Nacho-bibo!

Nacho is at the age when he demands full attention... anything less just won't do! With my pregnancy and Pep in full throttle, I avoid being alone with him by going to the office as much as necessary and coming home to either a tasmanian devil who clambers all over me or a sleeping angel whose long lashes disguise his superhuman abilities to exhaust everyone within perimeter.

I thought about how I was pretty much left on my own as a child and that maybe it's ok to do the same with Nacho since i turned out fine. But seeing him grow up right before my eyes, actually communicate in phrases and even full sentences ("Sino 'to... Iron Man?", "Ayan na cockroach", "Dami saging!" "Lagot ka Mama"...), have a sense of humor (he kisses the baby in my belly daw then proceeds to a noisy raspberry!), insist on his preferences ("I want Kung-fu Panda", "I said NO!")and know that he loves me and his father above everything else (he actually tries to fight off sleepiness just to spend more time with us at night)... I realize that I don't want to leave him on his own - not just because he might get messed up, but more so because I don't want to miss out on the adorable baby turning into an amazing little boy who throws the most terrible tantrums as quickly as the tightest hugs... hollers angry wails as loudly as his infectious laughters.

I have grand dreams of travels and luxuries but I thank God for the happiness of simple weekends wrapped in the arms and legs of my son.

Pre Natal Anxiety: The Ugly Child

Nacho is at that phase where he can switch from an obnoxiously hyper daredevil to charming little angel in a snap of a finger depending on which will yield his desired result. I can see right through that sweet smile of his but am not immune to submission when I'm already too tired to put up a fight... it's a given since I'm his mother. What amazes me is the amount of patience from my son's grandmas, uncles, aunts, even the market vendors who would extend discounts or let him play with quail eggs for his amusement. I figured they let him get away with murder (poor quail embryo!) because (thankfully) they think he's adorable!

It's a universal fact that attractive people have it easier than the aesthetically challenged lot but an old article in Time Magazine actually cites a study that 70% of abused or abandoned children had at least one apparent flaw in their appearance like distinct facial irregularities such as a cleft palate or a skin condition.

From childhood experience, my sister being the first and white as snow got preferential treatment to which I adapted by smartening up. I'm worried that my second child might not turn out to be as fair or as quick a learner as Nacho... given the novelty of having a baby in the family has worn off, would everybody still be as nice and patient?

To this my husband answers... "and that is why I pray he turns out to be a boy so his physical appearance will not matter as much. If our baby is a girl then it's a problem either way whether she's ugly or pretty!" Haaay, this calls for a different topic altogether!

A Mommy’s Rainy Day Musing

I went with my sister to get her medical requirements for Australian visa application. Companions were not allowed so I waited at the dingy restaurant across the St. Luke’s Medical Center building in Malate. There I saw two babies both about a year old but under very different circumstances. One was sleeping peacefully as her mother went around the tables asking for alms while the other was bawling his eyes out as his young and very attractive parents tried to console him by bringing him back in the air-conditioned confines of their luxury car.

Maybe at infancy we already start adapting to life’s situations. When you’re used to all your needs being met, you get easily troubled by the slightest discomfort while if you’re used to heat and hunger, you learn to just sleep them off.

I thought about how I’m raising my son… he’s at the terrible two stage where he exhausts the lights out of me. Nacho can get very physical and temperamental that I start to wonder if it’s him or I might be doing something wrong. I already cancelled access to his favorite Incredible Hulk videos, introduced him to coloring activities and would reward him with dessert only after a proper meal, but nothing can seem to alleviate his stubbornness. Parents I know tell me this worst part will eventually pass… I really do hope so before I turn into a Casey Anthony.

When my son is old enough to understand I will expose him to the reality that while he will not get everything he wants, he still luckier than most kids… I just pray he grows up to be grateful for his blessings and selfless enough to share them.

This Will Be The Last Time I Will Be Fat & Pregnant!

I'm pregnant again!

Nacho will be two years and five months old by the time I give birth. I'm lucky to have my mom stay with us but without a reliable househelp, managing my company and Tats' impending provincial assignment, raising two kids is going to be very challenging. Thus I have decided to get my tubes tied after Baby No.2. My OB said I'm too young and to wait in case I change my mind and want more kids but I was already happy with one... having two will be enough.

When my pregnancy test yielded two stripes I wasn't exactly elated and I felt guilty for not being as excited this second time yet annoyed because it caught me at a very hectic time at work and I can certainly do away with the bloating and dizzy spells. I also thought it was too soon and that Nacho needed more of our undivided affection. Memories of emails and phonecalls in between baby's nap, discreetly breastfeeding in public, dairy express after client meetings, 3-minute baths and anxiety attacks over vomit and snot came swarming back. There's also the unsightly dark pouch of a belly that takes too long to go away and the stretchmarks that remain for good. On top of it all, it's the lessened mobility (no running & rowing)and the isolation from the social circle that I have yet to reconnect to.

My concerns may seem selfish and can be solved with available conveniences like infant formula, nurseries, liposuction or a troop of highly paid househelp but I am a woman of limited means yet I intend to give my children the best that I can - the commitment to breastfeed exclusively for at least 6 months, the ability to pay off amortization for a house they can call their own, the attention to recognize their strengths and weaknesses, the fitness to keep up with their energy, the travel opportunities to open up their worlds and the well roundedness to inspire their dreams. As it is I already get very exhausted with my multiple roles in life, I don't want to be spread out too thinly... so again, only two kids for me!

Funny that I never even thought of this cookie-cutter life of "wife-mother-homemaker-entrepreneur" for myself and neither did my family or friends. We thought I'd be a high-powered executive living the swingin' single life! Oh well... here I am and I'm happy =)

Papa's Day

It's been three months since our last househelp. The past 4 weeks have been crazy hectic for both Tats and I so for Father's Day, I proposed a row-eat-movie day underscoring the "date" factor of it just being the two of us. "What about Nacho?" Tats says, "He's sort of the essence of my being a father" - ok fiiiiine, and so Nacho comes along!

The three of us started the day with a trip to the market for our meat supply of the week. I was pointing out the fruits and veggies to my son and for some reason, he would laugh uncontrollably every time I said "pechay"! We went back home for breakfast and shower then off to Cartimar for Tats' jersey... he didn't get to buy anything but I did and we toured Nacho to the pet shops where his mouth was agape the whole time especially when he saw the vibrant fish in the aquarium. Lunch was at Highlands Steakhouse where we were seated near the solo singer/guitarist who Nacho exchanged smiles with the whole time... Tats and I were happy knowing that our son made him feel appreciated amidst the dining crowd. Much later was Nacho's cinema debut. I was very apprehensive that he would make a scene and we will be asked to leave but surprisingly, we got through the entire "X-Men First Class" and actually understood the story!


This day made me realize how lucky Nacho and I are for a husband/ father who provides for us and wants us with him at all times. Happy Father's Day Tats! =)

heart's desires

On the subject of dream cars, Tats wants a Hummer and I want a Rav4, incredulously he exclaimed, "cheap mo naman, dream car na nga Rav4 lng!" Well in the SUV category it's the one I feel I can actually drive and yes, I am a simpleton when it comes to most aspirations of luxuries... I've never really desired Louis Vuitton's monogrammed essentials, if I can actually afford designer accessories I'd probably be happy enough with Kenneth Coles.

The topic has gotten me thinking, do I not put a premium on myself to want only the best in this life? Or maybe cars and fashion just aren't my passions. So I dug deep for my deepest desires and came up with these...
- to see the world with my family, Turkey, most parts of Europe, Japan, most parts of Africa etc.
- a spacious garden where I can savor the finest wines with family and friends, with Tats or with myself
- for my son to study in at least one of the best universities abroad
- for Tats to be able to open the Toy Store of his dreams
- a writing career that can touch lives and help change the world
- a healthier earth
- a safe and happy society

I do have grand dreams after all =)

In your eyes

In your eyes I am beautiful
as if I am the reason that the sun shone
Your look makes me feel like the shiniest apple
and your eyes are for me alone
In these times I bask and cherish
for I know that someday
things won't be the same no matter how hard I wish
you will find another girl my son and make her feel the same way

High Hopes

It is Tats' fervent wish that Nacho take after my smarts and his looks (odavah, ilong pa lang?!)... perish the thought that it be the other way around. Thus, as early as six months our son has been on Cherifer already. Ayoko salubungin pero in fairness, it does seem effective!

Fowl Words

last weekend's highlights, Nacho shouting "CHICKEN" when he saw a hen outside the window and appending "QUACK QUACK" to my, "the duck says..." - I've become such a cliche of a mom!

Little Blackfoot

My husband and I stayed with his parents in the first three years of marriage until getting pregnant made us realize it’s time to grow out of our “boarder-like” existence of being cocooned in our room with junk food and DVDs going out only when called to meals.

We were lucky to find a townhouse in Las Pinas that we could afford through bank loan and amortization started just when we finished paying off our car. The building is old so most of our savings went into the major overhaul but it’s a corner unit facing the park so it seemed more spacious than the 95sqm. two-storey unit that it is.

I took to domesticity like fish to water with my rotating 5-week menu, baby’s daily itinerary and weekend chore & recreation schedule. I enjoyed keeping house and attributed my son’s rosy cheeks to the breeze and sunlight that gently stream from our open yard into the doors and windows.

It is when my son started walking and the househelp had to leave that reality set-in… I am no Martha Stewart!

My work schedule is flexible so I was pretty sure I could manage. As soon as my son slept I quickly went about cooking, washing and cleaning, no problem! Then I took a bath and was ready to play by the time my son awoke. I read all his books and chased him around our bare living room until he got hungry so I gave him a bottle of milk. He contentedly lay down watching TV and I was mighty proud of myself until I saw the bottom of his chubby little feet… they were black!

Apparently my well-ventilated little nest was lined with layers of dust from the intersecting roads outside and sweeping with walis tambo only makes the particles scatter about. I quickly washed my son’s feet and scoured the floor with a damp mop. A closer inspection of the nooks and crannies of our house revealed more dust everywhere and as the reality of a filthy abode sank deeper, my subconscious whispered that it’s also unusually silent… I scanned the room and shrieked in absolute horror at the sight of my son brushing his face against the soiled whiskers of the broom!

I need change, I need to start the doom of the broom, I need help!

My Amazing Nacho-boy!

Of course he's amazing - he's my son!

More than vanity, I say this because like all other mothers, there is no other child more amazing to me than my own. His every fete is an event because he's the only kid I spend the most time with.

At the risk of being shameless talking to anybody who most probably would not care to listen, I'll just write down snippets about Nacho that gets this momma brimming with pride and joy... for his future reference when he already hates me and thinks that I hate him too...
- he knows his alphabet (almost completely) already
- he loves his books & insists we read to him over and over, thank goodness for Dr. Seuss Apple apps
- he can count to ten, but does it only when he thinks nobody's listening
- he likes shocking or disgusting us by sticking his fingers up his nose or chasing us with soiled hands
- he ignores aggression from bigger kids. last Saturday at the grocery, while Nacho was pushing our cart, a girl about 4yrs old holding a hotdog on stick went up to him and started shouting "this is mine! mine". he just stared and went on pushing... of course Tats didn't let it slide and remarked "that's the price of beauty anak... and to think you're the boy", shempre sumimangot yung tatay ng batang babae!
- he has a naughty sense of humor! his favorite play is poking Tats in the bellybutton and nipples, hilarious how his father attempt to shield all 3 from Nacho's attacks
- he would attempt to climb on anything and everything but will go down when you say "Nacho baba!"
- when a car door opens, he'd be the first to climb in... lakwatserong bata!
- he attempts to sing gthe long Tagalog words to Out of Body Special's "Kamakailan Lang"
- he adores me above all else... for now

this hurts me more than it hurts you

had to scold Nacho for tinkering with the socket last night. he gave me a hurt look, tried to suppress his cry, paced, pounded his fist on the wall... and when the broken sobs came, i almost broke down myself. he hugged me from behind still crying... from the other side of the room Tats gloated "so ngayon naiintindihan mo na ang term na - this hurts me more than it hurts you?"

missing out

Nacho now takes off his own clothes, says "take a bath" when he wants one, looks up the night sky and cries out to the "moo!", dances sideways when he hears music and does many other things that surprise me. I thought i was going to be the one to teach and witness him learn everything... but as much as he is on top of my list, he's not the only one on it... in the same way that I'm not the only person in his life he can learn from

The Papa Also Rises

Over a midnight snack of leftover pasta and iced tea, Tats told me how worried he felt about Nacho... particularly how he would fare around other kids.

We came from a rare get together with 3 of my bestest friends from college: Tams who has 2 kids, Mau who's a new mom and Ivy, a bride-to-be in two months. Nacho wreaked havoc in Mau's house, challenged Tams' maternal instincts and terrorized Ivy into wondering if she can handle the whole motherhood gig. He made no connection whatsoever with any of the other kids around.

Being the only grandkid from Tats' side of the family (where we deposit our son 2-4x/ week), Nacho is more used to playing with adults than with children. Previous encounters with older kids usually ended up with the bigger ones grabbing the toys and Nacho moving away to his own play area (usually the stairs). Tats explained to me how it breaks his heart to see our son get upended but also feels proud how he moves on unaffected.

My husband wants what we had with our respective siblings - primary happiness within the family circle that the rest becomes supplementary. He cites the protective shields of Ethan&Yaz, Lois&Carlos - it would be great for Nacho to have a brother or a sister but not yet anytime soon. Right now we want to fill him up with our undivided love until he has enough to share around.

Weaning and Losing

As a first-time mother, I occasionally try to pry myself from entertainment reading (fiction, food blogs and travel magazines) and take to child-rearing literature… apparently there are tons out there preying on a big market of insecure parents like me! No wonder parenting magazines command higher ad rates than the seemingly aggressive Playboy or Cosmo.

Out of all the information mish-mash, the one that struck me was about how “a parent should not control a child but should set a clear path so he doesn’t get lost”.

There are so many things my husband and I want for our son but first we need to narrow our list down to specific and achievable core values we want to develop in him and we identified; JUSTICE, which sums up how he should relate fairly to the people around him, and PRODUCTIVITY, because the good Lord intended for mankind to make full use of His gifts. I don’t have a blueprint for execution yet but what I am sure of is I have to have a strong sense of self first before I can set my son off to anything.

The opportunity for check and balance of “me” came in the form of some friends deciding to merge with two teams to be able to compete in the Camsur International Dragonboat Festival – it was the perfect opportunity to assess how I would fare away from the two most important men in my life.

At 14 months I still breastfed Nacho, the race was in two weeks and I had no intention of taking “dairy express” breaks so I decided that it was time to wean him. He’s fine with daytime formula feeding but evenings were “our” time so on the first attempt at independence he angrily pushed the bottle away and cried out in hunger. After two agonizing nights and four bottles of wasted milk, Nacho finally accepted his defeat and with it the formula I have learned to prepare in total darkness.

Lactation does not stop automatically so on the fourth night when I offered to feed Nacho to empty the tanks, a confused look crossed his face and he pushed me away, my eyes welled up… it was the most bitter success to an accomplished mission.

I know now that my son will have to break my heart with every step he takes towards becoming a man. So for him to grow strong… I have to be stronger.

I Am Mother

I cannot say this often enough about parents... we love them, we hate them then we become them.

My Father's Day gift to Tats was a balloon twisting workshop in UP Diliman last Sunday. It was a seven hour session yet he still wanted the entire household to be around so I prepared for a Sunken Garden picnic for Nacho, Riza and me. Alas, parking is no longer allowed along the oval rim and it was mighty inconvenient to lug Nacho with his stuff, the banig, food and drinks from the car. Given my very limited navigational skills, I drove around the campus once and decided to go back to the ISSI Building where we deposited Tats.

The workshop was at the third floor so I was delighted that on the second floor was a very spacious hallway. There we laid out our picnic paraphernalia complete with iPod and speakers spewing Mother Goose and Filipino nursery rhymes. Nacho quickly went exploring his tiled new playground down on all fours - kids on Bible study break came over to play with him. Tats came down with his first creations; 2 balloons inside a big clear one and a balloon bouquet that really did look like a flower.

We took a quick snack of the sandwiches and pasta dish we brought. Then one look at Nacho's dusty limbs told me that a wet towel just wont do so I whisked him to the Ladies' Room and gave him a quick bath over one sink. Refreshed, we laid on his cot and a momentary latch rendered him knocked out! Riza fell asleep on a bench too when torrential rains poured complete with thunderclaps and lightnings but the two were unfazed.

Seeing my contingent in deep sleep despite the refugee-camp set-up, I could not help but remember my mom. She always brought baon (packed food) wherever we went... and although it always seemed like she carried too much classified into appetizer, main course, dessert and chichiriya, the containers were always empty by the time we got home.I particularly remember the millenium countdown (2000) event at The Fort -it was just a vacant lot back then and the commute was inconvenient enough that my mom still had me and my sisters carry food baskets and a picnic mat. Seeing people our age in full gimik gear, we three girls wished the ground would crack open and swallow us unseen. But true enough, when fireworks lit up the midnight sky, we were comfortably spread out on the mat with yummy food within reach while the rest had to crane their necks to witness the pyro extravaganza that remains unparalled to this day.

When Nacho woke up, I read him a book while Riza packed up and loaded most of our stuff in the car. Then Tats came down with balloons on his head, around his arms and in his hands. The seven hour wait was not as grueling as I feared it would be. But perhaps I've become more patient for my family... just like my mother was to me.

Mrs. Gump

Now I totally get it... Mrs.Gump on her deathbed saying, "God put me on this earth to become your mother". Back when I saw the movie I thought, how sad for a woman to base the significance of her existence on the child she bore... sure Forrest was a wonderful human being but he's still a separate person... was she not important on her own? It was also the same year when Sushmita Sen uttered her response that the "essense of a woman" is in her ability for childbirth bagging her the crown of Ms.Universe 1994.

I am scared shitless that I might screw up as a mom. My son is turning a year old in August and it bothers me that he's temperamental and intensely stubborn. When he wants to be carried and I don't want to give in, he can cry for what seem like hours while throwing an accusing look at me. I've had some success with setting his feeding habits, making him comfortable in water and introducing him to nursery rhymes but the systems I build would easily fall apart in one unsupervised day. I fervently pray that he grows up to be a good, healthy and happy person but I have no idea excatly how I can make it happen.

I understand now that Mrs. Gump was not referring to her significance in the eyes of other people but rather to herself. She was able to raise an incredible human being which to a mother... trumps a successful career or even marriage.

mommyhood

Having a child is truly a full-time job… more so when you make the commitment to breastfeed the exclusively, meaning absolutely no formula. Sure you may be away from your baby once in a while but you better leave an ample supply of pumped milk. Should you decide to bring him along, find out where breastfeeding stations are located… bless SM for putting one in MOA albeit facing the ATM queue but Rustans Glorietta even more for bothering to make theirs look like an actual nursery with lovely wallpaper, comfy couches and basic toiletries. In the absence on such facilities, be ready to get creative… find a place with the least traffic and go about your business discreetly with as much nonchalance as you can muster. Wear button-down tops but for the more modest ones, bring one of ‘em shawl-like covers.
So far, Nacho has been well-behaved when we go out choosing to sleep most of the time and poop galore within the comforts of space and equipment of his pedia’s clinic. Feeding was mostly in the car or a mad dash to an unpopular restaurant where you should have the decency to at least order something.
The bigger challenge is being home alone without a nanny… I have mastered the art of not chewing my hurried meals, taking 3-minute baths and catching up on sleep all according to his biological time clock. It’s a cycle of eating, pooping and sleeping, but sometimes he would cry for no reason despite you exhausting all remedies (including a song and dance number). And just when you decide to put him in a basket to be left on somebody’s doorstep, he’d flash either the kawawa-look or his winning smile and you’re suckered right back to pouring your unconditional love and berating yourself for even having bad thoughts – absolute putty in his tiny little hands.
At the end of the day when your husband is home to temporarily relieve you of yaya-duties and your child is happy and content, you give yourself a pat on the back… then take all you can; food, bath and sleep... tomorrow is another day.

My Ziggy-faced Nacho

Had a most unpleasant experience at the OB-GYN Ultrasound Center Alabang yesterday.
First the doctor was late and then she wouldn't let Tats into the room, "Nakita na naman nya yan dati di ba? Ayan o lalaki, alam nyo na yun di ba?" (he's seen this before already, you know it's a boy right?) I don't know where she got off being overly familiar when I've never encountered her before and the doctors there in previous scans were much nicer. Nacho was kicking and squirming the whole time that horrid woman was running the stick over my belly.

Tats had to contend himself with the screen of the receptionist who was nice enough to interpret the image her first reaction being... "Ayan Sir o, ang laki ng pisngi ng anak nyo!" (your child's cheek is so plump)

At 35 weeks, Nacho is already 6.5lbs and i look like i'm ready to explode anytime. Unenthusiastically, she pointed out the liver, kidney etc. When I asked if the lungs are fully developed, she looked at me incredulously and shook her head as if i just asked the stupidest question of the century.

After paying and getting the results, Tats and I left without bothering to make small talk. As soon as were out the door, we both agreed how much we hated that doctor. Then we opened the envelope and took in the features of our ziggy-faced baby... at least there was something pleasant to balance the day's scale.

The Sucat Road Discourse

Nearing the end of another arduous traffic going home, Tats brought up our dilemma of whether we’re having Nacho baptized or not. Still not equipped with a solution, I closed the matter by holding off the decision until his first birthday when we can celebrate both milestones together should we go for the affirmative.

Although Catholic-raised, Tats and I stopped going to church a long time before we even met. Despite his mom’s insistence for a church ceremony, we went on to have a civil wedding. We believe in the existence of God sans the religious faith but admittedly, the absence of structured belief give way to so many liberties.

We both agree that our relationship lacks spirituality… and how are we to impart to our child something that we barely have? We pondered on whether desire was enough to form a link with God or helping people out would be a more productive project to bond over. But what sort of project?

Before we could come up with an answer, we were home already where the basic needs of being sheltered, fed, cleansed and comforted took precedence over abstract matters such as nourishing the spirit.

We are not bad people, but we live mainly for ourselves in our own little world. For Nacho we want a more meaningful life, the sort that may not bring him material wealth but so much fulfillment and happiness.