Come Heel or High Water Retention

Have you noticed that wearing high-heeled shoes makes you look thinner? It instantly transforms a frumpy outfit into a sexy one. 

So now that I've gained some weight, I'm back to wearing heels. Problem is, that's extra weight to carry on your tippy-toes. 

Isn't it a bummer that the fat (does it sound better to call it water retention?) that makes you need heels also makes it harder to wear them?

Perfect, juuust perfect. 

Sigh.

Photo from garancedore.

Click here for previous posts on fatness.

I'm a Valentine's Day Scrooge

Actually, sappiness & cheesiness on any day elicits a puke-in-my-mouth rather than a pitter-patter-in-my-heart. 

Anything heart-shaped will earn a WTF (unless they're unexpected like this).

Red roses will also make me rather kill myself than get kilig. 

I would much prefer this hilarious killer-of-a-flower-arrangement from St. Jo's.

Oh, I'm not completely heartless. I admit these stuffed toy bouquets from @panchporkishbacon made me "Aaawwww". 

And don't get me wrong. I looove flowers! I'm not one of those who think it's a waste of money coz they die anyway. I just have high flower standards. Like Petalier's Ecuadorian roses. Actually, it isn't really the type of rose, but more, the classy, elegant arrangement. And I prefer that they're closed...

Rather than in a full bloom. Love the stripes though. 

But come to think of it, it isn't that my flower standards are high - they're just unique. I don't want the everyday rose or mum. When tulips weren't so common, they were my fave. But now, I'm a sucker for pretty hydrangeas or white lilies any day.

Sigh... Valentine's Day... The day of cheesy, common clichés is just hard to swallow for someone who requires authenticity and a personal touch. I cannot wait for this excuse-of-a-day-to-be-sappy to end.

Sappy Valentine's Day everyone!

Photos from here, St. Jo Flowers, @panchoporkishbacon & Petalier. 

Click here and here for previous posts on Valentine's Day.

Today, I am unloving...

... that I wasn't successful at teaching Noah good table manners.

I tried, I swear. But he would always complain that it was impossible because he was left-handed. Then I'd attempt to demonstrate it to him with my left hand. But since I'm right-handed, it felt so awkward that I couldn't do it right either. So years have passed, he's now 12 years old and he still holds a spoon like one holds a bike handle...

... rather than hold it like you would a pencil. 

Today, and maybe forever, I unlove... that I failed at teaching Noah good table manners. 

Photos are from acupofjo, fromainsleywithlove & annnniegirl. 

Click here for previous posts from the Today, I am unloving... series. 

Broken Traditions

This past holiday season, Noah reminded me how important tradition is.

I did not realize I had been breaking so many traditions until Noah pointed it out the morning of NYE.

Apparently, I had been upsetting him since the week before Christmas when I did not put a star on top of our Christmas tree. I went for a different tree this year because the horse-lover in me couldn't resist these horse bag charms.

So I put them on our tree.

When Noah asked for a star, I put a yellow horse at the top of our tree.

He groaned & put his palm on his forehead, but I didn't realize he was serious about disliking the non-star trimming.

Then the morning of NYE, his dad told him that there might not be a fountain at fireworks this year because fireworks weren't as readily available this year.

The last straw was when he realized he didn't have any polka-dotted clothes and, trying to comfort him, I said, "It's okay. I don't have anything polka-dotted either". That's when he burst out, "We're breaking so many rules! No star on the Christmas tree, no fountain, no polka dots!"

And so I scrambled to DIY bowties & a bow out of fabric tape a few hours before midnight to keep at least one tradition alive for Noah.

Noah reminded me that family traditions are treasured heirlooms you pass on to your children so they can pass them on to their children. They are meaningful experiences that will become precious memories they will look back on when they're all grown up.

His dad & I broke the news about our amicable separation about a year ago. I guess, as Susan Lieberman said, "Family traditions help us define who we are; they provide something steady, reliable and safe in a confusing world." And I guess Noah needed that. 

I am so glad, for my kids' sake, that despite our now 8-year-long separation, we still make it a point to spend special occasions together.

Our family photo is a tradition that we will always, always keep.

Photos are my own & from acupofjo. 

Click here for previous posts on Christmas, New Year, horses.

dear car manufacturers

I really appreciate that you've started to think about moms' needs with child-lock on doors & car trunks that open with a push of a button for when both of mom's arms are filled with grocery bags and the baby.

I am also glad that you have also started to think about needs of women in general (mom or non-mom) when you put a light on the carshade mirror. I was ecstatic when one of you (Subaru) has even allowed women to say goodbye to soiled pant legs with the Forester doors that open cleanly (It's why I bought mine!). 

But there is one basic woman driver need you have not addressed: a place for our purse. 

You've installed places for coins, cups, sunnies and phones. But there remains to be no space for our purse. 

Sure, when we're alone in the car, we can put it on the front passenger seat. But when all seats are filled, our purse gets lodged in the middle of the front seats - on the center console. And as you try to make the console modern-looking with a curvier or slimmer design, our purse ends up falling to the front or back with every step on the brake or gas pedal.

And because we multi-task in the car (chances are, we just used that light on the carshade mirror to put on makeup), our purses are usually open in the car so a stop or go at the traffic light could result in the contents of our bag spilling out onto the floor. 

You have to agree that "What's in your bag?" flatlays are better found on Instagram or magazines and NOT on our car floor.

Not to mention the possible damage this may do to precious purses when they tumble & turn inside the car. Now I can't help wish my purse had its own seat & special seatbelt!

Oh and I don't mean this place and seatbelt for my purse! If I'm worried about the damage tumbling & turning INSIDE the car will do, imagine how horrified I will be if my purse was OUTSIDE the car, under the sun or the rain. No, not like this, please.

Plus, we need our purses within easy reach so we can easily hand our kids a wet wipe when they spill something at the backseat or pull out the oddest-but-surprisingly-useful things inside a woman's purse like playing cards, a teabag or a cookie for when you're hungry in heavy traffic.

So dear car manufacturers, could I please ask you to design a car with a special place for a woman's purse? If you do, you will surely have a special place in every woman-driver's heart!

Photos from here and annnnniegirl.

Click here for previous posts from the Dear... series.

when personalized isn't personalized

For a couple of Christmases now, I've been giving personalized gifts. I started with personalized gift tags. Then the following year, I gave away personalized keychains and wrapping paper. This year, I gave away personalized wristlets, bookmarks, mouse pads & cord organizers.

Then yesterday, in a group chat with my friends, my friend Tam said she was roasting a prime rib for Noche Buena and that she's using the meat thermometer that my other friend Liam gave her. 

And it dawned on me that personalizing generic things like keychains & wristlets isn't truly a personalized gift. I realized that printing or hot-stamping someone's name or initials onto everyday items has duped me into thinking I was giving my friends something special for Christmas.  

But a truly personalized gift is something you carefully choose for a specific person. It is a gift you give to only one - not all - of your friends because each person has his own unique interests and personality. It is giving a meat thermometer to your friend who roasts prime rib for Noche Buena. Or a Where's the Wookiee? book to a Where's Waldo and Star Wars fan. Or Flight 001's Spacepak pouch with separate clean & laundry compartments for your OC friend who loves to travel. Or a gym bag filled with a dri-fit shirt, Jordan shorts, compression pants, sports socks & a towel for your basketball-addicted friend. Or giving your osteoporosis-laden grandmother, who just sits all day, a digital frame filled with photos of her children & grandchildren.

So next Christmas, I promise to try harder to give meaningful, well-thought-out, carefully-chosen -- truly personalized -- gifts to the people most dear to me.

Photos are my own.

oops, my neurosis is showing...

Like I told you here, I looove the IG account @averageparentproblems. But the black header & footer that @mommyshorts uses on @averageparentproblems just didn't go with the natural lighting & light color palette with touches of pastel or bright pinks of the @insta2yearold sceenshots in my post. 

So in this post, I'm sharing some of @averageparentproblems' hilarious posts that didn't make the cut in my original blogpost. 

There are other even funnier posts, but I could only bring myself to include those with black accents in the photos to go with the standard black header & footer. 

I couldn't pick posts with natural, diffused lighting because I personally feel they don't go with a black frame.

I picked photos that probably used fluorescent, halogen or incandescent lighting so the shadows go with the black frame (This is probably why @mommyshorts picked that black frame... because these harsh lights are common at home where those average parent problems usually take place... especially since the photos are crowd-sourced). 

Yes, my neurosis is showing again. Gah!

Photos are screenshots of @averageparentproblems' IG posts.

Click here for the of-dots-&-things version of this post. Click here for previous posts from the Oops, My Neurosis Is Showing... series.