beautiful dilemma

So there I was last night.  Another dream yet fulfilled.  I have imagined my aspirations coming true but not exactly how they are happening now. As they don't come in glamorous ways.  They however come subtly, one by one, in unexpected installment so that I could actually savor each.

Whoever make them happen just knows his ways of perfect giving.  Where, how, the timing - they come ever so delicately, like the muted rains on a breezy afternoon.   How would one be ever thankful is one of the most beautiful dilemma that could ever beset someone.

living a dream

Some four or five years ago, I said about achieving a childhood dream, and that I was currently working on it.  After years of on and off luggage-sized eye bags, loads of migraine and in between the acquired talent of 30-second briskly changing diapers, yesterday, over some coffee and with hubby, I officially started living it.

I was ecstatic within.
Thankful.
Always.

when i didn't wish on a falling star

I sat by the bench
in pyjamas
in front of a closed
sari-sari store
by the dusty road
no moon, few stars
in my direct horizon
dim, with one post lit
and the occasional
bright car lights
of automobile-passers-by
riders in motorbikes
some with helmets
most have not
one, two, three cars
and then there were
flashes of lighting
somewhere, in the distance
I willed myself to sit still
no soul around
air is almost nil
Suddenly a shooting star
no, a falling star
I watched it
diminish in mid air,
in the nearby dark,
serene school grounds
No wishes came
things done and gone
cannot be undone
the wish of undoing
cannot be granted,
no way.
I stirred.
Mirages formed
My wet eyes
my sinuses throbbing
clogged, in pain.
I stood up and
walked the unlit
alley back home.

5.18.2012

breaking dawn

I didn't realize it's already almost 11 at night.

I just finished the second installment of Breaking Dawn.  I saw the first the other night and,

oh, I'll skip the gushing. But really I just gushed within and wondered why I skipped watching these movies and totally shunned them.  Well, I saw the second installment of the whole saga and didn't like it primarily because Edward was so white (although yeah I know he's a vampire) and they spoke in hush hush. Except for Jacob who, I (insert: my heart skipping a beat) dig (yeah like i'm a midschooler hehe), the flick didn't appeal to me.

And now, wow, I missed a lot, I realized.  The saga is awesome, at least at this point.  Ang ganda, especially the first part of breaking dawn.  The movie is oozing with love, family, life and friendship.  By far, one of the most sensible movie I have seen this year.  Oh, forget that they're vampires and wolves.  Jacob can't be set aside of course.

Part 2 had to end with a lovely song which I somehow expected yet still surprised me.  Reminded me of a very special friend who loved the song that I had to ask the person once why.  Queerly for a man, he said he just loved it.  It just had to fill in that itsy bitsy space to totally have me smitten.

Lovely night.

life is wonderful

I gave birth to Baby F at 9.31 in the morning of the 20th of October, a Monday, on my 38th week of pregnancy. Just like with my first, which was 6 years ago, I am two weeks early than the doctor's EDD. Sunday, we went to hear mass and because the church was just a stone's throw away, we just walked. Queerly, my legs felt heavy and so I turtle-walked the few meters to the church. Father Rex H. was in the middle of his sermon and boy, his voice was all ringing loud and clear all over the place. I had to brace myself and lean by the pew when I stand. The bearing down pain was starting to cause strain. At the end of the mass, Father pointed out 3 reminders. I was oblivious, until he said something about latecomers. Okay, that included us.  That was us. Blah, blah. Ouch, ouch!

After lunch I decided to take a quick nap to replenish my energy. I slept at 1 pm and woke up at 5pm. Right, no longer a nap but a full-blown sleep.

Still, later the night I resolved not to stay up late. I was trying to save energy. Something in me tells me, it's near. So I retired at 7 pm. Still wide awake at 11. That's when contractions started their consistent coming and going. My head started doing  a virtual checklist - discharge, peeing a lot, pain. I timed the contractions. Jotted down notes on my cp. My mother asked me every time I went to the CR and pee.

"Wala pa?" she’d ask.

"Alin ma?" I would ask with a bit of zest.

My mother was sure worried.  Although she knew I don’t welcome worry and panic and she tried to hide them, I could nevertheless sense them.

And then by past 12 midnight there was the bloody show. This is it, I thought.  Relief, excitement, bit of physical pain.  Still, excitement.  So, this is the big day.  October 20.

Dressed up, picked up the hospital bag, and we headed to the RHU birthing facility. Just as planned.

My mother, who is a registered midwife herself, called up our midwife, Nay Conching. Nay Conching is the resident midwife at the RHU while my mother is assigned another item.  

They are office mates and kumadres.

The night was a bit chilly and they all wore sweaters.  Everyone had the excited aura.  They probably saw it in me.  Nay Conching kept complimenting me.

At the RHU, I started pacing back and forth while Mama and Nay Conching fell into some job-related chat.  Mama made coffee for us three.  The birthing facility was air conditioned and the breeze outside felt Christmas.  I was feeling good.  But thank God, I thought, when they started talking about some birth disasters which Nay Conching had the occasion to handle.  I couldn’t even retell them now I might scare mom-wannabes who might read this. At that point, I paced back and forth all the more in front of them. And heavens, it worked.  They stopped and Nay Conching suggested that I lie down. 

               Gumana.  Nahilo si Nay Conching.

By 5am, still no progress, we decided to go back home.  Malapit lang naman. 

At home, I started feeling sleepy.  But before I can hit the bed, the pain got weirder.  I told mama we should go back, and we did.

I sat, stood, sat again and felt a bit restless. 

              Can I sleep?

Mama started feeding me with lugaw and I willed myself to eat, spoon by spoon. By then I felt the pain growing weirder.

               Heck, ba’t parang di ko alam to?  Pangalawa na, iha.

Been awake all night and now it's daylight.  My mind panicked amid its sleepy state.

               Where do I get my energy now?
               I’m gonna be nauseous.

               Mahihimatay ako sa antok.

               Ba’t ba ko inaantok?

               Advil.  

               Epidural. Painless, painject kaya ako.

               May cord coil si Baby F sa last ultrasound.

               Ano!?  Bilis!

But I checked again and felt within that I’m all well.  Damn, no excuse.

I moved to the delivery bed, if you'd call it a bed. Bawal kasi gumalaw mahuhulog. I told them I want to just sit down. And then Nay Conching told me she’d administer the dextrose and I said ok.

Waves of pain came. Pain, painful.  I breathed in, out, moaned, asked to be massaged at the back.  My whims  at my command, something I know I wouldn't get at a hospital or anywhere else. But the pain was awful. 

             Who does this?

             Who inflicts this kind of agony?

             Downright, sheer, damn painful.

Hubby came before 9am  and I slumped my head on his shoulder, arms around him and tried to steal some sleep. 

            Lord, pwede ba saglit umidlip? 10 minutes? Power nap?

            Tama na muna wave ng pain. Pwede ba?

The husband held on to me and kept asking if I was okay.  I couldn’t answer him.  Well, I was not, but felt that I was. I know, weird.

I dreaded each wave that came.  At 9am, Nay Conching predicted that by 12nn Baby F will be out. 

            Buhay pa kaya ako nun?

I lied down before 930am and braved the waves. I thought of Baby F.  This was supposed to be his day.

It was me and the pain.  Just us. 

            Okay, c’mon.

And then, Baby F’s loud cries bellowed inside the room.  9.31am.

My husband wiped something off at the corner of my eye.

And then I held him- Baby F, my little wonder, our miracle.

hooked

Wanting to fall in love with Barcelona, someday.

photo credit here

even a fortress would crumble

It is hypocrisy to tell someone you love him and that you miss him when you know well he could no longer hear you, or even if he does, he could no longer comprehend. But even so, even in the deepest recesses of your heart you know you wanted so much to let him know somehow. And that you thank him for being part of your life, that he has passed by, helped you along the way, understood and loved, cheered you up like a father would.

I'll miss you playing this song for me on the piano, every time, since the time you knew I liked it. Especially that smile on your face.

Thank you uncle.  Love is all that matters, it is. I love you.

dash of mom

                                                 



                                                Tried a new one,

                                                          knocked it over! - palitaw 

                                                          A dash of boredom,

                                                          or because I'm a mom?

repost: shoes can be fatal

Nothing to post. I'm cleaning up my fb notes and I guess I have to save this one.  Only because I loved the thought that I cursed someone in my head and I meant it big time. Haha. :-P  ---

Sometimes I wish that we were little girls and boys who cared less about the world and the people around. Wish we can do the slightest mistake without being judged as if some other people’s existence depended on what you do and how you do what; when a tiny petty thing wouldn’t be taken against you and blown out of proportion like it already has a life of its own.  And when others thought you were an angel, some little perfect miss, you suddenly want  to scrape that halo off your head and unravel the red bony horns and flash those sharp, shiny canines and say, well, hello I'm not perfect.

Sometime ago (years ago actually), from work going home I take public utility transport, that which we call FX. 

I flagged down an FX along with many other vying passengers.  So while the car was yet to stop, people, including myself, managed to squeeze against one another to get inside the car. Maximum number of 15 people can get in.  That’s the usual practice, the car yet to halt but people boarding.  And if you want to get yourself a seat, your ass should be quick enough otherwise you can expect the moon shining on you. 

I had the window seat – I like window seats in anything moving and has windows, the car, the train, or the plane.  So I thought I was lucky.

While my head was still slightly swollen with triumph over the little bout, somebody, the one next to me adjusted herself, lifted her big bony butt and slumped on my thigh.  

Ouch!! Wood??!

It was painfuI.  I looked at her and didn’t mind because I thought , well, this is a carpool. People kinda hurt each other unintentionally especially when trying to settle themselves.  Few seconds more, I felt a hard nudge on my side arm.  Ouch! And then another one.  Her (yes, she’s a lady, woman and later I’ll call her a monster) elbow jabbed  my arm again.  That one was raw and it was hard to think of it as an accident.

 “Anu'ng problema mo?” I said. My arm and my thigh were whispering anguish.  The pain was raw.  My question was demanding and was least expecting a petty answer like “nothing.”  I wanted a rather satisfactory answer. 

She said “Nothing.”  Impish smile.

Blood started to rush up my head, with her grin in it, and I knew I turned red, with anger.  Well, my non-mestiza face had to struggle turning that color.

“Nakakasakit ka na!,” I told her, my voice so controlled.

She acted as if she did not hear anything and the nerve, nudged me again!

Okay, fu&%er! (excuse me Ma), I thought.  You want this, you’ll get it. 

I nudged her too. Hard.  And then I lifted my right foot with that very pointy heel and punched it  down on her foot, the mid bony part.  I saw the terror on her face as she looked down.  Before she could even react again, I lifted my foot with the shoe and as the blood squirted out, she shrieked in horror.

I let out a demonic laugh.

Right.  That was just my imagination.  Hope you did not fall for that.

But I did nudge her hard, several times every time she moved, and really wished I did the heel-puncturing thing. But I’m not that evil.

The ordeal with her (read: the bitch) finally ended when she alighted first.  It was only then that I realized that the other passengers were watching us.  And that THEY WERE THERE!  I was SO into the pain and the weird situation that I forgot it was all in public. 

They looked at me and one said “Hayaan mo na, baliw siguro yun..” I felt so relieved and shocked and angry and embarrassed, I cried. I hated that I did, but what just happened was so weird, I just had to let those tears out.  There was no better way to release those emotions.

I thought, evil things really are just lurking around and they pick their prey at random.  And self-defense could be hard, especially when you’re caught without warning.

THAT monster!

--

Fringes

They are Trimmings, 

frills and ruffles in 

bags, dresses, shoes too

will make you swoon 

Oh, wish you have them won.

They are Bangs

donned to crown

one's head pretty, 

frame the face

Highlight those Eyes lovely

It's the edge

the limit, the End

Push it hard,

bend, stretch, Stop 

the bliss or Plummet

down the abyss

They're extra

a benefit, a Spiff

a gift for you've been 

Good. A serving of Love

you can never have.

i have no words

formidable stance

via

Not too far a dream looming

I've spoken, toiled, now spent

But never lost faith.

Wrapped in silken voice

A gift shipped on its way

With open arms I wait.

I stand,and I stand still

Unwavering, although quivering

Shall not falter, never will.

embracing the new year

Can you believe it? It's new year, I'm back, and I'm exactly the same old me with my favorite topic in this blog - myself.

I've literally jump-started the year with few snap shots by our lovely lake. The scene to me is always grand. Never fails me.

No one is jumping off.

So have you made your new year's resolutions? I did.

1. Forget that I ever have feast days and never do it again. Yes, self-proclaim one. Not that it's blasphemous, it's just ridiculous.
2. Be a little less intuitive.  Instincts are a boon but when they begin to cause pain they're a bane.
3. Stop being a frantic mom. It is not cool. I'd really try hard to pull this through up.
4. Try something new every day. Like snorkel or sky dive - in my dreams.
5. Travel more. Go to the supermarket, the malls, mister baby's tutorials.
6. Initiate small talk with people, try new routes, new food/street food.
7. Limit the squeamish; avoid judging food by its looks.
8. Take on challenges. Haggle harder at tiangges. 
9. Troubleshoot. And smartly manage the task by delegating it to the hubby.  Will save me a lot of temper.
10. Stop making excuses. Accept the fact that the local news would constantly feature lowly life forms called politicians.
11. Keep a diary. Just keep it.
12. Give more.
13. Worry less.
14. Keep the faith.
15. Stick with all of the above that make sense.

Well, happy new year!

I know it's picturesque. Thank you.

santa can you hear me?

As I write now, I am uploading the video of mister baby's (well, he's no longer a baby but let's stick to the alias ) christmas presentation in school yesterday. Hubby who prefers to take photos always complained that my videos are shaky. Can you blame me? I giggle when I take them, and I sing along and mouth the words to my son, even if I knew he knows the lyrics. He knows the lyrics because when I fetch him at school I sneak and eavesdrop (they practice secretly apparently to surprise the parents. Well, so much for surprises..) that way I learn of the songs and I practice him at home.

So yesterday was my feast day.

Self-proclaimed.

The feast day of the mom whose face was stuck in mirth the whole day.

Also the feast day of the mommy who giggles and sings along and fixes his son's hair in between numbers during presentations, not to mention places him in front as unnoticeably as possible so that the camera would get a better shot of him. That last one is overdoing it I know. That's why I don't look back lest I'd see the WTF looks from other parents. But, bite me. Hey, I have an excuse - I'm going to show the video to the grannies. But everyone has that in mind, dimwit. Again, bite me.

The feast day of the frantic mom whose only anxiety-driving event that could drive her crazy faster than the speed of light is when this only son is ailing. And so on and so forth.

And last but definitely one which could win me an award - the feast day of the impatient mom.

Here's how impatient I can get.

I got so excited again I had to watch the video while uploading (as if I did not take it and as if i did not watch it twice today) that YouTube had something to say.

Bite me.

brilliant

I can see moms at 0.28 express their nods of acquiescence..

women, all through, empowered.

men, most of 'em, recalcitrant.

(It is the ad I love, not the product.  That is as I speak now. We never know.)

strings attached

For a while there, I had an illusion that I was poetic. I'm dropping it now.  But the so-called poems may be back when I get to that interval again.  Forgive me in advance then.

Tonight, this one came through my dearest friend, Mistichtys. She happened to read my blog which I shamelessly advertised to a few precious friends, including her.

At one time I posted something about the movie Love in the Time of Cholera and talked about the book, Javier Bardem and Serendipity too.  I have saved a copy of Serendipity and saw the flick again after that.  Now I have the book to read.  I think I'm now in some string of Love-in-the-Time events which shall henceforth go forward from here. Like next time it would be Javier Bardem showing himself to me in person!

In the meantime, I typed in "Javier Bardem 2013" in Google.

And I got this.

via

Not so bad. Not so bad..

Oh. But this is Channing Tatum.
I know.  But his photo came up in the search.
Can't blame me.

a thief in the daylight

The flying speed woke me up

I was home

There was no crisp air to breath

Just that familiar stench

Abhorrent yet to me

Like his masterpiece to a chef.

I alighted the vehicle

Paranoia strikes in

Brain working, heavily

Adversarial, warily

But this is me

Like a thief in the daylight.

I took a cab

The dawn of day

My back straight

But not against the seat

But it fit

Like a woman to her shoe.

I slept

Cuddling the oddity

Made love to the dream

That had long time consumed me

Like a paramour to her lover.

written in Nov. 10, 2010

photo taken on Oct. 2013

S.J. City, M.M. Phl.

dear april

Why are you so perfect?
Are you even capable of failing me?
You beguile me.
You amaze me.
You bring me to my feet,
And then you carry me.
How do i react?
You are exquisite
You deny me of how a
Response be exact.
Will loving you back be ever enough?

hope

A rainbow after the storm.
No matter how hard things can get, they shall pass.

Posted via Blogaway

burj means tower

I have just spoken to my brother over at Skype.  Said he's going to Burj Khalifa.  In Dubai.  And I was reminded how I used to gape at that structure, soon to rise, raw, proud even though unfinished.  I once went right at the site with all the men working amid the sun and humidity of the Dubai desert.  And I thought, wow, I was gonna be part of history. The world's tallest tower in the making.  

The completion of the tower happened but me being part of it, did not.  When it was opened to the world on January 4, 2010, I was among the many who had to see it only on TV.  That was it. On TV. 

You know, I haven't been to so many parts of the world.  I was lucky enough to have been gone to at least two foreign countries. So when I was there I always made sure that I would have beautiful and unforgettable stories and memories with me when I go back home.

I had my fill of fun in Dubai.  I have met beautiful people, beautiful inside and out. I have taken peeks of the marian faces but their hair and body are concealed in black niqábs and abayas. I have seen and worked with people who I thought were geniuses.  Totally new, refreshing and enlightening experiences.  There were many times that I was humbled by the nature of the jobs that others were willing to take, toiling beyond the heat and sandstorms.  And even with all those sights and encounter, I knew I hardly experienced a bit portion of the world and there's no bit reason too to be loud about it. It just made me long for more.

I  have worked in a realty company.  There were a mixture of different nationalities, men and women with beautiful names.  Some them were my first time to hear such as Shakil, Ayisha, Prakash, Jomon, and so on that as I speak their names now, I'm reminded of how awesome these people were, each having their unique cultural peculiarities just like how I was to them.  They themselves were a lot of learning to me.

Like this one cab driver I have met on my way to a job interview. Traffic was bad. The driver took another route, a free lane, taking extra miles. I thought I was just fine until I glanced at the meter.  I suddenly felt sweat on my temples. The meter was going as fast as the cab was running. I don't have enough for the bill.  

I had to tell the driver "My friend, are we still far from the place?  I can only take up to 25 (in dirhams).You can drop me off to the nearest bus stop.." He had beard and mustache all over his face. I started worrying about the searing heat outside, my getup being ruined, being late and most importantly, being lost (I had not the faintest idea where he was taking me).  I felt my tears inside in upheaval. The man just looked at me, and then he turned the meter off and we kept going. I fought the panic starting to win over me. Cool it! I yelled inside.

Five minutes later I was in front of an office. I looked at him, he gave me a reassuring look and smiled. 

When I alighted the cab my heart was heavy with thanks.

I got the job the same day and felt so grateful.

The same job brought me to Burj Khalifa, earlier called Burj Dubai, unfinished, unyielding but mightily beautiful.