Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Enzo at 10
Enzo, my crazy, sensitive, funny little boy has turned 10. I continued his Dad's family tradition and spanked him 10 times, plus a hard 11th to make him grow. Yes, my petite Enzo may not be growing as fast as his brothers are, but he sure is "growing up" more than most kids his age!
Because of all of his questions, I end up talking about so many adult things, but I need to remember that I do not want to encourage my kids to think/worry about adult concerns like money and business. Not quite yet.
Yet, you cannot deny that this boy is money-minded. He has 11,000 already saved up in the bank, and he has started insisting that I move his money to a time deposit so he can get more interest. Can you believe that... And now that he received some birthday cash, and an advanced xmas gift from Mamita, he will definitely surpass his end-of-the-school-year goal of 13,000.
Mamita said today, "You're just like your Dad! How he liked to save his money!" and his face just beamed. I like how kilig the boys get when they are compared to their Dad in any small way... These are the ways they will continue to identify with Cyril even if he is no longer around.
Happy birthday, Enzo, love you!
Because of all of his questions, I end up talking about so many adult things, but I need to remember that I do not want to encourage my kids to think/worry about adult concerns like money and business. Not quite yet.
Yet, you cannot deny that this boy is money-minded. He has 11,000 already saved up in the bank, and he has started insisting that I move his money to a time deposit so he can get more interest. Can you believe that... And now that he received some birthday cash, and an advanced xmas gift from Mamita, he will definitely surpass his end-of-the-school-year goal of 13,000.
Mamita said today, "You're just like your Dad! How he liked to save his money!" and his face just beamed. I like how kilig the boys get when they are compared to their Dad in any small way... These are the ways they will continue to identify with Cyril even if he is no longer around.
Happy birthday, Enzo, love you!
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Letter To Max, as published 12/08, Smart Parenting
Letter to Max, to be read before he proposes to the woman he loves.
I can’t believe my baby is all grown-up! And in love too!
Today as I write this, you are only seven years old. You are a joyful and naughty boy, and you like to draw and paint. It isn’t difficult to take care of you because you take a bath, dress yourself and eat a proper meal without being forced to. You love to laugh, and how you like to sleep…This you got from your Lolo Vic, your Old Man and teasing partner.
You are tall for your age and skinny like me, but so handsome like your Dad. Everyone predicts that you will be the heartbreaker because you have such a charming smile. You are naturally affectionate and love to get a hug and kiss from Mommy.
I can’t help but think that if he were here, your Dad would be so proud to see you talking so maturely about loving someone enough to marry her and commit yourself for life. He would be so proud to see his little boy understand the real responsibilities of marriage. He would so proud to know that you, Max, have grown up well.
I worry that through the years, I have not be able to be both father and mother to you, and that you would grow up at a disadvantage. It is my wish that good people have come into your life to fill the void that you Dad left behind.
I hope that I have been a confidant to you. I wish very much that when you started seeing Her, then getting serious about Her, I was someone you turned to for advice about love and how to know when it was the real thing.
And when you finally exchange vows with Her, in front of God, family, friends and peers, I want to be secure in the knowledge that you HAVE found your true love and place in life.
You worshiped your Dad, you know. From the time you could walk, you followed him around, sat with him, tried to get his attention always. When you were older, you kept him company while your brothers were in big school, sitting on his lap while he played Flight Simulator on the computer.
When your Dad got sick, I don’t think you knew what was happening, but with your child’s intuition, you always knew when to be quiet so he could rest. Your tiny hands even learned how to massage him when he was in pain or just wanted company.
I remember when he was very sick, you were the first of your brothers to come forward to lay your hand on your Dad’s arm to let him know you were there. And when he passed away, you came and stayed with him in the room without fear, touching his body as if to memorize as much as you could for the future. You were so fearless in your innocence.
I am writing this letter seven months to the date since your Dad died and it has been a difficult one to write because imagining my baby leaving to get married feels like a loss too. I realize that I feel this way because the wounds are still fresh, but when the times comes, I hope with all my heart that I will love Her like the daughter I never had.
I want Her to be fun, and funny. She doesn’t have to be gorgeous, but she must be beautiful inside. And above all, She must love you for who you are from the very beginning. A little change can be expected as you adjust to being married, but otherwise, She will love YOU and your flaws as much as She loves you and your best qualities.
On the other hand, I want to see you worship Her like your Dad worshipped me. Your Dad was one man who showed me that I could still be loved despite my faults. It hurts me to remember the times I did not appreciate this, and this is my one regret in life.
Max, please hold your love dear, appreciate it everyday. Make it grow with daily doses of “I love you”, a simple “thank you” after a nice meal, an enthusiastic “wow” when She makes the effort to dress up well, and a sincere “how was your day” when it looks like She’s had a bad one.
If that fails, be affectionate the way you are now and let Her feel your care through your touch. A lingering hug goes a long way.
Now, go get the ring and practice those lines we probably wrote together. Practice them like we used to practice your poems for recital in school. Now, say it again slowly… “I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life loving only you… Will you marry me?”
Good job, Max. Call me after she says yes.
I love you!
I can’t believe my baby is all grown-up! And in love too!
Today as I write this, you are only seven years old. You are a joyful and naughty boy, and you like to draw and paint. It isn’t difficult to take care of you because you take a bath, dress yourself and eat a proper meal without being forced to. You love to laugh, and how you like to sleep…This you got from your Lolo Vic, your Old Man and teasing partner.
You are tall for your age and skinny like me, but so handsome like your Dad. Everyone predicts that you will be the heartbreaker because you have such a charming smile. You are naturally affectionate and love to get a hug and kiss from Mommy.
I can’t help but think that if he were here, your Dad would be so proud to see you talking so maturely about loving someone enough to marry her and commit yourself for life. He would be so proud to see his little boy understand the real responsibilities of marriage. He would so proud to know that you, Max, have grown up well.
I worry that through the years, I have not be able to be both father and mother to you, and that you would grow up at a disadvantage. It is my wish that good people have come into your life to fill the void that you Dad left behind.
I hope that I have been a confidant to you. I wish very much that when you started seeing Her, then getting serious about Her, I was someone you turned to for advice about love and how to know when it was the real thing.
And when you finally exchange vows with Her, in front of God, family, friends and peers, I want to be secure in the knowledge that you HAVE found your true love and place in life.
You worshiped your Dad, you know. From the time you could walk, you followed him around, sat with him, tried to get his attention always. When you were older, you kept him company while your brothers were in big school, sitting on his lap while he played Flight Simulator on the computer.
When your Dad got sick, I don’t think you knew what was happening, but with your child’s intuition, you always knew when to be quiet so he could rest. Your tiny hands even learned how to massage him when he was in pain or just wanted company.
I remember when he was very sick, you were the first of your brothers to come forward to lay your hand on your Dad’s arm to let him know you were there. And when he passed away, you came and stayed with him in the room without fear, touching his body as if to memorize as much as you could for the future. You were so fearless in your innocence.
I am writing this letter seven months to the date since your Dad died and it has been a difficult one to write because imagining my baby leaving to get married feels like a loss too. I realize that I feel this way because the wounds are still fresh, but when the times comes, I hope with all my heart that I will love Her like the daughter I never had.
I want Her to be fun, and funny. She doesn’t have to be gorgeous, but she must be beautiful inside. And above all, She must love you for who you are from the very beginning. A little change can be expected as you adjust to being married, but otherwise, She will love YOU and your flaws as much as She loves you and your best qualities.
On the other hand, I want to see you worship Her like your Dad worshipped me. Your Dad was one man who showed me that I could still be loved despite my faults. It hurts me to remember the times I did not appreciate this, and this is my one regret in life.
Max, please hold your love dear, appreciate it everyday. Make it grow with daily doses of “I love you”, a simple “thank you” after a nice meal, an enthusiastic “wow” when She makes the effort to dress up well, and a sincere “how was your day” when it looks like She’s had a bad one.
If that fails, be affectionate the way you are now and let Her feel your care through your touch. A lingering hug goes a long way.
Now, go get the ring and practice those lines we probably wrote together. Practice them like we used to practice your poems for recital in school. Now, say it again slowly… “I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life loving only you… Will you marry me?”
Good job, Max. Call me after she says yes.
I love you!
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Missing Three Cs
Life has conspired (again) to remind me of all that I have lost this year. An aunt made me cry over the phone by telling me, "You lost so much, you must feel so sad, you probably cry everyday..." and "My heart aches for you and I pray everyday that God sends you someone so you aren't so lonely...".
Other people in my life and on the outskirts of my existence came together this week to play with my heart, not by setting out to make me cry, but just by being reminders themselves of what I do not have anymore.
And so I end this week having cried more than recently usual, bowed by such a sense of loss. My days in themselves are normal, productive enough. But the sadness this week was like a mantle, a heavy one that made it seem more difficult to navigate my emotions.
I miss the presence of these three Cs in my life, and my world is smaller and so so so much emptier without them.
Other people in my life and on the outskirts of my existence came together this week to play with my heart, not by setting out to make me cry, but just by being reminders themselves of what I do not have anymore.
And so I end this week having cried more than recently usual, bowed by such a sense of loss. My days in themselves are normal, productive enough. But the sadness this week was like a mantle, a heavy one that made it seem more difficult to navigate my emotions.
I miss the presence of these three Cs in my life, and my world is smaller and so so so much emptier without them.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Fake Busy and Xmas
Yeah, it always seem like I have all sorts of stuff to DO, but why do I feel like I'm not actually getting anything DONE?
I explained the feeling recently to a friend, it's like I'm going through the motions, but without really being involved.
And of all the things I could worry about, the one thing that's been making me feel bad is Christmas gifts... Those who know me know I like giving gifts, but I enjoy receiving them too. This year, I won't be receiving one from a Loved One. I know my family and parents will give like they always do, but it isn't like those one or two special gifts/splurges from a spouse that was thought over, decided on, just for me. The kind of gift you exchange between only the two of you. I realize there are many people who don't have this either, but in 16 years, it is what I have gotten used to. It's hard to let go of that tradition and feeling.
I may have to go and buy something for myself, something I've been wanting, but how meaningful is that? It's not ever about the gift itself, is it? It's the knowledge that someone took the time to think about you and what you would like to receive, and went out of their way to find it, wrap it, and create that gift-giving moment that is important to you.
I explained the feeling recently to a friend, it's like I'm going through the motions, but without really being involved.
And of all the things I could worry about, the one thing that's been making me feel bad is Christmas gifts... Those who know me know I like giving gifts, but I enjoy receiving them too. This year, I won't be receiving one from a Loved One. I know my family and parents will give like they always do, but it isn't like those one or two special gifts/splurges from a spouse that was thought over, decided on, just for me. The kind of gift you exchange between only the two of you. I realize there are many people who don't have this either, but in 16 years, it is what I have gotten used to. It's hard to let go of that tradition and feeling.
I may have to go and buy something for myself, something I've been wanting, but how meaningful is that? It's not ever about the gift itself, is it? It's the knowledge that someone took the time to think about you and what you would like to receive, and went out of their way to find it, wrap it, and create that gift-giving moment that is important to you.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Time to purge?
Today was another one of Those Days.
I just noticed that I'm doing That Thing again, that jaw-clenching thing I do without realizing it. And I was so cranky this weekend. So many things I hate about my self/my life now.
Been having the urge to "redecorate" the apartment, to scrub the walls, floors and drawers clean, to purge my little home of all the things that irritate me. For example, I hate my kitchen floor. It's old and it always looks so dirty. I want to throw away my black couch, which is too small anyway, because reupholstering it to fix the hole the kids ripped into it will probably cost too much anyway. So let's all just sit on the floor. I want to get rid of my living room curtains. It reminds me of trying to save money and ending up with curtains that are too short and not very well made. I hate my lighting fixture over the dining room table, with its chip on the third glass and yucky black electrical cord. I want return to mom the red fire painting that still peels even after it was restored. The old Persian carpet with its tattered ends goes too. I want to repaint the dreary walls; the color is no longer neutral, it's just plain sad. And I don't know what to do with that big wooden desk. Sure, it is still used for "work", but it is such a reminder of how things used to be.
I'm not even going to start with the cramped kitchen, the more-cramped maids room and the kids room and the mess there...
So if I throw everything out, will I be less cranky with an empty but clean home? I'd rather have nothing than things that need to be fixed or repaired in some way. They are all daily reminders that I just don't have the time and money to redo the place. Might as well purge and start from scratch, right?
I just noticed that I'm doing That Thing again, that jaw-clenching thing I do without realizing it. And I was so cranky this weekend. So many things I hate about my self/my life now.
Been having the urge to "redecorate" the apartment, to scrub the walls, floors and drawers clean, to purge my little home of all the things that irritate me. For example, I hate my kitchen floor. It's old and it always looks so dirty. I want to throw away my black couch, which is too small anyway, because reupholstering it to fix the hole the kids ripped into it will probably cost too much anyway. So let's all just sit on the floor. I want to get rid of my living room curtains. It reminds me of trying to save money and ending up with curtains that are too short and not very well made. I hate my lighting fixture over the dining room table, with its chip on the third glass and yucky black electrical cord. I want return to mom the red fire painting that still peels even after it was restored. The old Persian carpet with its tattered ends goes too. I want to repaint the dreary walls; the color is no longer neutral, it's just plain sad. And I don't know what to do with that big wooden desk. Sure, it is still used for "work", but it is such a reminder of how things used to be.
I'm not even going to start with the cramped kitchen, the more-cramped maids room and the kids room and the mess there...
So if I throw everything out, will I be less cranky with an empty but clean home? I'd rather have nothing than things that need to be fixed or repaired in some way. They are all daily reminders that I just don't have the time and money to redo the place. Might as well purge and start from scratch, right?
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Just Sitting
I survived Nov.1. It could have been a bad day, but it wasn't. I was too busy being sick to be sad, I think.
Halloween at Alabang on Friday was a lot of fun with the boys and their cousins, plus a few of Andrew's and Angela's friends. For the first time ever, I did not dress up or go trick-or-treating. I stayed in. Mia heard me complaining about my back aching because of my seismic coughing and ordered a massage for me. Sarap.
Yesterday, we all lazed around until 5pm, then went to Mass at San Antonio with Mom, Dad, Marie and MIL, then visited at the crypt, and then had some Thai at Serendra. After dinner, MIL went home, I took the sleeping dead-weight of Maxi home, and the rest watched the last full show of High School Musical 3.
The only time I allowed myself to be melancholic was when I was finally home and it was quiet. I didn't pray, or talk out loud, or meditate... I just sat. And in the grand scheme of things, "just sitting" was as good as it gets.
Halloween at Alabang on Friday was a lot of fun with the boys and their cousins, plus a few of Andrew's and Angela's friends. For the first time ever, I did not dress up or go trick-or-treating. I stayed in. Mia heard me complaining about my back aching because of my seismic coughing and ordered a massage for me. Sarap.
Yesterday, we all lazed around until 5pm, then went to Mass at San Antonio with Mom, Dad, Marie and MIL, then visited at the crypt, and then had some Thai at Serendra. After dinner, MIL went home, I took the sleeping dead-weight of Maxi home, and the rest watched the last full show of High School Musical 3.
The only time I allowed myself to be melancholic was when I was finally home and it was quiet. I didn't pray, or talk out loud, or meditate... I just sat. And in the grand scheme of things, "just sitting" was as good as it gets.
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