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.

Today, I am unloving...

Noah goes back to school next week. So today, I am unloving... that summer vacation is ending because I will miss staying up late in bed with Noah talking about the oddest random things. 

During the past two months, because I didn't need to get him fed, bathed and sleeping by 830pm, we could have the longest conversations. Once, he brought up wanting to live in the US instead of the Philippines. So I enlightened him on the pros of living in the Philippines. We also talked about the cons of living in either country. This led to a conversation about our third-world state and what got us here. But the best part is that we got to talking about what we (and in the future, he) can do to make the Philippines a better place to live in. :)

Another night, we were talking about me going to work the next day. He pretend-cried and said, "You don't love me. You want to leave me." So I asked him if him leaving for playdates or sleepovers with his buddies meant he didn't love me. Of course it didn't, so he got my point. Then he said, I wish we were super rich so you don't need to work so we can buy stuff. I realized then, that our rushed conversations during school nights led him to the wrong idea about work. When he would tell me not to go to work, I would respond with, "How will I afford to buy you Legos?" or something like that to cut our conversation short and get him to sleep. But since it was summer and we could stay up all night, I got a chance to tell him I work because I love what I do. And I got to tell him that he needs to figure out what he loves to do and make that his career. Of course, he still maintains he wants to be a YouTuber when he grows up. Gah!

On a different night, Noah asked who puts money in the bank so Isabella can get money from the ATM. So I launched into how bank accounts work. This led to me showing him my BPI mobile app which led to a conversation about savings accounts, loans and investments. 

Things I never thought would be kid-friendly topics figured into our nightly conversations just because one convo led to another then to another. And this was only possible because we had all night. 

But when school starts, I'll be back to cutting our convos short, in a panic to get him to bed on time. I will certainly miss the learning opportunities in our conversations. So today, I am unloving that Noah and I will no longer have time for our long, random, insightful conversations. 

Photo from nyctaughtme.

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

dear DepEd

Dear DepEd, I am extremely thrilled to hear that you have partnered with Johnson & Johnson and Play Pilipinas on the advocacy campaign 'Di Lang Laro Ang Laro. I totally agree that 1 hour of daily active play will ensure a child's holistic development. 

But I really wish you could do something about the volume of homework and the highly-advanced lessons in private traditional schools nowadays. By the time kids finish studying for quizzes (Noah's school has a not-more-than-3-quizzes-per-day rule at that) and doing their homework, there is very little time left to play (worse, if your child rides the schoolbus home).

It doesn't help that the lessons are harder nowadays with preschoolers tackling multiplication (I swear, those flash cards came out not earlier than Grade 4 during my time) and Grade 1 students already studying fractions and capacity. My Grade 1 Noah even had to memorize how long it takes for each planet to revolve around the sun (from Mercury's 88 days to Neptune's 165 years), including the number of moons of and the gases (like carbon dioxide, helium, hydrogen & methane) found on each planet, for his 4th Quarter Exams this year!

I am pleasantly surprised that they are able to learn these things at such a young age, but I think it is much too taxing on them -- limiting their time to play, their time to enjoy childhood.

I know that it probably isn't you, dear DepEd, that requires these levels of academic excellence. It is highly likely that this is the schools' own doing. But just as you impose the minimum academic requirement on these schools' curriculum, I wish you would also set the maximum. After all, while too little is indeed bad, too much is just as bad.

Don't get me wrong, dear DepEd. I am glad that the stewards of education of our country understands that the playground is also a classroom for mental development...

... for physical development...

... and for social development. 

I just really wish that my child had more time to learn these things in the playground rather than doing worksheets on his study desk.

Disclaimer: I am writing this without having done any research on DepEd's required curriculum. I am just writing as a mother who, while watching her child study every day after school, worries that he is missing out on his childhood.

Photos are from  annnniegirl and courtesy of Johnson's Baby.

Click here for previous posts from the Dear... series. Click here for the of-dots-&-things version of this post.

old wives' tales

There are some old wives' tales - "mga pamahiin ng matatanda" - that I realize I instinctively believe for a few seconds until my good sense takes over and reminds me there is no truth to them. Like when I saw this photo of a child sitting on the hood of a car... My automatic reaction was that she'd get "balisawsaw", that peeing problem my Lola [grandmother] said I'd get from sitting on hot things like a car's hood or concrete stairs that have turned hot under the sun. I feel the same about itchy palms. When my palms get itchy, my automatic reaction is to put my hands inside my pockets... until I realize I can't suddenly turn rich & lucky by merely putting itchy palms in my pockets. I still believe that touching your eyes after touching a butterfly can make you blind. Gosh, is there any truth to this? Or is this also an old wives' tale?

I have to admit though that there are myths I wish my kids still believed. Particularly those old rituals on New Year's Eve. When I look back on New Year's Eves of my childhood, I remember how fun it was to jump 3 times with my brother & cousins when the clock struck 12. I also remember a NYE when we crawled around - underneath our dining table - with huge luggages believing that ritual would assure us of travel that year. 

Noah is quite a realist, reluctant to jump this past NYE because he found it ludicrous that jumping on NYE would make him tall. To some extent, I agree that we shouldn't propagate these myths (Just last week, a co-parent at Noah's school said Noah was "handsome. Pwera, usog.", licked her thumb and reached out to touch Noah with it. Thankfully, another co-parent stopped her, saying, "Hindi totoo yang usog-usog na yan!". Thank God, coz I was too shocked to keep her saliva from touching my son!). But it's still a shame because the NYE rituals we did when we were kids were quite fun to do. And I can't help wish that Noah embraced the fun of it more (vs. half-heartedly jumping). After all, while they're really old wives' tales, they still make for such happy, nostalgic stories of childhood. 

Photo from annnniegirl. 

Today, I am unloving...

... the hubby's and my poor family vake planning skills. The last time we went on a family vake to the States was during the Christmas season. We scheduled our theme park trip between Christmas & New Year and it was our worst decision ever! Waiting time at the line of each attraction was at least an hour, 15 minutes. And the park streets were so filled with people that we couldn't scoot to each attraction. We had to inch our way slowly with the throng. 

We ended up splitting up just so the kids could experience as many rides as they could. Noah and I rode It's A Small World while Isabella and the hubby rode the Matterhorn.

Photo ops were close to impossible - unless we wanted a photo of the attraction with a mob of people we didn't know. So our best one of Cinderella's castle was one that skimmed the top of the crowd's heads and captured just the upper part of the castle.

I would have thought we'd learned our lesson after that awful trip to Disneyland. But we didn't. We recently booked a family trip to the States in April and turns out, our days in Disneyland & Universal Studios will fall during Spring Break. Aaaagggghhhh!

We're hoping it won't be as bad as our December trip. Maybe we can go around the park together as a family this time. But I expect we will again end up with photos of just the top of the castle.

With our vake planning skills, maybe the only way we can get a photo of the bottom part of the castle is if we build one ourselves. :(

Sigh. Today, I am unloving... our poor family vacation scheduling skills. 

Photos are my own and from annnniegirl.

Click here for another theme park wish of mine.

my birthday wish

*I wrote this post before my birthday but wasn't able to publish it on time.

My birthday wish... is to sleep in even for just 1 day. I just want to wake up on my own, when I've had a full REM. Not because of my alarm blaring in my ear.

Weekdays, I wake up at 520 to wake Noah up and nag (yes, nag!) him to go through the morning's necessary activities like eat breakfast, eat breakfast fast, eat breakfast faster, dress up, brush teeth, etc.

Saturdays are the same because Isabella has track practice at 730am and Noah has basketball school.

Sundays, we have Sunday School which isn't so early but Noah wakes me up early (why does he wake up early on his own on the one day he doesn't need to?!). I eventually get to go back to sleep. But that just gives me a few minutes before my alarm goes off to remind me to get ready for church.

So I just really want to sleep in...

These days, it would be the best birthday gift! :)

P.S. I was down with a really bad flu during my birthday week. And I got to sleep a lot. I felt horrible, but I did get my wish to sleep. Birthday Fairy, boy, you are one mischievous little imp! Sigh... I guess it's true you should be careful what you wish for.

Don't worry, I had a fun 5-day-long belated birthday celebration after I got well. I had 1 breakfast, 2 lunches & 3 birthday dinners with dear friends - with 2 of those birthday dates at Cafe 1771 so I got to have 2 slices of my fave coffee pie from here. :)

Photo from heritage.

my short old year

With the new year just around the corner, I started to look back on the year that was. But all I could recall was from September onwards - from the time I went on sabbatical here and started spending my everydays with the kids. I realize now, it's when my life in 2012 began.

To be honest, it was scary at first. A very different life from what I'd known and loved all those years. 

But I took a chance...

... and it turned out to be absolutely perfect.

My 2012 began in September. But my short old year has taught me so much more about life than all those long old years of the past. 

Photos from heritage, i'mjustsaying and blondiensc.

Click here and here for previous posts about my sabbatical.

mornings will never be the same

I cannot imagine the grief those parents of Sandy Hook Elementary School in Connecticut are feeling. I cannot imagine how they dropped off their kids in school, like they do everyday, but this time, it was for the very last time.

When I was working, I couldn't help feel emotional every time I dropped off Noah on his school's driveway. Partly, it was the daily routine of a kiss & a hug in the car, a flying kiss we would both blow to each other once he got out of my car, the imaginary catching of the kiss and planting it on a facial part we so desired that day (nose or cheek, sometimes, even forehead). At some point, Noah started to rub the hand that caught my kiss with his other hand and would plant my kiss on both his cheeks. The wistfulness every morning was also partly brought about by the sight of Noah, with his bag, walking into his school. Somehow, seeing him carry or pull his bag himself into the doorway of his big school made me feel my baby boy was all grown up. Partly, too, it was because it would be another 14 or so hours 'til I would get home from work & see him again.

But now that I am a stay-at-home mom (with no nanny), I realize our mornings have changed. Mornings are a frenzy: waking the kids up, rushing them through eating breakfast, through brushing their teeth & through putting on their uniform so we are out of the door at a time that they won't be late. The roadworks in our area here make the drive to school equally stressful, especially when I try to squeeze in an oral review of what Noah was taking a quiz on that day while deciding which alternate route would result in the lightest traffic. As I drop them off at school, I throw last-minute reminders at them (check the lost & found for your notebook or I'll fetch you at this time at this gate). There might still be a kiss & a hug while I'm rattling off the reminders but they certainly don't feel like the ones I used to enjoy (albeit, with longing) when I was still working.

I cannot imagine what it would be like if last Friday morning turned out to be the last time I'd see my kids. I just cannot.

What I can do... what I vow to do... is to make it a point to share a tender moment with them every morning, like I did when I was working. Last Friday was the end of absent-minded kisses & hugs with reminders in my mind. From now on, there will only be savored kisses & hugs. I'm not sure we can bring back the flying kiss blowing, catching & planting routine because Noah's hands are full, carrying his lunchbox, thermos & plastic envelope (and Isabella is much too old for that). But a meaningful glance back at me before they walk into school will do just fine. It will be our new special moment. From now on.

My heart goes out to the families of the victims of Sandy Hook. Their mornings will never be the same again. Ever. But I pray that they remember the special mornings they did get to share with the child they lost. And that one day, with God's healing power, they will be able to find hope in the dawn of a new day.

Photo from nyctaughtme.

wonder lost?

Noah recently declared that he doesn't believe in Santa anymore. The news broke my heart a little. Okay, a lot. And I was grappling with how to deal with this new reality.

At first, I thought of bombarding him with the Santa proof here (and even add this new one here). But I later decided it didn't make sense to convince him Santa is real, when he really actually isn't.

It took me a while to figure out why it affected me so much. Watching Rise of the Guardians helped me realize that it wasn't mere wistfulness at my 7-year old boy growing up so fast that bothered me. It was a fear that he would lose what believing in Santa represents.

In the movie, Santa showed nesting dolls of his character - how he's seen as jolly or even mysterious. But his "center" - the smallest Santa doll was wide-eyed because Santa's "center" - is wonder.

That's what I was afraid Noah would lose... Childlike wonder... The ability to marvel at magic and have faith in a fairytale's happy ending.

Then at bedtime on the day we watched Rise of the Guardians, Noah urged me to pray that he wouldn't have a bad dream. I was still distraught and so grabbed the opportunity to push another childhood myth from the movie on him, "But Sandman will make sure you have good dreams." He adamantly replied, "That's fantasy, not reality!", and demanded we pray. Immediately after our prayer, he was okay - suddenly unafraid. And I realized he hadn't lost the ability to marvel at magic & believe in a happy ending. He believes in God's miraculous power. And that's the only real magic there is anyway. :) 

Photos are from here, here and here.

Rise of the Guardians is showing now in cinemas. Collect Rise of the Guardian toys with your McDonald's Happy Meal!

oops, my neurosis is showing...

Discovering here that there are things I would have missed had I been at work, I got to thinking about how much I must have missed when Isabella was growing up. It gave me an awful, awful feeling.

Since I didn't have the luxury of taking a break from work then, I started to wonder if work got in the way of mothering when Isabella was a young child. I began to get neurotic, wondering if Isabella's low regard for tidy hair is my fault after all. She didn't seem to adopt the habit of brushing her hair before leaving the house so it is always quite unkempt.

And I wonder if this is because I never spent time fixing her hair when she was a young child. At most, I gathered her hair in pigtails or a ponytail. But I never gave her a fancy braid like this.

Brushing Isabella's hair took only a second or two. And maybe that's why she takes just about that much time with her hair today.

Is this one of those things I missed - one of those things I didn't get to teach her - because I was at work? Had I devoted a bit more time to fixing her hair, would she be sporting a pretty braid like this today?

Awful, awful feeling. Am I right to be guilty? Or is my neurosis showing yet again?

Photos from acupofjo. If it's not too late for you, check out Jo's blog for her pretty hair tutorials.

Click here for previous posts from the Oops, My Neurosis Is Showing... series. Click here for the ofdotsnthings version of this post.

the problem with a 7-year gap

While I was post-less since (aaacckk!) halloween (click here for my confession), I took to Facebook to post short updates.

Two FB friends recently mentioned to me that it seemed Noah was my favorite. And I realized then that herein lies the downside of my kids' 7-year gap...

True, the volume of posts (anecdotes & photos) of Noah on my FB page is bigger than that of Isabella's. Partly because a 7-year-old naturally has so much more moments of say, calling fertilizer "karabaw's poop" in a test, than a 15-year-old would. But also because Noah is too young to care if I embarrass him; and Isabella, at 15, I assume would be. So I censor my updates on Isabella and when I do publish a post about her, I refrain from tagging her. I am so afraid I will embarrass her that I ask permission to post a photo of her on FB.

In fact, I recently watched Isabella compete in her first track & field meet. Had it been a school program of Noah, I would have sat with him while waiting for his turn to perform, taken gazillions of photos of him (& his friends) at every opportunity. But at Isabella's track meet, I resisted the urge to hover. I sat at a distance from her. I still took a lot of photos (that I will NOT upload on FB without her approval), but I did so from a distance, putting my cam's zooming ability to the test. It didn't help that I was the only parent there watching. I kept wondering if she'd rather I just left. So I tried to act nonchalant and tried hard not to cheer so loudly during her events.

Yes, this is the problem with my kids' 7-year gap. It can be misinterpreted as favoring one over the other. When the truth is, I love both of them equally. I just need to show that love in an age-appropriate way. And because their age-gap is so huge, my posts about them will inevitably be remarkably different. After all, they are worlds apart. One of them is kissing only Mommy these days while the other could already be kissing boys... 

... (though I seriously hope not. Yet.). I can broadcast anything & everything about Noah - in big, bold letters & an exclamation point. But Isabella's stories need to remain thought balloons & my reaction to them, in parentheses.

Photos from pinkwallpaper & annnniegirl.

Click here for a previous post about my kids' 7-year gap & a feeble attempt at poetry.

How Halloween didn't go exactly as planned...

I had a specific criteria for Noah's Halloween costume this year. First, I didn't want to spend so much (after all, I no longer have a monthly salary). Second, I wanted him to be comfortable (I didn't want him to feel hot in thick, full-body covering). Third, I didn't want his costume to be very common. But most importantly, I wanted Noah to want his costume - to love it.

So I started by asking Noah what he wanted to be this Halloween. He answered, "Captain America". Okay, I admit, like Pat of 101gramsofeyecandy here, I love crafts but 90% I do in my head and only 10% actually get done (okay, maybe just 5%). So off to the department store we trekked. Noah wanted the hard-plastic mask and not the soft cloth-mask the commonly available Captain America costumes come in. He also didn't like the readily-available costume because it was light blue, not dark blue (as you know from here, Noah is quite a perfectionist). Since the mask cost about as much as the costume, I was quite glad the Captain America plan didn't work out.

So I searched Noah's cabinets for something that would work and found his eyeglasses and Harry Potter wand (which my brother handcrafted for him a while back). Then I searched the web for photos of Harry and found this.

Perfect! Coz I thought younger Harry's cape & Hogwarts uniform with the tie would be too hot to go trick-or-treating in. Plus, Noah had this Old Navy shirt in his closet already! I thought, how comfy it would be to go trick-or-treating in a t-shirt!

Armed with my internet photo, I successfully convinced Noah to want to dress up as Harry Potter. I just needed to get him round-rimmed glasses (as I said, he's a perfectionist). Just the cost of play glasses, I was fulfilling everything on my criteria!

Then... I got the call from my mommy-friend C. Turns out, another mommy-friend hatched the idea of making our boys come as Ninjago masters (the characters of the Lego Ninja show on Cartoon Network).

My mommy-friend C is a true crafter - actually doing the crafts instead of just in her head. So she made these unique costumes for the boys.

Noah's the white ninja.

Oh, and I just had to show you this. Isn't this the cutest Sensei Wu ever?

So that's how Halloween this year didn't go the way I planned. I ended up spending on a costume and Noah did not only end up going trick-or-treating in a long-sleeved shirt & vest, he also went around in full headgear! But he didn't care about the heat. He had the most fun at the back of C's pick-up with the rest of his Ninjago friends. Just posing at PhotoMania's photobooth seemed like a lot of fun!

I did tick 2 things off my list. It was a unique costume - the boys won a prize for it and one kid even approached me to ask where Noah got his costume. And Noah absolutely loooooved his costume. And at the end of the day, that is all that matters.

What about you? What did your kids come as this year? Did you make the costumes yourself? Or did you go for a store-bought one?

Photos are my own and from nyctaughtme, here and here.

Click here for the costume Kris of ocmominmanila made for her daughter (yes, Kris has more DIY-genes in her than I do). Click here for previous Halloween posts.

Isabella: then & now

I was quite captivated by this series of photos. Later, I realized that I was drawn to them because they perfectly depict how Isabella is these days.

She tends to shy away from the camera.

She keeps to a little nook in the room, so quiet, you wouldn't even notice she's there...

... reading either downloaded fanfic or, like last night, The Mark of Athena.

Pretty ironic because I remember how she used to love the camera, how she would gamely pose...

... always animated & gregarious - certainly not quiet...

... and hardly ever alone. She was so sociable and desired company so much, I don't remember her ever engaging in solitary play as a child.

Truly, 15-year-old Isabella is remarkably different from her 6-year-old self. One thing that has not changed however, is her love for company. Yes, my once-chatterbox now tends to read quietly in her little nook, but it's a nook in my room. We may not be doing the same thing together like we used to, but I am perfectly happy doing our own thing - me, blogging or watching a DVD and her, reading, but both of us - in the same room. I love this...

... especially when she glances my way every once in a while.

Photos from acupofjo.

Click here for a previous post on how I get my now quiet teen to bring back the chatterbox in her.

Today, I am unloving...

Today, I am unloving... a particular motherhood routine (see previous post about my favorite motherhood ritual here)... Because Noah's yaya (nanny) left us in June and I haven't replaced her. Am thinking 7-year-old Noah no longer needs a yaya (am afraid having one won't teach him to be independent). So I'm doing all the mothering chores these days. And the motherhood routine I've been so unloving is cutting Noah's nails. The white edge of his nail starts so low (vs. starting at the very tip of his fingers) so he mutters "ouch!" a lot when am cutting them.

 

And for some reason, his nails seem to grow so darn fast! I seem to need to cut them every couple of days!

 

To make matters worse, they're not only long, they're also really dirty!

 

 

And yes, it seems Noah is literally willing to get his hands dirty! I don't know where Noah goes or what he touches, but there is often a black line of dirt where the white edge begins. No, not close to the nail tip, but the other end of the white edge -- where the nail touches the finger, making it even harder to clean.

 

Gah! These days, I am unloving... cutting my little boy's nails.

 

Photos from i'mjustsaying.

 

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

comedic births

I always thought giving birth would fall under either the drama or horror genre. Drama because I've seen so many tear-jerking mom & newborn scenes in Johnson's Baby commercials. And Horror because giving birth was my greatest fear. Little did I know that after my babies crowned, it was going to be more of a Comedy.

 

When I gave birth to Isabella, I was on epidural (as I said, my low pain tolerance made me scared s---less of giving birth). Epidural is the best, best thing! You are awake and are able to contribute to the birthing process because you need to bear down and push. But you don't feel a thing. To the point that I was still pushing and the doctors had to say, "Misis, tama na po. Nakalabas na." (Missus, stop pushing now. The baby is out.). It was quite embarrassing then, but in retrospect, it's actually pretty funny.

 

Then during Noah's birth, it got quite suspenseful. I lost a lot of blood and after Noah came out, I heard the doctors ask for a unit of blood. Then I heard panicked voices yelling, "30 na lang BP! Asan na yung dugo?!... Zero na ang BP!" (BP is down to 30. Where is the blood?!... BP is down to zero!). I heard the heartbeat monitor go from a slow & regular "toot... toot... toot..." to a very quick "toottoottoottoottoot" I remember the thoughts running in my head: "Oh no! Am I dead already? [toottoottoottoottoot in the background led to] Naaaahhh... If I were, then the sound of my heartbeat monitor would be one long 'toooooooooooooot' vs. toottoottoottoottoot, like on TV." Then I remember chastising myself, "Duh. If you were dead, you wouldn't hear anything, let alone a toot!"

 

I obviously survived Noah's birth, that is, after 4 units of blood. And now, I can't help shake my head and clap my forehead with my palm at the memory of the now-comedic conversation I was having with myself. What the heck was I thinking?!

You see? Isabella and Noah's births had some funny moments. I wonder if their comedic births had anything to do with the sense of humor I so love in both of them...

Photo from annnniegirl.