously declined his proposal for marriage and broke it off. “He accused me of being a materialistic you-know-what. Guess he was pretty raw, even after I told him not to buy an engagement ring.” Michelle was never high maintenance. She drives an older car that’s paid off, makes her own coffee every morning and has owned the same home for many years.
The picnic test. If you have doubts about her high-maintenance level, put it to the test. See how she handles an impromptu picnic. Suggest casual food from the deli, a cookout, or wine, bread and cheese. Then, gauge her reactions carefully. Dirk, a Minneapolis marketing manager, didn’t discover he was dating a high-maintenance woman until it was too late. When he was in his early thirties, he dated twenty-something Jodi for a couple of years. “On our way to a picnic, we had to stop so she could buy a new outfit, out of my pocket of course, because the one she took an hour to pick out on her own wasn’t good enough for the picnic.”
That was the first “picnic incident.” The second one was even sadder. The couple had spontaneously decided to go on a picnic, so they stopped by a deli at a grocery store near a nice lake area. “When the clerk weighed each of our salads, hers weighed more. She stormed out saying that I made her look like a pig because I wasn’t eating as much as she was. Kinda nuts, huh?”
==========
Four signs she's high maintenance
By Marcia Jedd
Most men have been there. Many won’t admit they’ve been there: involved with a high-maintenance date or girlfriend. You can run from a high-maintenance woman and you can hide, but your best chance of going unharmed is to avoid her all together.
“Once I get a whiff of one, I steer clear,” says Brian, 40, an advertising manager in Omaha. Ross, 43, a consultant in San Francisco, found that he hasn’t attracted one in recent years. “I really don't date high-maintenance chicks as a rule.”
To avoid them, you’ve got to know how to spot them. Consider these tips on spotting the classic high-maintenance woman:
High H.B.A. factor. Rookie observers, remember the H.B.A. acronym (which stands for “Health, Beauty & Accessories”). As in, obsessed with H.B.A. Scan the latest trendy store, restaurant or bar and you’ll spot high-maintenance women easily in their natural habitat. Ground zero for the high-maintenance species are beauty salons, malls and occasionally, the health club. (Yes, female gym rats can be high maintenance, although scientists say it’s a rare occurrence.) Is she dressed to the nines at the grocery store? Is she sporting full-tilt makeup and big hair at the health club when other women are in sweats and no makeup? Look closer and you’ll find what constitutes high-maintenance is as varied as her patchwork quilt or designer bag, her intricately painted toenails or her voracious appetite for beauty treatments.
Emotional insecurity. High maintenance women can be as insecure as a lost toddler. They can freak out if you even so much as give an extended glance at another woman, among other indicators of emotional neediness. Her neediness often requires her to control and direct your behavior.
Controlling. Is she always instructing you to call her or sets rules around things? (Example: “Call me at work tomorrow at 2 p.m.”) Worse yet, she might express anger or manipulate you to get you to do what she wants. A range of ploys such as her demands to call frequently, fix-it items, and transportation needs (“Can you pick me up?”) are all ways to keep you on a short leash or otherwise attempt to control your behavior.
Communications. Guys, if she talks like this, run: “Like, oh my God, I was on the way to the mall and…” (At your own risk, remind her that “Valleyspeak” went out in the 1990s with Frank Zappa.) Pay attention to what she talks about for it’s the critical indicator of what might – or might not be – going on in her brain. Is it all about her, shopping and her friends? Chances are you have a high-maintenance girl on your hands. I say “girl” because rarely are mature women really that high maintenance. If they are, they may be limited to the divorcée set, who brandish fake dark tans, fake body parts, overprocessed hair and enough bling-bling to make you squint.
And, if you still have doubts, consider these stories:
Look in the mirror. Make absolutely certain that you’re not the one crying foul. Could you be high maintenance yourself? Consider the case of Michelle, now 42, who a decade ago broke up with a serious boyfriend, Jeremy. They had dated a year and a half and Michelle graciously declined his proposal for marriage and broke it off. “He accused me of being a materialistic you-know-what. Guess he was pretty raw, even after I told him not to buy an engagement ring.” Michelle was never high maintenance. She drives an older car that’s paid off, makes her own coffee every morning and has owned the same home for many years.
The picnic test. If you have doubts about her high-maintenance level, put it to the test. See how she handles an impromptu picnic. Suggest casual food from the deli, a cookout, or wine, bread and cheese. Then, gauge her reactions carefully. Dirk, a Minneapolis marketing manager, didn’t discover he was dating a high-maintenance woman until it was too late. When he was in his early thirties, he dated twenty-something Jodi for a couple of years. “On our way to a picnic, we had to stop so she could buy a new outfit, out of my pocket of course, because the one she took an hour to pick out on her own wasn’t good enough for the picnic.”
That was the first “picnic incident.” The second one was even sadder. The couple had spontaneously decided to go on a picnic, so they stopped by a deli at a grocery store near a nice lake area. “When the clerk weighed each of our salads, hers weighed more. She stormed out saying that I made her look like a pig because I wasn’t eating as much as she was. Kinda nuts, huh?”
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Must be something in their water
This online magazine that I subscribe to is asking readers to vote on what they think is the world's sexiest accent.
I haven't heard Argentinians speak, and I certainly wouldn't be able to tell the difference between Finnish and French accents, but right now my money is on the Aussie twang!
Hugh Jackman. Mel Gibson (pre-drunken anti-Semite days). Julian McMahon. Russel Crowe (okay, he's a native New Zealander but he grew up in Oz!). I hear them talk and just go weak at the knees. I've raved about them here and I'm loyal as ever now. Another hottie Aussie is Jesse Spencer, who plays Dr. Chase on the tv show House. In my opinion, Patrick Dempsey (from Grey's Anatomy) doesn't even come close!
And Steve Irwin? Okay, so his accent's a little too thick for me, but his passion and energy make him charming na rin.
So how about you guys? What accent do you find the sexiest?
I haven't heard Argentinians speak, and I certainly wouldn't be able to tell the difference between Finnish and French accents, but right now my money is on the Aussie twang!
Hugh Jackman. Mel Gibson (pre-drunken anti-Semite days). Julian McMahon. Russel Crowe (okay, he's a native New Zealander but he grew up in Oz!). I hear them talk and just go weak at the knees. I've raved about them here and I'm loyal as ever now. Another hottie Aussie is Jesse Spencer, who plays Dr. Chase on the tv show House. In my opinion, Patrick Dempsey (from Grey's Anatomy) doesn't even come close!
And Steve Irwin? Okay, so his accent's a little too thick for me, but his passion and energy make him charming na rin.
So how about you guys? What accent do you find the sexiest?
Friday, February 16, 2007
18 pounds
That's exactly how much I have to lose if I want to go back to my pre-pregnancy weight and figure. I've already succumbed to practicality and recently bought some new clothes to accommodate my present frame, but they're only a few pieces as I am determined to go back to wearing all my old outfits soon.
I read somewhere that the body really does not start losing weight until after the second month post-partum -- apparently, you need all the energy you can get to recuperate from the rigors of pregnancy and labor. Well, am now on my second-and-a-half month, so it's time to really get down to business.
So to all those who plan to give me sweets or other delectable goodies on my birthday, please don't. Lalo na mango torte. Or Red Ribbon's chocolate marjolaine cake. Or Razon's halo-halo. All of which I love. Because I might not be able to resist. And might end up having to shop for an entirely new wardrobe.
I read somewhere that the body really does not start losing weight until after the second month post-partum -- apparently, you need all the energy you can get to recuperate from the rigors of pregnancy and labor. Well, am now on my second-and-a-half month, so it's time to really get down to business.
So to all those who plan to give me sweets or other delectable goodies on my birthday, please don't. Lalo na mango torte. Or Red Ribbon's chocolate marjolaine cake. Or Razon's halo-halo. All of which I love. Because I might not be able to resist. And might end up having to shop for an entirely new wardrobe.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Depressed
Today was like any other day.
Pretty much like how it has been for the past six years.
Why do I even bother expecting that something will happen?
*Sigh*
P.S. There is one thing to look forward to -- it's Hollywood Week on American Idol!
Pretty much like how it has been for the past six years.
Why do I even bother expecting that something will happen?
*Sigh*
P.S. There is one thing to look forward to -- it's Hollywood Week on American Idol!
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
License to rant
I went to have my driver's license renewed today and, as with any trip to a government office, there's no lack of interesting stories to tell.
The first story involves the mandatory urine test to screen for drugs. I had a lot of urinalysis done when I was pregnant so when they asked me for a sample this time, I obliged by doing the usual -- peeing a small but medicine-dropper-adequate amount into the cup. When I came out, the man took a look and said, "Ma'am, inom pa kayo ng tubig, kulang po bigay ninyo. Kailangan puno."
And we're talking a pretty big cup here -- if it were my first pee of the day, I'd fill it up easily, but we're talking about a half-full bladder here! I was tempted to ask what the hell kind of exams they were doing that they needed so much wiwi (don't they just need a drop or two to be examined???) but I didn't want to create a fuss (I was in a hurry and you don't mess with government, lest they "misplace" your forms) so I went out and bought 2 bottles of mineral water, which I gulped down.
Went back inside and peed again -- shet!! Kulang pa rin!!!
This time I drank 3 bottles of water, and finally, success!! I filled it to the brim and prayed the pee would slosh onto the examiner's hands.
When I told my dad about it, he said they probably needed that much pee so that they could "sell" the excess to those applicants who could not afford to submit their own samples. Shet talaga.
Story #2 involves the lady evaluator I submitted my papers to. For some reason she was super nice to me --
1. instead of letting me wait outside like the rest of the hoi polloi, she actually told me to just hang around inside the LTO office "para may aircon;"
2. she put my papers on top of her colleague's pile instead of the bottom so that it would get processed before all those others who were ahead of me;
3. and she even gave me her landline and cell numbers so that in a few months, I could easily find out if my permanent license was ready to be claimed.
Either I reminded her of her daughter or granddaughter -- or she saw my home address and probably felt a person who lived in such a place was worth sucking up to (as if).
I'm just glad she was a woman -- if a male evaluator did all these I'd be creeped out. Not to mention receive another "What were you wearing anyway??" sermon from Eric.
The first story involves the mandatory urine test to screen for drugs. I had a lot of urinalysis done when I was pregnant so when they asked me for a sample this time, I obliged by doing the usual -- peeing a small but medicine-dropper-adequate amount into the cup. When I came out, the man took a look and said, "Ma'am, inom pa kayo ng tubig, kulang po bigay ninyo. Kailangan puno."
And we're talking a pretty big cup here -- if it were my first pee of the day, I'd fill it up easily, but we're talking about a half-full bladder here! I was tempted to ask what the hell kind of exams they were doing that they needed so much wiwi (don't they just need a drop or two to be examined???) but I didn't want to create a fuss (I was in a hurry and you don't mess with government, lest they "misplace" your forms) so I went out and bought 2 bottles of mineral water, which I gulped down.
Went back inside and peed again -- shet!! Kulang pa rin!!!
This time I drank 3 bottles of water, and finally, success!! I filled it to the brim and prayed the pee would slosh onto the examiner's hands.
When I told my dad about it, he said they probably needed that much pee so that they could "sell" the excess to those applicants who could not afford to submit their own samples. Shet talaga.
Story #2 involves the lady evaluator I submitted my papers to. For some reason she was super nice to me --
1. instead of letting me wait outside like the rest of the hoi polloi, she actually told me to just hang around inside the LTO office "para may aircon;"
2. she put my papers on top of her colleague's pile instead of the bottom so that it would get processed before all those others who were ahead of me;
3. and she even gave me her landline and cell numbers so that in a few months, I could easily find out if my permanent license was ready to be claimed.
Either I reminded her of her daughter or granddaughter -- or she saw my home address and probably felt a person who lived in such a place was worth sucking up to (as if).
I'm just glad she was a woman -- if a male evaluator did all these I'd be creeped out. Not to mention receive another "What were you wearing anyway??" sermon from Eric.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Pang-artista ang beauty ko!
Got this from Heinz' blog... Apparently there's this website that runs a photo of your face through its databank to determine which celebrities you most look like.
My results:
Okay, so I resemble hotties like Zhang Ziyi and Kate Bosworth (naks!)... but Jet Li???? Must be the eyes.
My results:
Okay, so I resemble hotties like Zhang Ziyi and Kate Bosworth (naks!)... but Jet Li???? Must be the eyes.
Friday, February 09, 2007
Observations at 2:00 A.M.
For some reason, Eric can actually snore his way through his son's screaming fits.
But if I turn on the television (even if the volume has been lowered to the barest of a whisper), he wakes up!!
Up to now, I still don't know whether to find this irony amusing or annoying.
But if I turn on the television (even if the volume has been lowered to the barest of a whisper), he wakes up!!
Up to now, I still don't know whether to find this irony amusing or annoying.
Sunday, February 04, 2007
High-maintenance babe
Used to be I felt that our house was too big for just Eric and me. But with Justin around, the extra spaces are just right.
You see, I have what the books call a high-maintenance baby -- when Justin is cranky or fidgety, he doesn't want to be just held. He also wants to be danced with, rocked, bounced, and -- his favorite -- taken "pasyal." And by "pasyal," we mean either walking in huge circles around the living room, to and fro across the garden, or (pant!!) up and own the stairs.
And whether it's 2 P.M. or 2 A.M., all these are done repeatedly and for as long and as varied as possible until he calms down.
Which makes me wonder how parents living in condominium units handle fussy babies?
Car rides also actually do the trick (he dozes off once we hit the road) but it's not like we can do it everytime he gets fussy. So all Eric and I are left with are our own two feet and stamina. The good thing is all this moving around is a great way to lose weight (aerobics yan!), so everytime I feel the urge to cry out in frustration when it gets to tough, I just think of all the pounds my baby is helping me lose and I get that extra surge of energy.
Besides, when he finally calms down and breaks into one of his smiles (like the one above), I forget my tiredness in a snap.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Mark your calendars
From www.jkrowling.com
Thursday 1 February 2007
Thursday 1 February 2007
Publication Date for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows will be published on Saturday 21st July 2007 at 00:01 BST in the UK and at 00:01 in the USA. It will also be released at 00:01 BST on Saturday 21st July in other English speaking countries around the world.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Every day is Father's Day
Eric and I have been together for a little over six years...
He's been with Justin for a little over six weeks...
But he has more pictures of him and Justin together than of him and me!
Now if only he were as enthusiastic when it comes to changing diapers and late night/early morning feedings...
P.S. Come to think of it, Justin has more pictures with his papa than with me!! My kid is probably going to grow up thinking I didn't spend as much time with him! Makabawi nga...well, at least once I lose weight...
He's been with Justin for a little over six weeks...
But he has more pictures of him and Justin together than of him and me!
Now if only he were as enthusiastic when it comes to changing diapers and late night/early morning feedings...
P.S. Come to think of it, Justin has more pictures with his papa than with me!! My kid is probably going to grow up thinking I didn't spend as much time with him! Makabawi nga...well, at least once I lose weight...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
