So I decided to create another blog dedicated to my D-I-Ys and artsy fartsy stuff:
https://creativechaosmanila.wordpress.com/
I know this blog gets a little confusing, with me jumping from one topic to another. I myself get confused. I’m hoping the creation of another blog will make it all less confusing and me more focused. But I doubt it. It’s me we’re talking about here and it’s me who is now ambitiously maintaining two blogs. We’ll see.
… with the butterflies and bee–eees… lalalala
Image from Wikipedia
After Sesame Street and Elmo’s World, Spongebob Squarepants, Katy Perry’s Roar, Masha and the Bear, Cars, How to Train Your Dragon, Jurassic Park (we still watch the trilogy from time to time), Sound of Music, Mary Poppins, Annie, Peppa Pig, Pocoyo, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse,
— our new favorite TV show to watch to bond over is The Adventure Time. We watch the episodes every night before bed time and sing to the title sequence, the credits, and some of the weird, discordant songs.
Every night, at around 8pm, I’d turn on the TV, choose a random episode and let it play through the succeeding episodes until about 9:30pm while the Little Creatures #1 and #2 sit or lie down on the bed to quiet down and watch. Yes, the Little Creature #2 at 14 months (Wow he’s so big now! Forgot to blog about it all! tsk tsk) is also starting to appreciate the amazing worlds that TV has to offer. It’s inevitable since I’m such a TV junkie. I have no plans of banning or limiting TV watching. Ever. As long as I get to decide what to watch.
Thoughts during the first few episodes: Strange. The dog changes shapes. There are zombie candies. What’s with that purple cloud? Such an unattractive character, that cloud. The cloud is a she? So many oddly shaped beings.
What’s going on?
I don’t get it. I really don’t get it.
But after watching so many random episodes so many, many, many times for so many, many, many weeks:
I get it!
Like Masha and Mary Poppins and all the shows (and MTV!) I’ve mentioned above except for the last 3 (not liking them so much), the real reason we’re binge-watching Finn and Jake’s adventures is because I like them maybe even more than my kids do.
At first, my favorite character was Marceline because her singing voice is sooooo breezy and beautiful. Plus, she’s undead. So goth.
But Lumpy Space Princess, or LSP, the purple cloud that I thought was annoying grew on me. And she and I, well, we have a connection. I feel her and her lumps. It all began when I tried talking in her voice to annoy my son. Whenever I say that I am LSP in LSP’s pinched, snooty voice, he’d be annoyed and insist that I’m Marceline (Ah, thank you, son. In his eyes, I may look like the undead, but at least it’s an undead in human form). I wish I could sound like Marceline. Unfortunately, my voice range is very, very, very limited. I do have to admit that I make a good impersonation of LSP. Oh my glob!
4/20/15 Update: Now my son says I’m Finn, he’s Jake, his little brother is Beemo, and his dad’s the Ice King. If he calls me Finn, I’m expected to respond… in Finn’s voice and intonation.
I’ve been snipping this and that from magazine pages lately — whatever stuff I think would look nice in a bottle cap or on a domino. I don’t usually read the articles before. Usually, I only drool over the clothes and shoes and makeup. But because I have to, I began reading some of the texts.
Wow. The words, the phrases, the paragraphs, the articles — how very, ehhh, ornate. Excessively ornate, if they could be described as such. And confusing. Literally.
Use “literally” in a sentence.
That’s from a local fashion magazine. “Literally” was literally used to emphasize somebody’s shining rockstar-ness. Literally a vague intensifier, that one. And that third sentence which literally began with “Her style…” literally feels off, as if there’s literally a word missing or, that another punctuation should have literally been used instead of a comma in the middle of the sentence.
But who am I to snootily correct a popular magazine? I’m really no grammatist. I have committed grammar crimes that would send chills down the spines of my English teachers. Plus, I literally only have two grammar rules: if it sounds and looks good, then it must be correct; and, if you’re not sure, google it. Like, literally.
I’m just feeling bitter and resentful and jealous of those who landed jobs in the field of fashion just by literally stringing 10 superlatives together in a single sentence.
I should be grateful. To be fair, the texts are over-the-top that I have literally more than enough cut-out words stashed for future projects. And also, I came up with this without meaning to — literally a wake up call.
There’s an exacto knife. But why? It does go well with her red complexion. The knife makes me feel paranoid sometimes. It’s so sharp that it seems as if it literally has a life of its own and I’d get stabbed with it by it one day.
Happy Little Creature #1 + Happy Little Creature #2 = happy mom!
Behold! The Little Creatures have been generally agreeable and sweet these days. There are occasional tantrums coming from the bossy #1 which we sort of just ignore know how to deal with now but generally, all is well — and quiet (the calm before the storm, maybe).
Also, I am not being the typical bratty mom these days. In fact, as is evident in my recent posts, I am even able to squeeze in some itty bitty time for arts and crafts.
The Little Creature #1 is a happy little schoolboy who is constantly surprising us with the new things he learns in school.
The Little Creature #2 is almost 6 months old and he’s just the sweetest thing. It may be too early to say but he seems milder in temperament (and easier to take care of) than his older brother. He seems content to play on his own most of the time. He would scream when he’s hungry, of course, but there are times when I would wake up in the middle of the night to find him playing with his pillow or a plush little toy quietly. I would have no idea how long he has been awake. His older brother was never like that. At that age and up until now, upo waking up, he would immediately look around for an audience and demand attention.
I am relishing the temporary peace and quite although I have to admit, this Mother – Toddler & Baby Ceasefire is a little boring. I can’t think of anything to whine write about.
I’m hopping on the typography messaging bandwagon (via powerpoint, it’s the only thing I could do for now). Here’s my first attempt:
Also, this issue about my weight (yesterday’s rant) must bother me more than I let on and more than I realize because I actually spent some precious time creating that message (credit to Doctor Who for the “wibbly-wobbly” and that sort of Tardis blue shade).
And I actually have already written something about my skinny arse in 2010.
Which reminded me of a funny thing —
There is this popular riddle in the Philippines —
“Buto’t balat pero lumilipad.” Skin and bones yet it flies. The answer: a kite.
— which my dad modified… to suit my specs, of course:
“Buto’t balat pero ‘di lumilipad.” Skin and bones but doesn’t fly. The answer: ME. duh.
I thought it was silly. But for some strange reason, I liked it. A riddle about me. Cool!
Hmmm… he also used to say I looked like Yoda. I loved it.
I guess it’s how he said these things. He wasn’t being insulting. And like I said before, it’s just a matter of perspective.
My latest project inspired by my visit to the Comic and Toy Convention last June and those really pretty things in Pinterest:
For the TV series junkie:
I read a lot of articles and watched videos of how-tos which can be found all over the internet so I won’t go into the nitty-gritty stuff anymore. I will just focus on the materials because these are actually the most challenging (and most costly) things to find because there are not a lot of arts and crafts stores in Manila. I have to admit, finding them is part of the fun.
For the charms, I bought the flattened and painted bottle caps (P7.50 without holes; P8.50 with holes. Huh? An additional P1 for a teeny void?) from Schmily’s in Pedro Gil, Sta. Ana. Yehey to me for finding out about the store. I love it! The mom of the owner of the shop even gave me some tips.
I’m giving these charms away as favors on the Little Creature #2’s better-late-than-never baptism on Sunday.
For the magnets, I used those used ones (Little Creature #1’s dragons make an appearance). Sometimes, husband has the oddest connections. He actually knows someone who collects these and he just gave them to me, thank-you-whoever-you-are:
I wanted to learn how to flatten the bottle caps myself so I bought my own rubber mallet (P119.75), my new best friend, my very own Mjollnir!
It took a while but I got the hang of it. They made it look so easy in YouTube: “Use the force, Luke and just whack, whack, whack away on Vader’s imagined little selfie on the caps.” But, nooo. They turned out twisted and crooked. But, oh, what a way to release stress! And tone one bicep.
Thanks to husband for the process improvement.
Quick tips: Spread out the edges of the crowns first by pounding on them carefully before pounding like mad on the center. And sandwich them in between cutting boards so you wouldn’t chuck them off and maybe hit a baby’s face. (thank goodness this hasn’t happened — yet)
It’s not a cheap hobby! Aside from the flattened bottle caps, I bought a 1 inch round hole puncher (P600) for the images (cutting them with scissors sucked) and epoxy stickers (P375 for 50 pieces) which can only be found in Schmily’s, Mod Podge sealant (P400+ I think) and Mod Podge Dimensional Magic (can’t remember how much, around P300-P400, I guess) from Deovir’s in Megamall (also got some tips from the sales guy. He knows what he’s selling. Maybe he’s the proprietor),
Lots of materials from Wellmanson’s in Villalobos, Quiapo (even bought another drill around P500. I can’t find my first one which I bought so many years ago. I found out too late that one could just use a nail to punch a hole into the bottle caps. Darn.),
And many more puffy stickers and papers and Washi tapes and stuff from 168 Mall, Divisoria. That paperbook at the left upper corner? It’s P230 in the arts and craft store in SM Makati. Bought it for only P90 in Divisoria.
Got all these body stickers from a stall outside the Divisoria malls for just P50, tried putting some on a couple of the bottle cap images and they looked cute.
My first pendant was supposed to have the Tardis image but the edge of the Image was jagged so I used this lady from the front cover of the Smashing Pumpkins’ Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness album.
Ehehehe, so I have not moved on from my high school /college grunge, rock ‘n roll days… The image from the “Keep the Faith” album with the hands of my ex-boyfriend Jon Bon Jovi and his band was a fail so I didn’t include it here.
This is so addictive! I want to do these all day! I am thinking of reviving my accessories business with the bottle caps and other upcycled items as my special materials instead of the memory wires this time.
My first very satisfied customer:
He even has his own set of How to Train Your Dragon 2 magnets:
My Pinterest fail:
I was so excited to make something Doctor Who-ish so these were my first projects. Sadly, I drowned the Tardis and the Daleks with too much Dimensional Magic and I didn’t seal the printed designs with the Mod Podge so the color bled. Still experimenting with the techniques. I think I almost got it. Now, I just need to test the durability.
I love having something to focus on other than motherhood (sue me for admitting it!).
Now I get why my friend C is so into Pinterest. It’s inspiring and addictive!
My next D-I-Y Project: soda pop tabs
Art? The bright and offbeat designs of the jeepneys sure are eye-catching. The galvanized metal sometimes serves as the canvas of odd and unlikely combinations of images– holy icons squeezed in between pop culture characters. It isn’t surprising to see a solemn Jesus Christ airbrushed with stick-yer-tongue-out Gene Simmons, or the Blessed Mary beside some chap bearing some semblance to Frodo or Aragon.
Culture? Uh, yeah, if you mean the long-standing problems that we Filipinos have – like the utter lack of discipline and concern for one’s safety.
The drivers, those in the metro in particular, believing themselves as invincible as Jack Bauer (I’ve been binge-watching 24), shift sharply from lane to lane and weave their way between one vehicle to another. Hold on to dear life, people! Simple traffic rules and regulations are rendered ineffective by these moving pieces of s**t soot. Hmmm…sounds sort of like Jack Bauer’s extra-judicial operations. Here’s an extra reason to worry: those whose routes pass through seedy areas are often prone to stick-ups. Lovely.
The drivers are rude, the jeepneys are crowded, smelly, dirty, polluters, and most often, the cause of traffic congestion. Don’t get me started with those in Marcos Highway, Antipolo. Wazzup with the eardrum-shattering techno and rave music and gaudy disco lights?
Obviously, I don’t like them all that much. Unfortunately, for now, I need them.
In all fairness, they’re not all that bad. Non-Filipino readers might get the wrong idea about our country because of my whining so let’s talk about the good stuff and pretend there’s just a big blank on top of this paragraph.
One, they are the cheapest mode of transportation. Your 8 pesos can get you to your destination, yes, still in one piece. If you’re into cheap thrills, let the local Jack Bauers drive you around because they really do drive like Jack Bauer racing against time (if only they look like him, too);
Two, drivers can multi-task and I have to admit, I’m impressed. They can do math and compute the fares and changes in their minds while they snake their way through the traffic and dodge the traffic enforcers – sometimes even conversing with a passenger or an “assistant” beside him;
Three, payment is on a trust basis. If you are 10 hip bones away from the driver, there is always a hand or two nearer to the front that will pass along your fare to the driver. You get your change the same way. I have not encountered a passenger pocketing someone else’s money that was passed on to him or her. Integrity couldn’t be that cheap, could it?
Four, the passengers are almost always ready to assist. If you are not familiar with the place, you can ask someone to let you know if you need to get off;
Five, as is usually the case, the drivers and passengers in the countryside are friendlier and more courteous. If you don’t know the area, you can ask the driver or any of the passengers for sightseeing tips and they are always willing and proud to share something about their hometowns.
Six, when they’re this tiny, what’s not to like?
Now this is art.
Isn’t this the best redeeming factor by far?
One of the things I like about my job is that once in a while I come across a unique vendor, business partner and cool people. I thought I’d come up empty-handed when my supervisor asked me to search for an artist who does customized miniature jeepneys, but boy, did I hit the jackpot when I stumbled upon the artist’s FB page!
His name is Chok Sotto. He uses materials that are used for real jeepneys.
It’s a little pricey at Php4800 (inclusive of shipping, rush fee, and service fee because of the teeny and intricate design on the roof) but it’s such a cool and artistic gift to foreigners. I was almost tempted to tell boss that the jeepney got lost during shipping so I could keep the jeepney for myself. I might ask the artist to design a jeep for me sometime.
If packaged this way – tiny and clean with excellent and high quality craftsmanship, then I definitely agree with that culture and art thing.
In the age where almost everything is mass produced and reproduced and low quality produced, Chok Sotto and his miniature arts stand out. It gives me great pride to have “discovered” him.
It could almost change my mind about my views on the jeepney. Almost…
To Husband on Father’s Day, here is my way of showing my appreciation to your being a good daddy and playmate to our little ones…
xoxoxo
Gifts come in all forms, shapes, and sizes. Some mean something and some are, well, just crap.
xoxoxo
Fatherhood brings several gifts to kids which are way more meaningful than any crappy dust collector.
xoxoxo
One of the most precious gifts that a dad could give is his simply BEING THERE, not just in the traditional, physical sense.
xoxoxo
He throws himself into the activities of his children. He takes part in their upbringing. He loves to shower them with affection. He is not afraid to show his tender side. Being a father means being involved 100%
Often, we see him…
xoxoxo
Teaching the meaning of responsibility by doing chores like gardening;
xoxoxo
Teaching how to appreciate literature and education by reading to his child;
xoxoxo
Being around for some hand-holding even for seemingly itty bitty moments like that first haircut;
xoxoxo
Spending hours to create DIY toys and even building an indoor playground in exchange for a big, bright smile;
xoxoxo
Hanging around to offer support during the Little Creature’s first day in playschool (as if he needed one!)
xoxoxo
“Building bridges”, or in this case, railways for Thomas the Train 😉
xoxoxo
Waking up to catch the early rays for 21 days to sunbathe the Little Creature #2 to cure his jaundice;
xoxoxo
Showing that nurturing is not just done by women by participating in stink elimination (it’s the man thing now!);
xoxoxo
Chauffeuring the bosses around;
xoxoxo
Showing the right way to squash one’s face on the glass;
xoxoxo
Just plain goofing around because it’s ok for him to be silly;
xoxoxo
Being a fart / weewee stinkie sniffer… and a toddler butt station
xoxoxo
Being artsy. It’s not gay. And if it is, so what?
xoxoxo
Co-sleeping (finally! Some downtime!)
xoxoxo
Bulldozing through a crowd of dangerous and frenzied little brats just to have that picture taken with Jollibee;
xoxoxo
Or doing nothing important like staring blankly at chandelier pine cones. What is important is him being around… and loving it.
xoxoxo
Meet the HANDS-ON DAD.
xoxoxo
The HANDS-ON DAD is a HANDSOME DAD.
xoxoxo
The Handsome hands-on dad is one who has dived straight into the cray-cray that is fatherhood, and he has the battle scars to proudly show.
xoxoxo
And this kind of fatherhood, ladies and gents…
xoxoxo
…is the NEW MACHO!
Here’s my attempt at a slideshow:
The Little Creature #1 sometimes likes to hang out with me during the electrically powered milk extraction process in our bedroom. “Mommy, pump!” He would say. He would even mimic the sound of the breast pump. “Said pump — tot-tot-tot-tot!” He would say in halting toddler language. But pumping takes a while and he would get bored after a few minutes. To keep him preoccupied, I decided to let him play with my Sylvanian families and their little house. I got them for myself many years ago because their cuteness were just too hard to resist, although they were mostly just stowed away in some dusty kingdom far, far away and I would just pay them a visit occasionally to check if everyone is ok.
My plan was to let him play only during those times when I have to pump for milk and he is with me as part of our bonding moment and so that I could oversee and ensure that he does not break anything. The little families thrived under the care of the Little Creature #1. The Little Panda went to school, the babies were fed. Everything was a-ok and peaceful and cute. And then it turned ugly.
I lost dominion over the house. I woke up one afternoon to find the Little Creature #1 assembling his pre-historic minions and launching a vicious attack against my little house while the Little Creature #2, his aspiring second-in-command watched along!
The poor little tenants in a mad scramble.
Kookoo birds on the roof make a special appearance, looking as if they were under a spell with their big round, hypnotized eyes…
Here are a couple of scenes straight from the Jurassic Park. Poor Mrs. Bunny Rabbit!
Makes me wonder, if I had a daughter, would she create this kind of scene with her toys? Maybe I’d find Mrs. Bunny Rabbit flirting with Ken or GI Joe or gazing adoringly at a mini poster of One Direction.
My handwriting is like barbed wire. On good days.
On bleh days, it gets scragglier and spikier that it could almost stab a person’s eyes especially when I’m trying to pass off as an engrossed listener taking down notes of humongous importance during meetings when all I want to do on such days is curl up under the conference table and snooze.
Anyway, I was trying to decipher my notes from last week’s meeting hoping to find something useful, but instead I found something odd.
Here are my notes during the Lookback on the Business Continuity Plan Testing Exercises conducted by our office a couple of weeks ago. The meeting was attended by people from IT.
Apparently, we were discussing the plus and delta of internet connectivity, network utilization, toolkits, Business Impact Analysis (BIA), documentations, access…
(here’s a closeup)
…and spaghetti… and maybe meatballs.
Say whuuut?!?! Well, people need food, right? Spaghetti is a great source of carbs and very, very crucial for business continuity.
Looks like I dozed off for a few seconds (I think) with my eyes open (I think) without anyone noticing (I think), dreamed of pasta, and sleep-wrote during those seconds. Blame it on my lack of sleep due to the wonders of motherhood.
This used to happen a lot to me back in school. There was a time in high school when we had to write an essay in Filipino and I dozed off. When I came to, I saw that I had been writing nonsense in English. In college, I used to be able fill the entire Blue Book with essays of nonsense while “hovering” between being awake and sleepiness (and maybe sleep) because I had been too tired from swimming and diving to have time to study about boring politics. Beats me how I was able to graduate at all.
Now I sleep babble, too!
I find telling bedtime stories to the Little Creature #1 a joy, but there are nights when I’d be so taken over with exhaustion. I would continue to prattle on and on and on until I’d doze off… then I’d be jolted awake in the middle of a word or sentence which is entirely unrelated to the story I had been telling at the beginning. I tried to record my storytelling one time so I could hear what weird thing I’d say but it didn’t work. Recording made me self-conscious and wide-awake! One of these days, I’m going to try recording again.
I just could not let this day pass without doing this!
My grandparents passed away a long time ago and only my aunt and cousin live in the big old house and since no one uses the ground floor area so much anymore, we’ve decided to build a temporary playground for the little one, at least until we get a place of our own (I wonder when that is).
Yup, the Little Creature #1 as invaded my grandparents house. He drives away the gloomy, haunted aura of the house with his laughter and noise. It used to feel as if family ghosts are lurking about. Now, only the dinosaurs, both imaginary and synthetic, are roaming about.
6:00 am – 6:45 am: pump for milk (I usually pump for 30-40 minutes for maximum deflation. The extra 5 minutes include the preparation and cleaning up of the breast pump thingies)
6:45 am – 8:00 am: The Little Creature #1 wakes up; breakfast; spend some time with the creatures
8:00 am – 9:00 am: me time or chores time
9:00 am – 9:45 am: pump for milk
9:45 am – 11:30 am: sleep
11:30 am – 12:00nn: shower
12:00 nn – 12:45 pm: pump for milk; there’s no such thing as lunch anymore
12:45 pm – 1:45 pm: read and sing to the Little Creature #1 for his afternoon nap
1:45 pm – 3:00 pm: chores (there always seems to be something to do)
3:00 pm – 3:45 pm: pump for milk; the Little Creature #1 wakes up; spend time with him while pumping
3:45 pm – 6:00 pm: spend time with the little creatures
6:00 pm – 6:45 pm: pump for milk
6:45 pm – 8:00 pm: dinner; nannies prepare the kids for bedtime
8:00 pm – 9:00 pm: read bedtime stories and sing to the Little Creature #1 while keeping fingers crossed that the Little Creature #2 will not wake up
9:00 pm – 9:45 pm: pump for milk; Little Creature #2 wakes up sometimes to be breastfed
9:45 pm – 10:00 pm: breastfeed if the Little Creature #2 wakes up or me time if he doesn’t
10:00 pm- 11:00 pm: shower; nightly vanity rituals
11:00 pm – 12:00mn: me time; nap if possible
12:00 mn – 12:45 am: pump for milk
12:45 am – 3:00 am: sleep if possible
3:00 am – 3:45 am: pump for milk
3:45 am – 6:00 am: sleep if possible (It is a struggle to get up in the wee hours of the morning to pump so there are times when I would just stay up and do some chores or stare into space while I wait for my next pumping schedule)
And that is how my routine is these days – a cycle that revolves around the pumping schedules. Sometimes, especially on weekends, I would gain mommy-time-lordette superpowers and be able to magically squeeze in 2- 3 hours a day for “me” time and go malling. But “me” time logistics away from home could be such a hassle. It involves lugging my cooler bag, ice packs, baby bottles, and pump and ensuring that the breastfeeding stations are accessible.
For someone who values time more than anything else , not having the luxury of it is frustrating. But I seem to have adjusted to such a routine. It just takes careful timing of the tasks. Sometimes, though, I get so obsessive about the timing that whenever I deviate from it, say I slept through a pumping schedule, I’d feel frustrated with myself, like I did some bad thing or something.
The lack of understanding and support from the people I hoped to count on is what makes it heartbreaking. I whine a little, I get mad a little, and already, I’m the Drama Queen. I ask for a little privacy during my pumping sessions and I’m being the demanding Diva. I look forward to that time in the middle of the night when everyone is asleep and I can be alone in my little corner, without Husband hogging my space and the Little Creature #1 staring at me, pointing and saying, “mommy, pump!”
People think that I have it so easy because I am on maternity leave and hence on “vacation”. I know I should cut them some slack. If I had never been in this situation, I wouldn’t get it either. It just gets frustrating sometimes.
The Little Creature #2 is the purpose for my leave of course, but I had been obsessively pumping and storing milk and focusing my attention on his demanding older brother that I realize that I actually had barely time for him! Husband and the nanny take care of him most of the time.
My maternity leave ends today, by the way. Tomorrow, I get back to work. It would be nice to see friends again. But now I have to adjust my work schedule to fit the pumping sessions once more. Just when I had gotten used to my routine. Aaargh.
Bedtime used to be war time.
The Little Creature used to hate going to sleep. It must have been because of the iPad and the TV.
Ok, so some months ago, I had to admit, I sort of treated the iPad and the TV like some electronic nanny for my toddler and made excuses for being such a lazy, lousy parent. Sure, it did work to keep the Little Creature #1 preoccupied and it did feel like the iPad helped him develop his motor and mental skills. But after a while, it felt like that was all he did, watch Youtube and cartoons and play with the iPad all afternoon. He became so obsessed with the iPad that it got to the point that it became a struggle to make him go to sleep. The bedroom was a battleground and he hated it. He would fall asleep crying, “iPad! iPad! iPad!”. It left me exhausted and frustrated. I so wanted to introduce him to books, to read him bedtime stories, but the books meant nothing to him.
So we decided to make the iPad “disappear” one day. We told him that it got lost and the TV was out of order. And I became Mother Pol Pot. People thought I was crazy and cruel. I ignored them and I ignored the Little Creature’s woeful wailing for the iPad. I bought a couple of books with Disney characters because he was familiar with them, especially the “Cars” ones, and began to read to him. He didn’t like it at first. But gradually ( I guess because he had no choice), he began to get interested.
Then one day, I don’t know exactly when, it just happened. He began to look forward to bedtime. I don’t have to force him to go to sleep anymore. I would tell him that it was time for sleep and he would go with me. “Mommy, read a book!” He would say. I would tell him to get a book from his small but growing collection and these are usually his picks.
For some reason, Dr. Seuss’ “Oh, the Thinks You Can Think!” cracks him up.
My friend C gave him “The Dangerous Alphabet” book by Neil Gaiman and he likes to look at the monsters and zombies in the book, too. I try to make the monsters and ghosts and ghouls silly and funny so he wouldn’t get scared.
He loves looking at the pictures of the books. Sometimes, I would invent nonsensical stories based on the pictures. I would turn the lights off, but he would insist that I continue to read to him. Since it isn’t completely dark, he still likes to see a silhouette of me holding an open book and to hear me talk nonsense as if still reading the book until he falls asleep.
My throat would go dry from talking (and singing!) to him every night but I look forward to his bedtime as much as he does now.
I love putting him to sleep. Moments like those make me feel so triumphant.
Looks like I did something right again! Boo-yah!
The first time the Little Creature #1 saw the potty that we bought for him, this is what he did.
He would also put his toys inside.
So this is what we did:
*Warning: yucky thing ahead*
One of my brightest and yuckiest ideas yet.
Those are fake poops, of course. He had a good laugh and he finally understood what the potty was for when he saw them. He still poops and pees in his diapers but a couple of times, he tells us or his nanny when he wants to go potty. At least my idea seems to work — a little bit.
Mom friends whom I asked advice from told me to be patient.
I was initially frustrated because I again assumed wrongly that potty training isn’t all that hard. But I quit stressing about it. After all, he should “get it” eventually — hopefully waaaay before he starts liking girls!
Buried beneath my clutter I found a musty, old letter that my dad wrote to me back when I turned 6. I love my clutter. I love rediscovering stuff I had forgotten I had.
Back then, my dad was still a junior officer in the Philippine Navy and was always at sea or at some coast or at some pier. We seldom saw him but whenever he was around, I vaguely recall him bringing us aboard docked naval vessels whenever he was in Manila or Cavite. The distinct scent of navy ships — the addictive smell of fuel or oil combined with the smell of the rusty iron walls and saltwater — , the rhythmic humming of the engines, their vibrations, and the gentle rolling of the ships underneath the feet are familiar elements of our childhood. It is of little wonder that my brother’s hobby is building scale model naval ships (the smell of the adhesive must somehow remind him of the smell of the ships). I, on the other hand, was into naval officers/men in uniform ended up being married to a naval officer-turned marine-turned rebel soldier-turned my aide-de-camp. We met on a ship, by the way, and people were not surprised.
A lovely birthday greeting straight from 1983… and how touching. I can imagine my dad missing us and longing to go home. Life at sea could be so lonely, especially if one had a cute daughter he couldn’t come home to!
(And on Michael C. Hall’s birthday, too)
See you in a few hours, little one!
I’ve been complaining of boredom a few days into my medical leave but after more than a week of staying at home, most of the time in bed staring at the clock, just waiting for my C-section date of February 1, I am starting to get used to it. Here is the opportunity to realize my ultimate dream of being a couch potato! Unfortunately, as the title of this post says, I think I’m turning into my husband!
See?!?!
#1: I’ve been grunting and groaning and heaving every time I get out of bed, get into bed, get up from a chair, take a step, or move even for just a teeny bit. I wish I could claim that they sound like the sexy grunts coming from those hot tennis pros on the court but sadly, the primitive sounds coming out of me sound more like those made by huge, sweaty, oily-bodied muscle heads at the local gym. Of course I can’t see myself but with each sound and movement, I could feel my face scrunching into that tight, tortured expression of one who is seriously constipated, too.
#2: My brows are a mess and I don’t care.
#3: After living in hubby’s shirts and shorts for many days now, I have come to the point that I don’t ever want to get out of them anymore. I never knew they could be so comfy! Being a female (and smelling like one) just takes too much effort. Normally, I love dressing up, but for my check up the other day (Baby #2 is hanging on and looking healthy, by the way, which is wonderful), I had to force myself to spruce up a bit (and take a bath. Yeah, I know, gross).
And the ultimate sign…
#4: I was mistaken for a guy! True story: Hubby drove me to a convenience store the other day. I was of course, in my signature big shirt and hubby jersey shorts (and trainers). When we parked in front of the store, the security guard opened the passenger door for me and then addressed me as “sir”. It must have been my getup because I know I wasn’t sporting a shadow beard. Weird, though. He didn’t even correct himself when I got out. Did he actually think that I was some underdeveloped guy with a beer belly?!?! I know I’m probably going to regret posting this picture later on but this is what I looked like.
Errrr, ok, so maybe I can’t entirely blame the guard for his mistake, with me looking like hubby’s drinking buddy. Anyway, I’ve got three more days to go and I’m ready to rock and pop and hopefully act like a girly mom again! Doc says I’m going to make it to the February 1 C-section schedule after all. What a relief.
I’m dedicating this panel to my teammates at work even if they do not know about this blog. I hear the comments below most of the time from them and deep down I don’t mind because I know they just worry about me. But I do get pissed off when I hear comments about my health from “hallway” colleagues (people I bump into who think they know my health better than me and my doctor.) Even more annoying, there was a time during my first pregnancy when the Starbucks barista refused to serve me coffee!
I give up. If you can’t beat them…
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