Re-living

The challenge of the busy and crowded streets leading to the schools had me counting the days for the winter break to start, and today is the day that I am temporarily relieved of the morning left turn struggles to make sure Lemuel makes it to class on time, bring Abraham to his, then finally me – to work.

Its going to be a relaxing short drive to work starting the 26^th but me acting “emo” (this is how they brand emotional teenagers at middle school) is having a pinch of missing the youth atmosphere already. I am going to miss that group of long-haired pretty lass mirroring me when I was young (uggh! Indulge me) standing by the gate. I am going to miss those boys greeting with Hey Bro! or the formal handshakes of the geeks (I bet they are in Magnet class like Lemuel) when they meet in the morning. I’m going to miss the elites, those who arrive in cool rides, and clad in branded outfits from head to toe. I am going to miss the look of youth.

You may wonder, how long do I park on the street to witness all these? Twenty seconds maybe, or just enough that Lemuel and Abraham can get off the car. But as I approach the school gate and as I leave, my eyes wander around a lot, looking for similarities of the youth back in my time and now. I am re-living my own youth in my mind. Maybe I am really getting old because I delight in the long gone memories of my happy carefree days.

************

WISDOM OF THE YOUTH (a while driving scene - Brack took an alternate route to our destination…)

Me: Why did you pass this way? It’s going to take a lot of time…
Brack: It’s the same distance.
Abraham: Yes Mommy, it’s the same and you get to see beautiful houses (while cruising Windsor Square). You loved to look at beautiful houses right?
Me: I do, but nothing will happen because I am not buying.
Abraham: And why do you enjoy window shopping? It’s the same thing, you look, spend time, but don’t buy.
Me: (quiet)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THIS WITTY TEEN!

************

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL AND A GOOD AND HEALTHY NEW YEAR!

what's the upside?

There are times when your nerves make it hard for you to remember to be thankful for having children especially when your little dragons at home start to breathe-out fire. However, under normal circumstances, I still think being a parent is priceless. It has its payoffs that compensates for the pains and heartaches of child-rearing.

Children bring certain happiness to their parents even without trying or exerting extra effort. Parents are crazy about their kids - just seeing them having fun and enjoying life, or thinking about what will they become as they grow older. It doesn’t matter if their children resents it, parents delight in being overly involved with their children’s life, and even if they macro manage at work, they practice 100 % micromanagement when it comes to their children’s affairs.

What do children give their parents? For me the biggest upside of being a parent when the kids are at their tender age is the experience of innocent love, it is also the time you feel their total surrender. This stage brings extra happiness to control-freak parents (I’m not!), unfortunately, this doesn’t last long. There is also the experience of innocent wisdom, the time when you savor the words and opinions of your youngsters as precious treasure, like everything that comes out of their mouth clicks.

I have two boys at their puberties. I heard from other parents who have children passed this stage that this is the most challenging period for them. They talked about their difficult times, their complaints when their kids were teenagers, but didn’t mention a single moment of the joys of parenthood during the time. I guessed, a case of overlook, parents were overwhelmed with the downside, they forgot the good times.

It might be premature for me to speak about the rewards of parenthood at this stage when children are at their teens, but so far from experience, it is positively rewarding. This is the stage that I am learning from them about everything, a million things, from their perspective. Interestingly enough, some of them, I never encountered or heard of in my whole existence. Being a tech person, this is also the time that I am starting to rely on my kids, they have natural gift in running electronics without reading the manuals. This is the time they begin to express themselves and on certain occasions, challenge your viewpoints and tests your authority. It takes a stretch of patience and an open mind to deal with but once managed, adds up to the fulfilling moments of parenthood.

The joys and pains, the color and the drama, you'll find altogether in one package called CHILDREN.

(I got inspired to write this entry because of a recent scenario which I'm writing about next. Till next blog!)

electric shock

I’m highly static -- to the point that you can see a spark, or in some instances, even hear a sound, when my finger touches metal objects. I have developed static paranoia and I am not happy. I’m scared to touch metal door handles; I avoid doing so, unless I have no choice. I look like a complete fool using tissue paper, heavy duty pens, or my foot (in case of lower drawers) to open the metal filing cabinets at the office. I don’t like that it scratches my shoes. I get tired explaining to people why I need tissue paper to pull out my files. I hate that I kick the door of my car instead of grabbing it by the handle to close it. I hope my neighbors are not looking or they will see me opening the gate with my foot and kicking it sideways to close. (Sigh…)

Being static is not funny, it is painful, and it is draining my energy. Imagine how much mental agony it brings when you anticipate a shock and to calm yourself after it actually happens? How come some people are more static than others? Is there a cure? I wonder how many out there are like me. I will Google more about it.

Piece of thought (Part 2)

Fast learner
I’m a fast learner. After spending a couple of hours on my new job last Monday, I already picked it up ---I learned it’s not the job for me. The following day, I did an express exit – first person in the HR room, surrendered my badge, parking pass, and grabbed my flower vase.

Pick-up line - Scene 1

Passing by Starbucks at 7th and Fig with a co-worker, a guy approached and said, “Can you bring the sunshine back?” I can't ignore such a good looking creature so I quickly replied, “Sure, why not? I’ll wish on my wedding ring!”
(A guy sitting nearby having coffee was laughing quietly)

Men!!! His ice breaker might work ---if said fifteen years ago :-)

Pick-up line - Scene 2

I stood in line behind a man waiting to order some pies at Marie Callender’s. He glanced one, he glanced twice, he smiled…and finally spoke.

He said: I love ‘em all (referring to the pies). What about you? Which one do you like?
I said: Hmmm…I like most of them too. In fact the family couldn’t agree on one or two flavors alone so I’m getting one for my husband, one each for my 2 kids, and one for myself.
He said: Oh…

(The smile disappeared, glanced no more)

Total insecurity

Incidents like the above I tell Brack. I’m such an attention-seeker I enjoy making him jealous, but he doesn’t. In the end, I get more insecure…usually ends up asking...”Dad, do you still love me?”

Hands on the wheel, eyes on the road

I’m getting paranoid with people on their cell phones while driving. I almost got into a head-on collision with a man who took almost half my side of the lane because he got his cell on one hand, and obviously, all his attention on his cell talk, while making a left turn. I’m sure his insurance company won’t be happy if they knew.

A dose of caffeine

I was never a coffee drinker, not until late last year, which is not normal in a coffee-drinking country like the US. Now, the stainless coffee mug is a regular on my desk. I hope my dentist won’t mind :-)

*****************
This is what happens when my brain is not fertile enough to produce a sensible entry…

‘Till I’m no longer lost in my thoughts…

Lost in transition

On Monday I’ll be starting with my new job.

This morning I received my “goodbye” paperwork from our HR Director.

Tomorrow I’ll get my final paycheck.

This hour I wanted to blog about a lot of things but the keyboard won’t type by itself.

This time is not easy…I poured a lot of me into my current job.

I need to recharge…’till next entry.

what happens in transition...

Two of my friends from way back changed jobs, rather, changed employers or moved to different industries, but does the same things they did for their entire career. Brack had the same experience last month when he left his job of six years but is now adjusted to his new environ. I hopped into the bandwagon and come Monday of next month will breakaway from the boundaries that kept me sober and firm for the last five and a half years. I am stepping-out of my comfort zone.

My lawyer-boss, whom I will still continue to work with as a contractor once I start my full time job at the other company, said I’ll be fine. A former boss who is my biggest fan when it comes to work said, I shouldn’t worry as I am good with everything. He said, I am like a Genie who gives him what he needs in a stroke of a lamp. I’d like to fill my head with their complements but I’ll be doing something I haven’t done in many years, despite it being my Bachelor’s. I’ll be learning (and need to catch up fast), two accounting application software.

Right now my subconscious is integrating my new position into the system. I’m having vivid dreams of invoices and financial statements.

piece of thought...

New York shoes

Last Tuesday I got off work 15 minutes later than usual, I rushed-out the elevator and my heels went tak tak tak tak as it touches the marble floors of Figueroa Tower’s famous Sky Lobby. I passed by a man and a woman both in power clothes, the guy turned his head towards me and said “Hmmm…New York Shoes.” I smiled and continued walking with the echo of my heels’ tak tak…I wanted to tell the guy my Kenneth Cole are not New York shoes, they are mother’s shoes (rushing home).

Power Dressing

Speaking of the man and the woman above, I admire men and women who power dress. I'd like to dress like them but my income restricts me…sad. I just dress within the confines of my salary level.

Power Eater

Speaking of power, I am a power eater. At home and at work, I eat fast. All you can eat buffet don’t count.

Tail-gaiters

I don’t like them. One afternoon as I approach the freeway entrance, a truck in front of me suddenly stopped, thanks to my courtesy, I was able to manage a smooth stop. The man behind stepped on his breaks, screeched his tires so loud, and left only a hair-thin space between my bumper and his. We were both stunned for a few seconds…then he maintained his distance.

desperate comment

I’m one of the 51, 830 people who signed the petition and I am one of the millions who think the one-paragraph apology by ABC is not enough to erase the impact of the unfounded derogatory remarks by Teri Hatcher’s character in one of Desperate Housewives’ episode. ABC claimed they are committed to present sensitive and respectful images of all communities in its programs. Obviously they don't practice their creed.

seasons change...people change

Fall kicks-off today; as the day gets shorter and the air gets cooler, a reflection crossed my mind, hence, borrowed these lines...

Que sera, sera, what ever will be, will be
The future’s not ours to see
Que sera, sera, what will be, will be

I have grown older, in fact much older, that by this time, should have some certainties as to what my (remaining) future will be and what's in store for me. But as I age and acquire more experiences in life, my attitude had changed from being focused with the future to living by the moment and leaving the rest to fate. With this mindset, I get satisfaction in the offerings of the present, enjoyed slowing-down and appreciating what is here now. It is a relief to give up worrying on what the future might bring.

Seasons change, people change, attitudes change, values change…for the better I hope.

new look

Some kind of virus forced me to give my blog a new look...some kind of agony pushed me to cut my hair short...

I'm enjoying the new look.

my sutures' gift

I had 2 C-Section deliveries and my last suture was more than a decade ago. I bear a permanent scar which is neither ugly nor lovely to look at, but since then I have learned to love.

In the past eight years or so that I am consciously observing the effects of the sutures, I confirmed I acquired the ability to predict shifts in temperature at least three days in advance through the experience of mild and bearable uteral suture pains. If it is hot today and it’s going to be colder in the coming 3 days, expect that I can sense it.

With the weather channel and the internet providing us with 10-day weather predictions, there is nothing spectacular with my acquired “ability,” but to me, this anatomical weather gauge comes really handy and useful. And although it doesn’t really register a reading, the prediction is always accurate.

In for C-Section ladies?

the impact of a goodbye

If you’re not a politician nor a movie star, just an ordinary person, the day you are lowered beneath the green grass, you will know if you have served your purpose in life and how much you’re loved depending on the number of people who showed up for your service and based on what they say about you. If the number is great and the comments are positive, then you rest in peace even happier. Sad if it is otherwise, at least you are gone anyways.

A relative passed away recently. The visitation chapel was full; the church for the final service was nearly full as well. People of different races were there, Catholics and Non-Catholics alike, united solemnly, paying their last respects. How did the departed managed to make all these people appreciate his existence so much? What was his formula for living life in successful harmony with those he came in contact with? He was a genius, smart and capable of doing a lot of things, yet exceptionally humble. He is quiet and private yet approachable and always ready to help. Never a complainer or a critic, he lived simply and honestly. People burst in tears, me included, upon hearing his favorite song played last.

When I find myself in times of trouble, mother Mary comes to me,

speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me,

speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.

Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree,

there will be an answer, let it be.

For though they may be parted there is still a chance that they will see,

there will be an answer. let it be. Let it be, let it be…

And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light, that shines on me,

shine until tomorrow, let it be.

I wake up to the sound of music, mother Mary comes to me,

speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

Let it be, let it be.

The departed left the family with too much crying, he left me with important lessons in life to work on until my final hour. I thought to myself, if only half of the number of people there will show up in mine, if only half of the number of people who will show up truly appreciated my existence, if only half of the number of people who will show up will say I have impacted their lives in a good way, then it will be the happiest passing.

(In honor of Ike...we'll remember)

...not that I like Homer

Just want to laugh my worries away! I love Lisa though!

The Children's Bedroom

If you are a parent, have you ever tried sleeping or napping in your children’s bedroom? I did. Once or twice too many, in the afternoon for siesta, or at night when I’m exhausted. Although, I don’t really sleep there overnight, the few hours or even minutes that I spend lying on any of my children’s bed is truly restful and savvy. I don’t know what magnetic appeal the room has but my mind and body drifts away to sleep instantly upon closing my eyes, a far cry from tossing and turning, trips to the restroom, looking at the clock, flipping and tapping my pillows, and all the difficulties I experience trying to make a sleep when I’m in our matrimonial bedroom. A few years back I mentioned this observation to Abraham and he articulated that I am so restful in their bedroom because it is a children’s room, children doesn’t worry, parents like me worry a lot, so parent's room are full of worries, that is why it’s hard for me to get sleep in my own bedroom. Makes sense…

Last night I came home late from work. On the way to our bedroom I had a glimpse of the children’s bedroom and was delighted to see the room tidy. The books, notebooks, and other things which mess up the small working table were neatly filed. The DVDs, vhs tapes, video games, electronic hardware and other paraphernalia were stocked in their proper places. I commended the two for this cool sight. I think I’m going to hang out there the more.

fogged

I believe in balance, life is a juggle and maintaining balance is a challenge. To have balance in every aspect of your life is pure success. Family, career, friends, social, spiritual - dividing my energy, time, and effort, making sure not one lacks my attention. This is where I work very hard at. This is how my life evolves. I am plus and minus to get the equal.

I am not famous as Harrison Ford, nor a genius like John Jacob Astor IV, certainly not a founder like Father Flanagan, I am nothing compared to these successful July 13 people, but I believe that fate has a way of rewarding me for maintaining balance in my life, regardless of temporary setbacks, trials and obstacles.

Am I still the same person I am two years ago when I quoted the statements above?

Why is the frustration of things not happening the way I wanted them to be dragging me down? Why are my laughs so limited and territorial? Where is the strong-willed woman I used to call “me” a few years back? Why can’t I even write a meaty entry?

Ah...birthday blues…I’m still the old me…just fogged.

We heart this boy!

Monday afternoon, the three of us, Abraham, Lemuel, and I went to Ralph’s with the purpose of buying Lemuel an anagram balloon. The cart was almost filled with everyday essentials when Lemuel said, "Mommy I thought it's about me!" And so we went to the balloon counter. Abraham eyed the biggest "Congrats Grad!" floater and wanted it for his younger brother. After a couple of minutes checking and rechecking, Lemuel said, "I don't need a balloon anyways, just get me Ice Cream!"

We went home with cookies and cream.

Tuesday, Brack and I missed work to attend Lemuel's school affair. He culminated from Elementary with an Academic Excellence Award. After the ceremonies and an important errand, we bought him a McNuggets meal from McDonalds and went home. He is happy.

Lemuel and friends
(Christopher, MM, Bryan, Salvador - he likes peanut butter)

Learning HTML (untold story of a half-hearted programmer)

On the record, Brack and I are now married for 14 years. I should have written an anniversary blog but fatigue had me wanting to sleep than writing about our romantic memoirs. Besides, I thought to myself, too much confessions of love on the web is boring my readers. So this time, let’s forget about me once being a June bride and focus our discussion on my failed aspirations. I dreamed to be a lawyer, a teacher, and a programmer. I pre-qualified at Concord Law School but do not have the $7,500 per semester tuition fee. I wanted to educate children but I got scared…and I wouldn’t like to elaborate further why.

In 2001, when Brack left for the US, with me and the kids left behind, I got so hooked up with the internet even with the dial up modem frustratingly slow (I can still hear the sound of my modem when it connects to my service provider). I was fascinated with the web sites, and even then would want to have one, my own. During that time push button publishing or blogger was not in the blogosphere yet, or they were I just don’t know (but yeah, thanks to blogger, my dream is now a reality).

My employer that time was generous to provide me with a cell phone plan with so many minutes like T-Mobile’s family plan now. But yet, on top of exhausting the minutes of my official talk time, I would still spend around 15% of my bi-monthly salary for phone bills. I call Brack in the morning, at lunch, at night, any day of the week, anytime of the day and night, Philippines or US time, I don’t care. Then one day, I woke up with the bill in my hand, and started thinking of the economics, that time I decided I need to divert my attention to a cheaper alternative which I would also enjoy doing. As I was driving along the CEPZ main road one day, I saw the STI Ad on Web Design, perfect!

I encouraged one of my younger staff and friend Tetchie to join me, initially she doesn’t want to but she eventually did. In class, our instructor would address me as Ma’m, because I’m obviously older than him. I complain a lot and immediately requests for assistance when after typing a ton of codes and tags my browser wouldn’t display what needs to be displayed. Needless to say, Tetchie, who doesn’t have interest in the course learned faster and was able to view her firsts web sites in no time, while I sit there so frustrated and asked our instructor to correct my codes and tags in order that I can move on. Towards the end of the course, we used Front page editor, insultingly I asked why we even bothered to do manual codes in the first place, and the instructor was so irritated with me.

Haphazardly, I learned a programing language, moved to the US in 2002, and after a year of working with my current employer, was sent to a week of intensive training and became an edgariser, among my many functions.

Summing up my story, learning HTML was a passing, my way of curing my lovesickness, of Brack then miles away.

Hmmm. Why does it sound like an anniversary entry after all?

STOP!!! (Imagine this…)

She got out of work fifteen minutes earlier than usual. Drove her SUV to the unusually clear roads to CA-2 Freeway. Dialed on her Motorola soon as she parked inside the Washington Irving compound. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, or eight failed attempts, still can’t reached the person. Grabbed her purse, locked the car, beep beep, walked by the pathway along the benches, straight to LACER room. “Do not use this door, use the main entrance” said the post. Went around, clicked on the door knob, the door was locked. Where are the LACER people?

There was a lady on the field, “Do you see that two tourist buses on the road?” (Pointing by the side street outside the school fence), “they are going to the Dodger game; they are the LACER people going on a field trip.” Wearing her blue green Hawaiian dress, black and blue blazer, bloody red ballet shoes, and green and gray Ralph sunglasses…(to the Madagascar theme) Dan Dan da na nan dan….Dan dan da na nan dan…Dan dan da na nan…She ran across the Olympic sized field, straight to the buses about to leave. With her arms raised up high…she shouted…”Stop!!!” but he is not there, she walked back to her car more worried and irritated. Taking one last shot, walked towards the main building. A lady came out…”who are you looking for?” she asked her. Her cell phone rang…”Mommy, I’m right by the car, I helped Miss Camille at the office, and I didn’t hear my cell phone ring.”

Yes, that was me, looking for Abraham yesterday, he got a hot scolding afterwards.

At night while watching the finale of Dancing with the Stars, I sat on the sofa, with Abraham beside me. I asked, “How can you let Mommy run across that huge football field?” “Oh, that’s exercise; you need to do it sometime.” “How can you let Mommy make a scene like stopping a bus to look for you?” “Oh, just like a love movie, you know when she ran to stop the guy from leaving?”

My boy! My boy!

(this is a 2-year old picture, but Abraham's naughty smile is still as is)

MAXED-OUT!!!

Like a credit card that reached its ceiling limit,

Like tires of a car from a NASCAR race,

Like an athlete who just finished a triathlon,

I’m MAXED OUT! Totally tired

Are you a slave of your site counter?

On a lecture I attended last Saturday, I bumped into a professional web developer and had a short talk on site optimization and site counters.

He asked me what my purpose was in setting up a counter in my blog site. I told him I wanted to know how many people visit my site and I wanted to know basic information about my readers, like where they come from, and sometimes to visit their referring URLs. Aside from that, I also told him, it gives me motivation to write when I see the number on my counter rises.

He asked further how much time I spent reviewing the details of my site meter. I told him not a lot, like one to two minutes (of course I didn’t tell him I only spent few minutes because only a few people visit my site). He told me I’m okay, ‘just making sure I won’t be a slave of my site counter.

He said he know a couple of people who spends longer time analyzing their site counter reports as if doing a statistics project than updating their entries. Further, he said, slowly these people loose their readership because they cannot keep up with the demands of their readers. According to him, regular visitors to a site expect something new each time they drop by, so I should update often, preferably on a schedule, to please my visitors. Furthermore, he said, your site meter will follow to rise.

Hmmm…why does it sound familiar?

The Observatory

The day the kids and I first arrived in Los Angeles one of our first stops was Toy R Us in Los Feliz. On the way there, Brack pointed to that dome-shaped structure on top of the Griffith Mountain and told us, “that is the observatory; we will visit it once it reopens.” The wait took us four long years, a year more and it’s the same wait time as becoming a naturalized American.

Cut the story short, the first weekend it reopened in August last year, we were among the firsts visitors of the place. After the hassle of catching the shuttle bus for visitors, the trip was worth it, at least for Brack and the kids, being Science fanatics. While they tried some equipment and stopped for exhibits, I just walked and took pictures. In fifteen minutes my tour was over, rushed to the top of the building and enjoyed an aerial view of Los Angeles in totality.

The observatory, like the Hollywood sign, is visible from our bedroom window, we see it lighted at night, and it’s a delight to look at. However, I never before took a picture of this nice sight until yesterday. Griffith Park was on fire. I prayed for the fire to be controlled, and it was, the observatory is intact.

Jargons

I once had a boss who is so fond of using jargons in his reports and on meetings that only he can digest. T’was around the 90’s and internet was not yet in bloom so I just relied on my Webster and whenever I don’t find his terminologies in there, I just pretended I understood everything, kept quiet and refrained myself from asking questions.

Later in the same decade, I started my MBA at De La Salle. I didn't enjoy hearing pretentious words. I never imagined myself using jargons until one of my firsts professors in the program told us, one of the things that distinct graduate students from undergraduate students is the use of jargons. He encouraged us to incorporate specialized and technical language from the sophisticated world of business in our presentations, written reports, and class discussions.

Not long after, everybody, myself included, started to use convoluted phrases in class, trying hard to impress one another. My mind boggled with synergies, matrices, strategies, and other terminologies that added complexity to the program. But that was the challenge, and I like being challenged, so I embraced the situation and… Voila! before that first trimester ended, I became like my former boss, jargons became part of my used to be, simple vocabulary.

But those days are gone; I survived the program. I am back to my old me, living with the principle that works in every situation, whenever, wherever… I KISS...(Keep It Simple! - the word for the last letter S is up to you.)

why i'm too tired to post...

Center of my cube - Welcome to my world!

Right side of my cube - awww!!!

Center left - oh please...

Believe me, you wouldn't like to see the leftmost part. Papers, more papers...this is an everyday scenario at my cubicle. When will I hit the lotto jackpot?

What about me?

“What about me?” he asked after reading my birthday blog for Abraham. Even before I responded, Lemuel started browsing my entries in April last year hoping to find a birthday entry for him. Left with nothing to say, I told him I just started writing birthday blogs and will come up with one for his coming birthday.

Lemuel turned eleven a few days ago. I know I should have written this entry earlier had my workload did not consume all my energies and left my ideas dry due to fatigue. Tardy as it is, I’ll make up…the kid deserves a blog and he is looking forward to it.

Abraham was born on a Christmas day; Lemuel came out on a Holy Thursday, forty-four minutes to Good Friday. My OB-Gyne said I always choose the perfect timing. Her husband drove her all the way from Villa Escudero where they are having their Holy Week vacation to slice-up my belly.

Lemuel is not expressive or malambing but he has his own way of showing his affection and concern for us. In fact, he is Abraham’s facilitator. He was delegated all the asking tasks, especially when they wanted new toys or games because Abraham knows it’s hard for us turn down Lemuel. Why because, he asks so nicely and so naive you will feel bad if you deny him outright.

For his first communion preparation retreat three years ago, I wrote Lemuel a letter expressing how we love him and how he made our family happier by just being there. In the letter, I mentioned two incidents where he displayed extra ordinary caring traits and considerate behaviors, incidents worth retelling.

He was two years old and could barely say his sentences completely and clearly. I was standing on top of the kitchen sink arranging the pots and plates on the shelf overhead when he held my feet and said, “baka huhulog ka Mommy” (you might fall Mommy), as if he can hold my weight or prevent my fall.

When he was around four, Brack and I twice argued when we left the keys inside the house and had us locked-outside in the middle of the night for quite sometime. It didn’t happen until a few weeks later for the third time. Just before I started to nag Brack about leaving the keys again, Lemuel reached for his jumper’s chest pocket and handed me the house keys. He said he has been bringing the keys (the spare that stays on top of the fridge) in his pocket each week so we (Brack and I) won’t have to quarrel when we forgot the keys again. A gesture from a kid of four...and we never ever forgot the keys again.

Two years ago, he brought pride to the family when he was certified intellectually gifted by the LAUSD (Los Angeles Unified School District). He will be going to magnet school this fall when he starts middle school. "He excels in Math and very good in Arts, a course combining the two, like Architecture will suit him best," his teacher said.

Lemuel's "No Smoking" slogan poster was best for 2nd graders



His "Happy and Sad" faces in yellow and 3D was one of the best for 5th graders.

His first (of many) Fluency in Math Award

Lemuel wants to be a design engineer someday but he also makes good omelets. He made me a proud mother but there are times his challenge intimidates me. Like one evening he didn’t get my explanation and asked me, to explain again, in scientific way, why onions make us cry.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MM!!! (Keep it up baby, all the way to USC!)


Follow up news: We've got a champion! Today 4/13/2007 Lemuel went home with a ribbon, a framed certificate, a huge dictionary, and a Toys R Us gift card as best speller for 5th graders.

early mornings in earlier times

It was still dark yesterday morning when the chirping birds from the big old tree by our bedroom window woke me up so I decided to stay in bed a few more minutes. While I enjoyed nature’s soothing and calming sound, I instantly became nostalgic and my mind drew back in time reminiscing my early morning experiences in my grandparent’s house many, many, years ago. I realized, I’m so far away from the Philippines. I started to miss the country, our home, the time when I was still a little girl living with my grandparents.

I miss our neighbor’s roosters, our chickens and ducks, the sound they make which wakes me up in the morning. I miss the smoke from Aling Tasing’s wood-fuelled stove every time she prepares sweet stuffs and different varieties of kakanin to sell to the market, her transistor radio tuned into the local news with volume loud enough to reach four houses, including ours.

I miss the “Oinks” of Aling Rosy’s pigs as she feed them and clean their pens before daylight. I miss Lola Kikang inspecting her burong labanos contained in giant clay jars. And although the smell that comes out of the jar each time she opens one is horrible, people were crazy with her buro, me included.

I miss the lady vendors selling pansit, suman, and other native treats. Some were selling fish, crabs, and other fresh seafood catches of the early fishermen. Others has smoked and dried fish, both my favorites, and some vegetables. These ladies amuses me with their incredible strength walking along many streets of the city carrying the huge bilao full of goodies above their heads and announcing aloud to everybody what they have for the day. I usually save money for Pansit Malabon, and ask my Lola to wake me up as soon as she hears the pansit lady coming.

Flowers are lovelier in the mornings, and the enticing and romantic scents of Ylang-Ylang, Sampaguita, and Rosal enchants me. The best garden in the neighborhood belongs to Lola Mitang which happened to be on the other side of our fence, however their side of the fence had that thorny bougainvillea in its entirety. But I loved flowers and the colorful butterflies, there's a ton of roses, cactus and exotic plants and trees in their yard and I loved seeing Lola Mitang work on her garden, so each morning, I step on some old bench, stick out my head to take a peek at this lovely sight and risk a pinch or two of bougainvillea thorns.

Soon as the sun shines brighter, I would ran my way up the bahay na tisa, our ancestral home. Entering from the bodega, a cold, and dark storage where piles of clay water jars like those used by Lola Kikang for her burong labanos were buried underneath the soil with lids and covers protruding. The bodega is where my Lolo Ado’s family stores old and wrecked furniture, and other stuff which may have sentimental but no commercial value. On one corner there’s this old metal Spanish Flagpole which adds up my horror, so I would ran as fast as I can straight to the grand staircase and wait for my Lola Goreng, my great grandmother, to walk out of the bedroom with her native wooden cane and watch her sit at the narra rocking chair by the window.

I know I would never again see old women with long hairs in a bun and dressed in baro’t saya, like Lola Kikang, Lola Mitang, and Lola Goreng, nor smell the freshest air the morning.

Great mornings…then.

I was so carried away with the memories and my mind is ready to wander a lot more when Brack entered our room, I noticed he had already taken his shower. It’s time to get up; the hustle and bustle of downtown Los Angeles awaits me.

Foreign words used:

Ale or Aling – a polite word used/placed before the name of older women
Kakanin – varieties of native treat, usually taken during breakfast or snack
Burong labanos – preserved radish in white liquid juice
Pansit – Philippine noodles

Pansit Malabon - noodles prepared as in style of people from Malabon, a town in Cavite
Suman – rice cake rolled and wrapped in banana or coconut leaves
Bilao - a huge and deep round or oval tray made of thick bamboo skins

Lola – tagalog word for grandmother
Lolo – tagalog word for grandfather

Bodega - storage
Rosal – a white Philippine version of rose
Bahay na tisa – house of clay-tile roof
Baro’t saya – Philippine National Costume for women

she lives on...

Not every married woman in the world were blessed with good in-laws or has good relations with their in-laws. Why do you think jokes about in-laws hating each other were all over the place anyways? This is because society had adapted the norm that in-laws don’t get along well with one another and although I heard from people that this is a common situation, my experience is otherwise. I have good relations with mine especially with my mother in-law.

Mommy and I developed this closeness and openness the night we first talked to each other on the phone thirteen years ago. Brack then was living at their house in BF Homes by himself for five years. It was an awkward scenario at first when I picked up the phone and heard her so surprised that a woman was on the other line when she was expecting no one but Brack to pick up the call. Shocked or upset, she cried and hurriedly hunged up, only to call again and requested to speak with me after talking to Brack for a while. She tried to hide it but I felt the disappointment in her voice that Brack may not be able to follow them to the US because of me. But that instance I also sensed her quick acceptance (maybe because she was left with no other choice...just kidding Mommy!), she told me things that made me feel I’m part of the family already. It was the start of many overseas conversations until we moved to California in 2002.

I/we, spent time with Daddy and Mommy only three times since we came to the US. Aside from they lived in Jersey City, work schedules and budget didn’t give us liberty to visit them often, however, the wires were very much open for us and kept us connected. Mommy loved TFC and since we don’t have that subscription, she is more updated with filipino showbiz than I am. This is a regular topic of us, on top of family happenings. We usually talk on weekends but once in a while she would call on weekdays when she said she dreamt of Brack or when she needs to ask me something, usually about the Philippines or some documents. She often reminded us to love each other, to be humble, and to be thankful for the blessings we experience in life.

Last summer we visited them at their new house in Florida, and since it is also our first time in the sunny state, we had a full-schedule going to the attractions in the area. Mommy made sure we won't miss our schedules, she would knock on our door each morning to wake us up with breakfast ready. She tried to please us despite her failing health and poor vision, with Daddy’s help, she cooked good meals.

Mommy’s been sick for a while. She’s been in and out of the hospital the last three months due to complications. Three Sundays ago she asked Daddy to call us but we weren’t able to pick up because we got up late, she wanted to talk to us. We returned the call but Mommy was asleep. Then Monday was a busy working day…I/Brack didn’t call her. Tuesday at dawn, we were shocked to hear Mommy passed away. I regret not being able to speak to her one last time. I wonder what’s she’s going to tell me. I owe Mommy a lot…she was a good parent…I owe her Brack, she raised him well. She made my married life special. I love her more for this. Now I have these moments that I wanted to call her and hear her voice, her laughs, her showbiz updates, but she's gone far away. I just miss her so bad.

MOMMY

Today is the day we celebrate you
For all the love, care, and prayers
The special way you touched our hearts
No woman could have done more

Though you're not here to hear us say
We're truly blessed that we had you
And though it's hard to let you go...
We wish you joy in your new home.

(Zarah 02/08/07)

Her breath I breathe...

She had me when she was 18; I can’t imagine what pain I caused her even before I breathe my first air outside her womb, delivered normally in a breach position…whew! I wouldn’t elaborate on the pains I caused her after my birth; I guess I also gave her happiness all those years. After all, Mama thinks I am loving and compassionate despite being authoritative and sometimes a nagger.

Today, Mama turned 60 and I sang “Happy Birthday” to her on the phone. I can’t well enough summarize how she meant to me so I just borrowed this quote from Washington Irving…this is exactly how she is to me...I love you Mama, for all that you are.

A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden, fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts.

You know it's true love when...

A young adult and his father on true love.

Son: Dad, I’d like to marry my girlfriend. I love her very much and I want to spend the rest of my life with her as my wife.
Father: How do you know it’s true love?
Son: Well, it’s true love because when I was kissing her goodbye last night their dog bit my leg and I didn’t know about it until I get home. (this was part of last Sunday’s homily….)

February is commercialists month, the time of year when affection translates to many material things. Every year the same…dinners, flowers, diamonds, and...iphones…(upps not yet! Brack are you reading this? ‘just a heads up).

I don’t understand why men choose to express their feelings on Valentines day where everywhere is crowded, when prices are all jacked-up, flowers especially. Love can be expressed 365 days a year, I prefer it that way. I’m sure there are lots of women out there who prefer to be appreciated and loved every day of the year, not just on Valentines. Yet still, women are women…that’s why commerce rejoices…women loved getting gifts and flowers anytime of the year, specially Valentines, me included.

I remember last year Brack got me tulips. I kept asking how much it was and when he wouldn’t tell me, I told him he should have just given me the money instead. He was irritated and told me he will never again give me flowers. A few days ago while walking on the street with lovely roses sold at the sidewalks, I asked if he’s giving me flowers on Valentines, he said….”if there’s a good deal!” Hahaha!!! I truly love this man!

By the ways, February 2nd is National Wear Red Day. The day when Americans nationwide will wear read to show their support for women’s heart disease awareness. I’d like to wear read this day.

tech geeks' vigil

Christmas is my favorite holiday, it's not only for kids, it's also for moms, for everyone, for tech geeks like me. It is the time to receive (or buy - worst case, LOL) our dreamt electronic products. Fortunately for me, I got 3 of the items in my secret wish list (existed only in my mind - although obvious to Brack and the kids - yet they didn't get for me) as a gift. I got Discovery 655, the ultimate (so far as of this writing - soon passé I know) bluetooth headset . I got this wristlet the only non-electronic item I wished for...and dyarannnn! the bestbuy giftcards. What's so good about the bestbuy gift cards? I can use it for...the Wii, the cool Wii softwares...and this "life in your pocket" gadget that makes tech geeks vigilant until June - the iphone.

The proper artistic response to digital technology is to embrace it as a new window on everything that’s eternally human, and to use it with passion, wisdom, fearlessness and joy. Ralph Lombreglia

What a coincidence, I'm so tech every January...see my last year's January 4 entry :-)

what's in a name?

Baptized Maria Elizarah, I learned I am also Elizabeth when I’m asked to turn-in my birth certificate as a college-graduation requirement. From grade school to high school to college, it was a big adjustment to change names, even if it’s just the first name. To reconcile the records, I turned to older relatives for an affidavit under oath that I am the same person and distributed copies to those concerned.

But despite the switch of first names, I opted to keep my nickname personally and professionally. Even my firsts and last sets of business cards in the Philippines was “Zarah.” When I came to the US everybody was calling me Elizabeth, others Liz, and a few others Lizzie despite my repetitive requests to call me by my nickname. So my old nickname is now history.

I have been “Sweetheart” since Brack and I started going out for until I had Abraham, it was replaced by “Mommy.” Not that I don’t want to be called one, trust me, it’s always a pleasure to hear the kids call me Mommy. Brack calls me Zarah on very limited occasions, one is when he is mad or irritated with me, but believe it or not, it’s still music to hear even if he’s in a bad mood. I don’t know, but I desperately love it when someone calls me by the name I grew up with, it is intimate. I could feel it’s me, just me and my own real person.

why i prefer Mcdonald's cookies

Yesterday, with the kids help, I baked my own chocolate chips cookies...

It was a disaster!

How to start the New Year right (my version)

I’m not really a New Year’s Resolution advocate but this year, hoping 2007 will be better, I have listed down my agendas. Although these are “me-specific”, who knows, one or two might be applicable to you.

1. A quiet welcome – for the past five years we celebrated the New Year at a relative’s house with everybody. This year, we initially planned to do the same but changed our minds the last minute. Instead, we bid goodbye to 2006 quietly with hugs, grapes, and a toss of sparkling cider, just the four of us. Such change is nice.
2. My eyes on the calendars – unlike the past years when I delayed the disposal of previous year's calendars, this time, I stashed the old ones promptly and hang the new ones right away. I’m not really superstitious but I heard from somewhere that doing so, you are giving the New Year an easy access and thereby things will come to you light and easy too.
3. I opted to simplify – simplification to me means removing the clutters and the excesses. The files, magazines, old clothes, accessories, and things I don’t use but still keep, need to go. I realized being sentimental takes up a lot of closet space. I’m sure Brack will appreciate this move.
4. I’m not perfect – and since I’m not, this year I promise to forgive people who intentionally or unintentionally hurt me in the past. I maybe one of the most understanding and caring women you’ll ever know but I hold grudges. And now I have decided to move on and let go of these negative emotions I’ve been keeping inside. Whether or not I’ll succeed in flushing it all out completely, at least, I'll try, and I’ll start.
5. I’ll stretch – which means two things: (a) physical stretch which I really need after feasting on the holiday menus, and (b) exercise more patience and tolerance. I commit to be more resilient. I’ll learn to accept things and people as it is/they are and not how I wanted it/them to be. Will definitely try to be more calm and grateful and not comparing.

So, these plus a couple more tiny things I will embrace starting immediately. Wish me luck!

Cheers to a new year and another chance for us to get it right.~Oprah Winfrey