Long overdue tribute to my father.

He wanted to be an engineer. But life was hard and he had two sons to support. Working as a tailor during the day, he went to night school and took up Education instead. He graduated and became a teacher when his eldest son finished primary school.


He had his life mapped out without room for errors, because he knew that one miscalculated step could break his dream of a decent future for his family. He was uptight, he was strict, he seldom showed emotion because emotions cloud reason, and he did things with as much accuracy and perfection as possible, as much as he could.

This was my father.

He demanded a lot from us, especially from my brothers.

One anecdote that my eldest brother loves repeating to us was the time Papa talked to him when he was about to enter college. Papa asked him not to fail any subject, it did not matter if it was a major or minor subject, because if he failed a subject, he would extend school and it would, in turn, delay my other brother’s entry to college (My parents had spaced the birth of my brothers by five years because they could not send both children to college simultaneously).

And my brother did just that, and so did my other siblings.

With the very few resources that my parents had, they made sure that we did not lack on everything we need, and they were able to send and have all four of us graduate in the best schools in the province.

My siblings used to tell me that Papa was not as strict with me as he was with them when they were growing up. Still, there had been times in the past when I kept on wishing that he’d be like other fathers who give their children money as baon in school, who allow their kids to play with others in the neighborhood, who do not demand explanations for less than stellar grades in Math and English, who allow their teenage girls to party with no 11pm curfews.

He was strict, there was no mistaking that. He was the kind of father you do not want to disappoint. And although he used to censure us openly, he was also proudest whenever he talks to his friends about his children – about us.

He kept all of my medals, certificates, awards, from the time I started school and showed them to friends every opportunity that he gets. He saved copies of every single issue of our school paper where my name was mentioned – be it an article where I was cited in passing or one where I appeared in the byline – he saved them all. He even kept my high school poems which were so baduy I cringe just remembering how awful the quality of my writing was.

He cried when I passed the CPA Board Exams. I told him then that my grades weren’t that impressive. It did not matter though, he was still ecstatic.

It has been five years since he died, and this is the first time that I am writing about him.

I miss him.

Now that I am starting my own family, the totality and magnitude of all that my father had given and given up for us dawned on me. And I am scared that I won’t be able to measure up. I now have my own little boy who I hope to raise the same way we were raised. And I hope that, just like my parents moved heaven and earth to provide the best for us, I and the husband* would also be able to do the same for Qube and our future kids.

Almost six (teeth) , almost one.

Here's Qube, as of three days ago:

A happy friday smile for everyone!

 

Back with a vengeance

It has been a crazy month for me at work, and an especially crazy couple of weeks of board meetings and report preparation. Plus the fact that i had been too lazy to write these past few weeks.

And no, i am not pregnant. (I had to insert this statement because people at work have been joking around that i might be pregnant again due to my recent healthy food fad)

Now, move on to more important things.

Qube has already turned 11 months and I was not able to chronicle his 9-10 milestones. His social initiation officially started at 9 months and he's been doing great in all parties that he has been into. I hope he'll be as bubbly during his own party come December.

Here's a list of Qube's "big ticket" events that I was not able to write about:

• First Family Day at ALI (September 30) - This will be the first of (hopefully) many happy family days in ALI that I will celebrate with Qube and his dad. And the highlight of this day's event? Qube winning the youngest male guest award! Nevernind that he was not really the youngest there, because as I was about to run up the stage to claim our prize, I saw several infant guests who, I am sure, are way way younger than my Qube. I therefore conclude that those kids were late for the registration.

• First birthday / costume party @ Uno (October 8 or 15) - First birthday party attendance and first time to meet Papa's friends and their kids, Qube's future drinking buddies, I suppose.

• First ever concert: LIBERA @ the Cultural Center of the Philippines (October 25) - Christmas began early as the family watched Libera's Christmas concert. Our reason for watching? These kids' songs serve as Qube's lullabye even before he was born. He must have realized too that the sound seems familiar because he started shouting and singing along amid the stillness of the crowd. It was amusing, of course, but the ushers apparently weren't as amused as I was because they later on came to tell us to hold Qube's version of "Joy to the World" to some other time. Well, not exactly, but it was to that effect.




• First swimming party @ Tita Hershey's chubhouse (October 31) - Maybe it was the prersence of other kids, maybe because Kuya Jigs was still there swimming and playing. Or maybe Qube is just a water person, because he did not want to leave the pool even when his fingers and toes had already shrunk from being submerged in water for quite a time. And this swimming proved to be just the first of other similar events. (However, no photo to show for this because we did not yet have the money to buy the high-end, high-powered camera that I want)

• First Halloween party at ALI (October 28) - My little devil donned in a little red devil costume. And he brought home a witch's pot full of candies which he could not eat anyway.

• First movie in a cinema: HAPPY FEET in Glorietta 4 (November 26) - It would have been “Puss in Boots” in Greenbelt. But when we went there a few weeks ago to watch (because we did not check the schedule online), we were dismayed to know that we arrived past the last screening time on that Sunday night. So, when we decided to watch “Happy Feet 2”, we were at the malls as early as 11am to ensure that we would not miss the movie and to get the best possible seats. Everything was according to plan, except that when we were about to enter the cinema, the guards blocked us because we only have four tickets, and those tickets are for me, Papa, Tita Let and Yaya. They were asking us to purchase a ticket for Qube, who is 11months old and who was even asleep when we entered! To make the long story short, and because a queue is already forming outside, we gave in and just asked Tita Let to go to the booths to buy another ticket.

And because Qube paid for his ticket, he now had the right to shout to his heart's content and enjoy the movie any way he wants! That he did, and neither I nor Papa made any effort to stop him. Afterall, there is an extra unoccupied seat that we were asked to pay for. Surely, Qube's way of enjoying the movie would not inconvenience anyone.

When I see you smile...

I see your upper incisors cutting through.


So expect that in a few more days, Qube's smiles will have a totally different look.

Though I am sure that they will be just as lovely.

Something's ringing in my ears and it's not my conscience

That is the reason why I found myself queuing impatiently at Patients First in Glorietta 3 yesterday after work.

I thought it would be just another regular check-up: vitals, weight, few minutes of Q&A, write my prescription, done.

But it turned out my dilemma is more complicated than I thought it was.

First, I was checked by an MD who asked me to undergo an x-ray exam.

Okay.

But it took forever for the laboratory folks to call me. And when I was eventually X-rayed, they have to redo two of the three perspectives / angles because they were blurry. So, I waited for a few more minutes before going through another round of x-ray. Only to be told that the result won't be coming out until Saturday, but that I have to check with an ENT doctor anyway.

The ENT lady doctor was nice. Asked me sorts of questions. I repeated what I told the other doctor: headache, ringing and pressure in my ears, no colds. She asked me how I am doing with my breastfeeding. Told her I just quit pumping during work hours, but that I still night feed and pump at home, after work. Just so she knows I won't take steroids, if she's thinking of giving me one.

Now, just so she knows what is really wrong with me - she suspects that I have blocked sinuses - she told me that she has to check my frontal sinuses with a nasal endoscope. Then she showed me this:

And I wished so hard that I did not leave Noi to wait outside, while I will be (in my mind) lobotomized in this office. He did not see me suffer in the labor room when I gave birth to our son, he should at least see this being inserted into my nostrils!

When it was done, she drew little circles in her medical report / record to probably capture in paper the appearance of my sinuses. No masses, thank God. But she said that the mucus need to dry up. Apparently, I had been living with stuffed sinuses for most of my life. I was given antibiotics and nasal spray to de-clog my sinuses, and I was assured that they are safe even while breast feeding.


And the X-ray? She said that I no longer need one. Because I already had nasal endoscopy and she's seen all that she needs to see to give me a diagnosis.

The two-hour wait at the laboratory came back to me and I almost feel a rising anger towards the first doctor who checked me and recommended the X-ray.

There was no way to compromise, so now we're living SEPARATE LIVES.

 
My Medela sits forlorn on top of our dinner table.

And there's a part of me that feels guilty each morning when I leave without my not-so-little black bag that has become my closest companion since I resumed work after my two-month maternity leave.

Before this week, the longest goodbye that I could endure between me and my Medela Swing is four hours. Beyond this length of time is inconceivable. Long separations from it are literally painful and heavy to the chest.

So, you see, this relationship is really very intimate and is incomparable to anything I have had or am still having with anyone. You can even say that I have been too clingy and dependent in this case. And this has been going on for more than nine months, which is also longer than most past relationships that I've had.

Most importantly, this is the only relationship that did not disappoint me. All that was promised, it delivered. It gave and did not take anything in return. (Well, except for my initial investment which is, of course, necessary in every relationship.) It secured for me unrivaled benefits that not even the father of my son could provide.

But numerous demands at work leave me no time to nurture this relationship. That is why I have to give this up.

But no, this is not total non-commitment - because, as in all relationships, getting over does not happen overnight. And, in my case, I relapse much too often.

So, every night, when I arrive home from work - after kissing my Qube and asking how his day was - I lock myself up in our bedroom to have a little private time with my Medela.

And emerge right back with two 5-ounce bottles full of breast milk.To be stored for Qube's consumption the following morning.


Footnote: Despite having given up my pump-at-work routine, I am still night nursing Qube, and hope to do so in the months to come.

On being starstruck.

I was walking to the office this morning when I noticed Chris Tiu staring at me. I turned around to confirm if it was really Chris Tiu - and yes, it was him! And he was following me with his gaze.

Too taken aback, I did not immediately notice that there were several other stars with him at the Ayala - Makati Ave. underground walkway. Kris Aquino was there, Matteo Guidicelli, Derek Ramsey, Chris Villonco, and several other well-known personalities. I think even Manny Pacquiao was there.


But I did not really care about everyone else. Chris Tiu was looking at me, and it was all that mattered. I knew there and then that I'll have a great day ahead of me.



















Oh, and yes. Here is the photo of Chris Tiu promoting Habitat for Humanities at the Ayala walkway.

You got me stranded (in your smile).

Reposted from my facebook notes. Dated May 22, 2011

Just this morning, you flashed me your beautiful toothless grin and there, I decided I want to spend another hour in bed with you – all the while knowing that by doing so, I’d have to cramp taking a bath, getting dressed, kissing you and your Papa goodbye into the 10-minute window I have left before heading to work, then returning from the door to give you another round of kisses.

And just this morning, while walking down the flight of stairs from 501, I thought of how much you’ve grown from the 4-pound little boy that we brought home from the hospital last December 24. You can now sit by yourself in your wheels (that is how your papa and I refer to your stroller) – a milestone that I proudly shared to my fellow moms at work – my Qube is becoming independent na.

I remembered how small and fragile you were when we brought you home. And you were yellow – as in jaundiced yellow.

Sunbathing to remove the yellow.

Qube at 8 days.

But being the little fighter that you are, you got over the jaundice, grown at the pace that your pedia has had a hard time believing, and turned into quite a looker. In fact, as early as now, girls already swoon over you. Of course, I am on top of the list. The English-speaking-pretty-five-or- something-little girl in BHS who came from nowhere and started kissing you the last time we were there,  the strangers who stop us in malls and at the airport to greet you and to ask if you are of foreign blood and not to be outdone are your Lolas and Titas who are understandably biased towards you.

There are many other small things about you that I should have written from day one. But I got so engrossed witnessing and marveling at your day to day growth that I couldn’t get myself to leave you, to write. Besides, we take photos of you every day… and if there’s any truth to the saying that a picture paints a thousand words, there would be several volumes of books about you by now.

But you see, I realized that it’s not enough. So while you are asleep beside me, I decided to start writing. And there will be separate stories about your first smile, your first turn, your refusal to do “close-open” until now and your papa’s insistence that it’s still too early to push you to “close-open” your hands, your first real laugh, your excitement when you want me to get/hold you, and many many others.

Happy fifth month Qube.

a lazy friday is the perfect ending to a busy, busy week.

I have been told that the effect of my epidural extends beyond childbirth, so before it eats away my memory, here's my Friday list: Qube's toys, teethers, food, the firsts that i have not yet written about in my previous blog posts. 

Welcome home gift from the hospital - from Kuya Jigz, first toy ever! Qube's activity with Spongebob mainly consist of biting both hands and feet, and all protruding parts that he could get his teeth on.

  

First Happy Christmas gift from Tita Monita. He uses these pails as baskets to shoot his mini basketballs.

 

First stuffed best friend: Panda Q., from Papa's last Macau trip.

After a while, his interests shifted to this ugly Leopard fiend from Animaland: 

And eventually, with his legion:

First food tasted (from Auntie Glen, with some  pamahiin to go with why it should be the first food taste)

First food feeder. Because I could not bear seeing him look at us longingly every meal time, I bought this from Munchkins. We just put fruit pieces inside, then have him chew away to get the juice. This helped me worry less about choking.  

This worked for about 2 weeks, but after that he wanted to directly eat his fruits.

 . 

First teether. Thought of buying this because Qube developed the habit of biting everything within biting distance.

Bought also but he hated these:

So when the fish died (probably by overuse), i bought these:

And his first real food, but it did not take long for him to realize that he hates the taste.

So, we tried this and he loved it:

and he loved these other variants as well:

Now, he eats everything: Real rice, real squash, carrots, potatoes, papaya, chili leaves, chicken tinola, pork sinigang, fita, skyflakes, everything that his father approves.

And he plays with everything: Isoprophyl Alcohol, my office ID, TV remote control, everybody's mobile phones, his face and hand wipes, diapers, his hand sanitizer, and all others that he could get his hands into.

And a few years from now, when Qube starts asking, I'll give him a link to this blog. 

Good Jobs, Steve!

Or more appropriately,

Goodbye, Steve Jobs.

It will be a long time before the world finds a genius that will match yours.
Thank you for changing the world.

You're turning me on, you turn me around....

You turn my whole world upside down:

You know...

You turn me upside down.....

Just pausing for a break from a busy busy day.

Found this photo among my mobile media files - taken a few months back.
I also remembered writing this before giving birth, which does not even begin to define how it really feels now that Qube is really here. :)

Whatever happened to "malasakit"?

Apparently, everybody has gone home.
Schools, offices, both government and private.


Everybody but us. And yet, we are a company who boasts of having utmost concern for our people.

Oh well, times have changed. And i am not just talking about being sent home during storms. :(