Calamansi Juice Stories

of fat babies and aging mums

2006-10-24T18:54:00.000+08:00

i realize it's been almost a year since my last post, and tiago looks nothing like his baby announcement picture so...

this is him now.

and yes, i have been advised to sign him up for baby pilates sessions.

***

having an older man (who is not so old) for a husband, i smugly thought i would have the benefit of feeling forever young. however, thanks to pablo, there are times when i suddenly feel ancient. he recently saw an Olympia typewriter for the first time, and referred to it as "old computer". i also vaguely remember him asking if there were any games on it, but i was only half-listening, swept away by self-images with crow’s feet, age spots, a bent spine and and a sagging tummy.

kids really know how to put you in your place without even trying.

meet our new son :)

2006-01-09T15:51:00.000+08:00

Toilet Seat Battle

2005-11-25T20:23:00.000+08:00

I have a strange feeling that it’s beginning to happen… male domination.

One night while lying in bed watching tv, I noticed my husband get up and head for the bathroom. I heard him do his thing on the wee-wee bowl, since the door was slightly ajar… when suddenly it dawned on me.

As soon as he stepped back into the room, I suspiciously asked him:

Me: You didn’t put the toilet seat up, did you.

Him: (Taken aback and slightly defensive) No, I didn’t.

Me: Sigh. How many times… (my voice trailing off)

Him: (Having collected his wits) Do you realize that there will be 3 of us (males) soon? You’re the only girl so maybe the toilet seat should be left up, and put down only when you use it.

I racked my brain for an answer to that one, but much as I hate to admit it, his remark made some sense. So I just shut up and pretended not to hear him.

So now in our bathroom, the toilet seat is officially left UP. Score for the men.

At least I still get to choose the tv channels to watch. For now.

IT'S ANOTHER BOY!!!

2005-09-20T22:06:00.000+08:00

You should have seen the million-watt beam on my husband's face when he learned that he would have another mini-me. I guess he prayed harder.

Maybe it's the hormones working overtime again, but.. although I too am excited about the fact that another little munster will soon be running around the house, some part of me slightly dreads the prospect of 3 testosteroney beings ganging up on the only female in the house.. namely, myself.

Maybe i can start rethinking about our agreement about having only 2 kids. Because pretty soon i'll be needing an ally.

The Unhurried Woman

2005-08-10T14:17:00.000+08:00

Been reading this wonderful book, "Meditations During Pregnancy" by Beth Wilson Saavedra. Last night's meditation was about Pacing Ourselves and Slowing Down.

An unhurried woman is willing to include some emptiness in her day. That way, when you ask if she's got time for you, she almost always does.. it takes courage to be an unhurried woman. It means giving up accolades like, "I don't know how she does it all."

Although our lives seem more complicated than that of the unhurried woman from our past, we would do well to remember her example. Soon we will have a little one whose needs will demand that we slow down and make unhurried time for him, like looking at a picture he's painted, or when he needs help assembling a model airplane.

I love my mom dearly, but I sorely miss Papa who was always unhurried when it came to us. He had his own share of troubles, but would always ask us how our day went, in spite of his own tiredness after a long day. Sometimes a simple "how are you feeling today" goes a long way.

Conversations with a Toddler

2005-07-14T13:39:00.000+08:00

My son and I sometimes suffer from communication problems. Let me explain. His vocabulary is composed of words that sound alike yet mean different things. For example:

Tey - Water, Clay, Okay, Computer
Han or An - Sun, Hand, One
Yite - Write, Like
Moy - Small, More
Ee - Wee-wee, Jelly, Money

Anyway.. Recently I was busy with some paperwork when he climbed on my lap, attempting to pester me. So I told him to go and play with his new balloon (actually an inflated surgical glove from his Ninang Catherine).

He looked at me and said, “Yoon.. pey.. dan.”

I paused and blinked twice. Then I understood.

Me: Ok, you want to PLAY with your BALLOON DOWNSTAIRS?
Him (Getting frustrated): No.. pey.. dan.
Me (After another short pause): You want to PLAY with your DRUM instead?
Him (Now angry and bangs on the table): Pey.. dan. Pey.. dan.. yoon!
Me: Balloon?
Him: Yes. Pey.. dan.

At least we got that settled. He was talking about his balloon, alright. So I stood up and told him that we would go get his balloon. Still troubled, he led me to the window and there I saw it.

His balloon FELL DOWN.

The change in his expression from that of frustration to absolute joy was remarkable, when he saw that I finally understood.

But his happiness was short-lived. No sooner had we retrieved the balloon, when he said…

“Mama… tey.”

Mommy's Masterpiece.

2005-07-11T17:29:00.000+08:00

Oh was Pablo thrilled! He didn’t seem to mind that one leg fell off when he lifted The Creation. After all, mommy was able to stick it back on.

In his eyes at that particular moment, I was The Goddess.

A Rare Moment of Vanity During These Blah Days

2005-07-05T19:15:00.000+08:00

I am now at the stage when my tummy is already too big to fit into my pre-pregnancy jeans, but not quite big enough yet for maternity clothes. However, at the risk of trying too hard to look pregnant, I still choose to wear maternity blouses (not the puffy-sleeved ones, but those cute sleeveless ones that cut just below the chest and show off the bulging belly) for fear of being mistaken as simply having gained quite a number of pounds from overeating.

Of course, there is also my observation that people tend to be nicer to expectant women. Since I started wearing these magic tummy-enhancing blouses, I have not been pushed or shoved at a crowded place. I have been offered a seat at least once while waiting at a mall. I am smiled at more often by complete strangers. And a woman let me take her place in line at a public restroom because “she knows how it is to be pregnant and without bladder control”. Of course, husband and son also do their share in being more helpful and understanding while being around mommy.

At least some things make up for the pimples and nausea.

High on Wimbledon

2005-07-03T23:35:00.000+08:00

I am sad. Sharapova lost to Venus.

At least Federer, my crush of the moment, got his grand slam.

If Maria and Roger end up together, their kids would take Wimbledon by storm! And such gorgeous kids probably.

Now back to watching updates on Gloriagate and wondering when they can actually start running the country instead of fighting for power.

We're Having Another Baby!! :-)

2005-06-27T19:15:00.000+08:00

No wonder I haven't been feeling like myself lately. Why do they call it "morning sickness" when it actually strikes at dawn, late in the morning, noon, nighttime and at midnight? If you ask me, the traumatic part is not the actual childbirth process but the 1st trimester blues. Nausea, vomiting, fatigue, skin breakouts and mood swings. All things that make you just want to lie in bed all day, turn your mobile off and refuse to speak with anyone (yes, including Pablo).

That's how it was for the past 3 months. I'm glad it's almost over, and I'm actually looking forward to being pregnant -- without the nausea. Oh, and it's a wonderful, wonderful thing that empire-cut blouses are back in fashion.

Call me Maria Sharapova.

2005-02-28T15:26:00.000+08:00

.. minus the string halter tops. Oh, and she plays tennis, while i play badminton. Check out my new trophy:

I'm queen of the universe!

(Largely due, of course, to the efforts of my partner Rose and our ultra-patient coach, my wonderful husband D.)

i've got dirty nails, but i don't care because...

2005-02-23T15:00:00.000+08:00

... the garden is fabulous! well, part of it at least.

after 2 whole days out in the sun toiling with charcoal, fertilizer and driftwood, transplanting and playing landscape artist (with lots of help from our trusty and able-bodied Fernando of course), i am ecstatic about having put some semblance of order to our neglected mini-orchidarium. check it out:

i am happy to say that the roots are already clinging *applause, applause*.

every few weeks or so, i will be updating you on this sick, slow-growing baby (whom we shall call Thai) ..

..the only one in about 30 sprouts which we brought back from our bangkok trip, that survived since 2002. join me as i attempt to bring her to full bloom!

Annoying, Adorable Little Imp

2005-02-18T19:57:00.000+08:00

Christmas, at least in our family, officially ends only when all our balikbayans have gone home (and what a blast we had when they were here! See my sis Tina’s related post, January 11). So here I am again, back to my semi-normal kind of life with husband, little munster and the dogs.

Speaking of the little munster. For some reason, he finds it amusing to climb on my lap and press the space bar every time he sees me happily tapping away at the keyboard. He is doing it again as I type.

Since I just lost my trail of thought, allow me to write about this instead:

PABLO'S 10 MOST ANNOYING HABITS:

1. Makes sure that his dad and I wake up as soon as he does -- by poking our eyes and nostrils. (Never mind that he woke us up for his dawn feeding).
2. Tries to catch your attention from afar and puckers up for a kiss, only to turn his head away when you are all puckered up too, and only inches away from his face.
3. PRETENDS to write on the wall, eat off the floor, pull electric cords and bang on the plates – just to get a kick out of seeing your horrified reaction. Then laughs.
4. Covers his face with both hands when not in the mood for a photo shoot.

5. Sucks the saltiness out of butong pakwan, and puts them back in the container along with the untouched ones.
6. Refuses to wear his shoes when you need him to, and insists on wearing the same ones when he is all clean and ready for bed.
7. Not only hogs our bed before bedtime, but claims all our 4 pillows too.
8. His default answer to any question is "no".
9. If the question happens to be “do you want to taste this”, he remembers how fond he is of food and changes his mind after you’ve eaten the piece you offered.
10. If the question happens to be “do you want to watch barney”, he waits until after you’ve settled on a nice tv program before he makes a fuss and decides to watch barney after all…

You get the drift.

Reviewing the list I made above just reminded me how totally adorable he is. Guess it’s time for another battle of power with that little imp.

Christmas Without Papa

2004-12-18T01:38:00.000+08:00

The first round of holiday parties begun last week, and finding time for myself in the middle of the hectic rush of the season seems practically impossible. But miracles do happen, and i finally get to spend some quiet time.

This will be our first Christmas since Papa passed away. And i again feel a heavy pang of emptiness in my chest. I have begun to accept the fact that there will be no more gifts to give, no more dreams to share.. but there will always be pictures and happy memories of us with him. He was my personal hero, the seat of my limited wisdom, the standard with whom i have come to pit all things against. He was, to me, an example of selfless, unconditional love. I really, truly, miss him.

But he has passed on and i can only hope for and look forward to the day when we would be together again.

In the meantime, i have two precious men in my life to look after, two beautiful sisters to keep company with, and a whole hilarious family-in-law to run to anytime. They all keep the sun shining.

Papa may not be with us this year, but it will still be a Merry Christmas indeed.

Of Silly Conversations

2004-11-21T23:57:00.000+08:00

It's funny when having a toddler in the house transforms adult discussions into ridiculous exchanges and comical situations.

One recent evening I was playing with Pablo when I noticed my husband deep in thought about something on his table.

Me: Working late?

Husband: I need your help.

Thrilled about how much he valued my opinion, and eager to embark on an intelligent discourse, I answer: Sure, what is it?

Husband: Do you think it would be better if they swim in a school, or if i just arrange them at random?

My mind went blank.

He was talking about Pablo's new set of green glow-in-the-dark sea creature stickers. The ones that you stick on the ceiling.

Me: It doesn't matter.. does it?

Him: Of course it does. See? All the angelfish are facing that way, and the starfish here..(Proceeded to balance on a tall chair and painstakingly stick the neon figures above Pablo's bed, in an organized fashion)

Me: Oh. Ok. (Looking on, amazed at his patience.)

Him: Now to turn out the lights and make Pablo happy. (Proudly clicks off the light switch. Click.)

Pablo: (Takes one look at the glowing ghostly-looking fish, and screams in terror) WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

So much for the school of fish. But you've got to love the effort.

Say That Again?

2004-11-14T17:22:00.000+08:00

A husband read an article to his wife about how many words women use a day... 30,000 to a man's 15,000. The wife replied, "The reason has to be because we have to repeat everything to men...

The husband then turned to his wife and asked, "What?"

(Credits to my good friend Devra.)

the one that got away

2004-11-11T22:37:00.000+08:00

have you ever had an out-of-nowhere flashback and thought: "now there was one relationship that didn't make sense."

i was rummaging through my old stuff when it jumped at me. this particular memento I didn’t even remember I had, that evoked memories of a relationship long forgotten, like rediscovering an old book gathering dust on an abandoned bookshelf.

now that I think about it, that relationship was something i never really understood. we were brought together by circumstance, probably even by convenience. the way we each looked at life, treated people, processed decisions and handled situations was totally different from the other. everything seemed to be wrong from the onset, and as each month passed, i found myself bringing out the worst in him and vice versa. by the time we decided to call it quits, I was this miserable, self-doubting, paranoid, virtually suicidal soul.

i just recently read this article about a famous filipino-chinese tycoon, who shared his success secret: i chose my wife well. according to him, everything follows when your heart is at peace. something to that effect. i could not agree with him more.

these are the times when I thank god that the one that got away -- did get away. or else i never would have met my wonderful, wonderful hubby.. who loves my family and friends as much as I do, likes my fashion sense, laughs at my jokes, thinks overacting is cute (at least most of the time), and most importantly, trusts my judgment and has given me the confidence to be my own person again.

life sometimes has peculiar ways of showing you its beauty.

Da Vinci Code, The Movie

2004-11-08T19:27:00.000+08:00

Who Will Break the Da Vinci Code?

Four of Hollywood's biggest names are vying for the starring role in the film adaptation of "The Da Vinci Code", a New York Times bestseller.

Tom Hanks, Hugh Jackman, Russel Crowe and George Clooney are locked in a cutthroat competition to play the lead role of Robert Langdon. Ron Howard, who directed the Oscar winner "A Beautiful Mind", will work his magic behind the camera.

The plot revolves around Langdon, who must unravel a murder mystery by using clues from the works of Leonardo Da Vinci. Russel Crowe looks to be favored to land the starring role, but Oscar winner Tom Hanks is nipping at his heels.

Whoever plays the lead role, I hope the movie stays faithful to the book. I hate what they did to Michael Crichton's "Sphere".

Halloween Mommy

2004-11-04T19:49:00.000+08:00

it was pablo's first trick-or-treat, and he absolutely loved it! of course, having only 6 (going-on-7) teeth, he was allowed to eat only the crackers and gummies.. guess who had fun eating most of the loot? ;)

here he is as dracula-meets-roly poly olie, with his cousins miguel (as a vampire, too) and enzo (as mulawin-meets-feather duster).

Unwarranted Gossip

2004-10-29T18:59:00.000+08:00

It both amazes and amuses me how some people have little qualms about letting total strangers in on personal stuff about their lives. Case in point ..

I was at the bank this morning – not an everyday occurrence for me, given the recent popularity of this fabulous thing called e-banking. I took a number – a big, red 59 -- and sat down among rows of people waiting to transact their business with the tellers.

As I was settling in my seat, number 48 was being served. I took notice of this stocky middle-aged woman dressed in a loud floral blouse and tacky bling-bling.. She was going on and on about how her father was undergoing dialysis while she was single-handedly paying for the hospital bills. Never mind that the whole east side of the client lounge could hear. Never mind that her poor friend, who was on the receiving end of her story, seemed embarrassed by the stares directed towards them.

I was too busy watching her performance, along with everyone else, that I almost didn’t hear number 54 being called.

About that time, this fairly fashionable woman in her late 20s just came in. She furiously waved her arms, trying to grab the bank teller’s attention. Apparently they were old friends.

Bank Teller : Oh, hi! How are you?
Waving Woman : Great! Just got married this year. What about you?
B.T. : Married too, with kids. One boy and one girl. Still work at
(company name)?
W.W. : No, I resigned just last month. The pay wasn’t too good.
Have you heard about Dina?..

And so went another unwarranted eavesdropping session for me and everyone else within their 5-meter radius. It was like being forced to listen to loud annoying music blaring from a neighbor’s window.

Gossip may sometimes be a nasty little indulgence, but broadcasting one’s private life to total strangers? That, to me, is bewildering.

But then again, I forget.. I keep a blog. :J

Mommy Arithmetic 101

2004-10-21T15:08:00.000+08:00

(1) Super-Active Curious Baby + Running Electric Fan = Scratched Finger.
(2) Scratched Finger + Crying Fit = Guilty Mommy.
(3) Scratched Finger + Good Scolding = Wiser Baby Who Stays Clear of Electric Fan.

No matter how uncomfortable it is for us, I realize that sometimes they just have to learn the hard way. Sigh.

Who's A Sissy?

2004-10-13T11:46:00.000+08:00

Website Journalist:
How would you react to criticisms that badminton is just for the sissy?

Celebrity Badminton Player:
The nice guy in me says that’s just a reaction of people who haven’t tried it or are afraid to. Give it a shot before you criticize it. The badminton fanatic in me says step into a court with me and I will acquaint you with the taste of a shuttlecock…when I smash it down your throat.

How I would love to have said this myself!

Happy Nails

2004-10-12T14:49:00.000+08:00

Few things are more refreshing than a trip to the nail salon for a manicure, pedicure, foot scrub and foot spa.

I love my sparkly, perky nails!

It’s wonderful being a girl -- pampering never needs to be justified.

Thursday: Massage day.

On A Lighter Note..

2004-10-07T20:08:00.000+08:00

Pablo seems to be happy about his newly-shaven head.

Irate About Non-Idols

2004-10-07T17:26:00.000+08:00

Back when I was about 8 and my sister was 3, our nannies would sometimes watch tv while we played house. On one occasion, one of them shrieked: “Idol ko talaga yan si Vilma!” I momentarily stopped brushing my doll’s hair and asked her what that meant. She then explained, in the best way that she knew how, that an idol is someone whom you admire, practically worship. I was bewildered, having none of the sort.

So, in search of my own personal idol, I asked my father that night: “Papa, who is your idol?” I was expecting him to say President Marcos— he being the most powerful man in the world that my naïve mind could conjure. (Hey, I was 8.)

I was surprised to hear him say, “I have no idol. You shouldn’t idolize anyone, because they are only people like you and me.”

Those words have had such a profound effect on me. And I think that is the reason why I have sometimes been accused of being too comfortable around, or even irreverent towards “honorable” people such as politicians, larger-than-life demi-gods who drive around in their luxurious gas-guzzling vehicles and surrounded by a dozen bodyguards.

My part-time stint hosting a socio-political tv talk show obliges me to interact with public officials and the like. I have been warned by well-meaning persons to take it easy on my remarks or else I might win a few enemies, if not a libel suit.

Easier said than done, if you ask me. How can you hold back sarcasm, when it is no secret that the dignified-looking gentlemen grandstanding in front of the camera have embezzled your tax payments and denied poor citizens of their right to basic services while funding their expensive hobbies? How can you pretend to be impressed when you know that their explanations are sugar coated, designed to confuse those who don’t know better?

I am still seething from yesterday’s broadcast.

All Because Of Crispy Shrimp Fritters

2004-10-04T19:38:00.000+08:00

I love my husband dearly. He was, in fact, so kind as to accompany my sister tina and I to a not-so-exciting meeting with our family lawyer this morning, just to make sure that we made all the right decisions. He did that for me when he could have been doing much more important things. He does things like this all the time, his way of letting me know how much he cares.

However, there are moments when petty arguments arise from nowhere and nerves break loose.

It was lunch time when we got out of that meeting, and the sight of freshly-fried okoy (crispy shrimp fritters) on the street made us girls drool like pregnant women. What made the craving so desperate was not only because of the way the fritter was cooked to a perfect golden brown and dipped out from the scalding oil. It was also because of the heartwarming childhood memories it brought back, when my sisters and cousins and I would often skip through the tete duyan (hanging bridge) while sipping gulaman or scramble, and nibbling on an okoy or day-old egg. Those were such fun times.

To relive the memory, all we wanted was a taste of that crispy, crumbly okoy.

So I asked my husband: “Gusto mo ba ng okoy?” With a longing look at the okoy.
(Translated, meant: “Gusto ko ng okoy. Bilhan mo naman ako dahil wala akong dalang barya.”)

Husband shakes his head.
(With a slightly irritated face, probably from the sweltering heat, and started to walk away from the okoy stand.)

Slightly irritated myself, I then turned to my sister. “Tina, may dala ka bang barya?”
(Translation: “Walang pakialam ang asawa ko sa feelings ko. Ikaw nalang ang makiramay.”)

Husband: (Realization slowly creeping in) “Gusto mo ba ng okoy?”

Me: “Di bale na.”
(Averting his clueless gaze with a fleeting dagger look, and proceeded to walk away from the you-know-what stand, childhood memory bubble shattered, appetite lost.)

Of course, he ended up buying the shrimp fritters -- we all had them for lunch along with rice, asado, some veggies, while having a good laugh about that PMS-y incident. But not after my husband and sisters ganged up on and mercilessly teased me about being a brat.

Like I said, there are moments when nerves break loose. But at the end of the day, I find myself thanking God for giving me such a wonderful and patient life partner. I cannot imagine any other person being the father of my son -- whose temper, unfortunately, takes after mine. But then that’s an entirely different story.

My New Best Friend.. Babycenter.com

2004-09-30T17:48:00.000+08:00

Being a sucker for junk mail has its benefits. Of course I realized too late that to open suspicious-looking attachments sometimes is fatal, but once in a while there come along websites that really are helpful and worth subscribing to. Take for example Babycenter.com, which was my absolute lifesaver specially during Pablo’s hiccupy and gas-plagued months. It put my mind at ease, knowing that Derick and I were not the only sleep-deprived parents on the continent.

Now at 15 months, my son is slowly becoming his own person, and needs less intensive care thank goodness. But before I could deliberate on unsubscribing to the weekly newsletter, the article just jumped at me:

Top Story: “8 Ways To Keep Sex Steamy After You Have Kids”

I was done reading it in 5 minutes.. and such an enlightening albeit giggly, amusing time that was. Time to think of ways to introduce my husband to my new best friend.

Test, One Two..

2004-09-30T16:32:00.000+08:00

Finally got around to creating my own online journal-- much to my sister Tina's glee, I bet. She has been trying to recruit both Catherine and me into her blogger-cult for ages. So here I am on the bandwagon, with nothing to lose except my privacy and precious quality time which I should instead be giving to my son and my husband.

For whatever it’s worth.. here goes nothing.