To our dear family and friends...

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Love to all from Roo and family

My Little Missionary

Since the day he uttered his first word, Roo has been trying to communicate with the lady who comes to clean our house everyday. She speaks purely Thai, and Roo speaks only English. When they try to talk to each other, each would say a word in her/his own language. The thing is, both of them are so intent on teaching the other his language that neither of them listen to each other. The khun pa we call her, for instance would point to the ball, and tell Roo, "bon." Roo in return would tell her "ball" and insist that it's a ball, not a bon.

Ball.

Bon.

Ball.

Bon.

That's what you'll hear for a few minutes. Eventually one of them gives up and goes back to his/her own thing. The next day when they meet, the same thing happens. Many times, it's another word. Most of the time, it's the same word.

We've been telling Roo to listen really carefully when the khun pa talks so he can learn Thai. Ever since he found out that the khun pa does not know Jesus, he has been itching to tell her. He tried several times, but in English, so the khun pa couldn't understand a word he's saying. He even watches Thomas the train in Thai at times, just so he can learn to speak Thai.

Today, he found a way. The Holy Spirit is evidently at work in Roo's heart. While I was surfing the net, I noticed that Roo was standing in the narrow space between his lolo's bed and the locker, so I told him he'd have to move out of the way because the khun pa would have to pass that way from the porch. He said, no mommy, I have to show her Jesus. On the bed was my old yearbook, and he had turned it to the page where Jesus picture was. So when the old lady came in from the porch with her mop, Roo cornered her and pointed to the picture of Jesus. The old lady acknowledged, and said, "Phra Yesu."

Apparently, she knows something about Jesus. I struck a conversation with her about it, and learned that she has read tracts and books and knows that Jesus was here on earth before and that he was crucified. She told us she liked reading about him. So Roo and I gave her a book to read. My little missionary wore a huge smile on his face as the khun pa said "khop khun khap!" (thank you!)

Bye to Nappies?

Guess what? I have great news!

Yesterday, I was loading the wash when Roo came to the door with shoulders all scrunched up, saying, "Mommy! I need to go to the toilet!"

I dropped everything and rushed him to the bathroom. As I hurriedly put his toilet seat in place and removed his diaper, I noticed that his shoulders were still up. Apparently, that was his way of holding it. And he made it!!!

Hahaha! Only mothers I guess will understand the joy of seeing a little child successful in his toilet training. Actually with Roo, my attempts at toilet training were all futile. He has always refused to go to the toilet, and the few times he did go, nothing came out. So I've kind of given up and decided to take my friend's advice to just let him be, that he'll go when he's developmentally ready. And he did! In his own time. His own good time.

On Massages

One Sunday morning, I decided I needed some respite and escaped from my boys. I caught a cab and gave the driver directions to go to Sunday market. Having nothing really in mind to shop for, I wandered aimlessly around the market when I got there. Found a couple of blouses for my sis and bought them.

Not long afterwards, I passed by some people offering massages. They had this cozy little corner at the clothes section, and aromatherapy scents filled the air. Their comfortable-looking massage chairs looked very inviting, and my tired and aching feet just couldn't resist the invitation. So a foot massage I got. For the first time. And hooked to massages I became.

That was just about three months ago. I can't believe I've been missing it all these years I've been here in Thailand. Where massage parlors are as bountiful as seven-elevens. But that's history now. Now I know that foot massages are relaxing and blissful, and not painful like I believed it was, they have found its way into my monthly budget. It's perfect especially when I'm experiencing that monthly cramping and aching.

There was this black pastor who came to visit our church with a group of other blacks from England a few weeks back. He shared how happy they were to have visited Thailand. And that for many of them, it was their first time to have a massage.

"You guys live in paradise!" he exclaimed.

Yup, massages can be synonymous to paradise. You know, you're all stressed and worked up over so many issues in your life, then you enter this sweet-smelling room, aptly decorated to make you relax just with the sight of it, with soft music in the air, and you can't help but feel that you've entered wonderland. You drop into the luxuriously soft leather-upholstered chair and you instantaneously unwind. The masseuse then gently washes your feet with warm water, dry them with soft towels, and props your feet up in a perfectly relaxing position. If you're anything but like me, you'd fall asleep right there and then.

And you'll wake up refreshed and completely relaxed. And so looking forward to your next massage.

In The Mind of a Three-Year-Old

I have seen my baby evolve from a helpless tot who could not do anything for himself, to a now striving- to-be-independent toddler who wants to do everything himself. I continue to be amazed at how this wonderful little being that I live with, and spend time with, 24/7, has grown and developed. Everytime he opens his mouth to talk or ask something, I stand enthralled at the words that give me but a glimpse of what goes on in his mind. At times when he is quiet, I can almost hear the wheels of his brain gear turning as he processes information we give him, or stuff that puzzle his young mind. His daddy and I often wonder, what does he think about? What and how do three-year-old kids think, do you know?

I don't mind his questions. In fact, I enjoy them. I welcome them. His whys and how comes are getting more and more complex, but I love the challenge. Makes me think hard too for he will not rest till my answers satisfy his curious mind.

What perplexes us are the little stuff that he gets so worked up about sometimes. Petty to us, maybe, but the way he reacts about them tells us that they mean a great deal to him.

Haircuts, for example, are a big no-no! He will NEVER say yes to a haircut. Months or weeks before he needs one, we start prepping him. "Roo, you need a hair cut. Your hair is getting a lil too long, don't you think?"

No! I don't want a hair cut.

"You will look nicer with a haircut. You won't have hair sticking in your eyes, making your eyes itchy."

No! I don't want to look nice. I want my eyes to be itchy.

No amount of coaxing worked. We even resorted to bribes, like he can watch all the videos he wanted while getting a haircut, or he can ask for a treat afterwards, but all these fell on deaf ears. He made himself clear, he does not want a haircut.

I had to put a clip on his hair to keep them away from his eyes. Until his dad changed words. Yup, words. "Roo, would you like it if I make your hair shorter?"

"Okay, daddy!"

Just like that. No fuss. No further questions.

We're still trying to make sense of it, but I guess it has something to do with what books say about how toddlers feel like when their hair, or nails, are cut, they think they lose them. They still have to grasp the idea that hair and nails grow; that when you cut them, you don't really lose that part of yourself, they will grow back.

The thing is, my Roo does not only fret about losing his hair, he also panics when he sees my hair, or his dad's for that matter, go down the drain in the bath. He can be blissfully happy playing with his bath toys one minute, and the next second he's weeping over hair that's washed down the drain. And there's no way to comfort him, you'd think he'd lost his bestfriend!

When we went exploring at a cove about a month ago, he saw some mangrove leaves riding the waves. He frantically grabbed them and with tears in his eyes, launched the Operation: Save the Leaves! I heard panic in his voice when he solicited my help, convincing me that the leaves needed to be rescued from the waves. Mommy, the waves are bringing the leaves away, quick, help me! No matter how much we explained to him that the leaves won't get hurt in any way, he stuck to his mission with great determination and fished out all the leaves that he thought needed rescuing, and brought them safely to shore.

Then just this noon, right before his afternoon nap, I gave him a bath. He busied himself pouring water into containers while I shampooed his hair and soaped his whole body up. When I turned the shower head on him, rinsing his hair, he suddenly started toe-tapping, and agitatedly waved his hands up and down.

Mommy, no! No, mommy!

"What is it, Roo?" "What's bothering you?" I asked. Knowing full well that he didn't like the water running over his head, I continued at it trying to get it done and over with. Fast.

He looked up at me, water dripping all over his face, and with exasperation in his voice, blurted out in a loud voice (as slowly as he could so maybe I could understand), DO YOU THINK I'M A PLANT? WHY ARE YOU WATERING ME?!"

I'm Your Mommy, K?!

What do you do when you miss someone?  Write them? Send an IM? Call?  I'd do anything just to have one more moment with my mom.  I miss her voice.  Miss her laugh.  Miss everything about her!

Mommy, are you sad?  

Yes, my son.  I miss lola so much.

Mommy, I know!  Pretend that I'm your mommy, okay?  Give me a hug, mommy!  Pretend that I'm lola!

*Hugs*

Mommy, are you still sad?  Think of heaven okay?  Jesus will bring us to heaven soon, and we won't be sad anymore!

My Roo! My sweet, sweet Roo! More *hugs*

Guilty!

We had just passed one Officer who asked us point blank what kind of food we had in our bags.  Wracking my brain for a mental picture of what I packed into the bag three weeks before, I rattled off a list from the top of my head.  Dry instant noodles, ready-to-eat instant soup, biscuits, crackers, chips, sweet treats.  The Officer wrote them all, one by one on my declaration form. And I thought that was that. 

It was not so. At the end of our queue, another Customs Officer was opening bags and looking through them thoroughly. I suddenly had this sinking feeling that I was in trouble! My heart started beating fast. My mind raced. What if I missed something?  What will they do to us if we brought something we did not declare?  Crossing my fingers and hoping for the best, I breathed a prayer up.  My memory can NOT fail me.  NOT now.  Pleeeaase.

The Officer rummaged through the bag carrying our food and pulled out a bar of cheese.  Oh my Eden cheese! I should have listened to MY man.  It wouldn't have taken that much trouble to open the bag and check if we forgot something.  But I didn't want to do it.  Hardheaded me.  Now what?!  

The Officer looked through the list on his hand, looked us in the eye, and asked, “WHAT is this?”  Why is this cheese not in the list?”

"Officer, I'm sorry.  I forgot that I packed cheese into the bag."  

Sounded so lame I regretted saying it.  But what else can I say?  That I had so many things in my mind all this time, got caught up with all the wedding preparations, and the wedding itself, that I forgot I had packed a small bar of cheese in one of the bags?  

Guilty.  That's what I was.  I had no excuse.  They gave me plenty of time to think.  The Customs form was given to me in the plane a good hour before landing.  Sure, it did not specifically spell out c-h-e-e-s-e, but it did say “dairy” products.  What’s more, from the moment we stepped into Christchurch airport, there were posters everywhere showing what kind of stuff they wanted us to declare.  Why none of those pictures rang a bell and reminded me of the cheese, I have no clue.  

What?!  You say?  Bring cheese to cheese country?  Like bringing chilli into Thailand?  I know it sounds absurd. But you see, MY man and I were on our honeymoon, and we were supposed to drive out to the countryside, away from civilization, and we wanted to make sure the food situation would be taken care of.  I had tossed that cheese in without much thought and I had completely forgotten all about it!  It was one of those stuff from home that my parents brought over when they came for the wedding, and I missed eating that particular brand of cheese.  Never imagined it would bring us THIS much trouble. Nice way to start our honeymoon eh?

A grim-looking Officer walked us to his office, sat us down, and very patiently explained why it was important for us to obey their laws.    This is the first time I'm apprehended for breaking the law.  I felt like a criminal.  If only my chair could swallow me up.  I apologized to the Officer, admitted our wrongdoing, and asked if it was possible for him to excuse the offense.  Sir, can you like just throw the cheese away and we promise we will not do this again?  

Yeah right.  Commit an offense and not take the punishment?  Well, I had to ask!  Hoping for grace, I appealed to the Officer to 'forgive' our mistake.  But he was no God and a fine is a fine. We have broken the law and we have to bear the punishment. All he could assure us was that it would not appear in our records.  

With a heavy heart, I counted out two hundred NZ dollars.  The price of a twenty-peso cheese sneaked into their country.  A lesson on responsibility and accountability slammed down my throat to swallow. Quite an expensive lesson to learn but you bet it was well-learned!

Next time I go to cheese country, I bring no cheese ;D

 

Many Happy Returns (to me ;D)

When I was small, on my birthdays, I remember waking up to a bunch of lansones, among other presents, at the foot of my bed.  I remember jumping up and squealing with delight at the sight of my favorite fruit which I can eat to my heart's content only on my birth month.  My heart was content and happy, sharing that precious moment with my family who would gather around, share my lansones, and sing happy birthday to me.

No more of that.  No more lansones waiting for me to wake up.  No more mommy to celebrate my birthday with me.  My heart is heavy and extremely sad just spilling that thought out.

At the same time, my heart sings with joy just being able to wake up!  Not to a bunch of lansones (although I do miss the part of being with my family).  But to a shower of kisses from a smiling little Roo.  With his final smack, he declared in his sweetest voice, "I love you, Mommy!"  Then he hugged me tight and whispered, "You are special to me, Mommy!" (after a sec, he continued to explain in case I didn't get it, That's another way of saying, "I like you, mommy.")

Happy.  I am happy.  Happy birthday to me!

Flowers greeted me when I came out of the bedroom to start my day.   Surprise, surprise!  MY man gave me his birthday gift last night so I didn't expect anything else from him.  He must have gotten up really early to get them, and still be on time for work.   Thank God for MY wonderful man!  He sure made my morning as bright and as happy as old times.  

Now, I have to go and sing happy birthday with my boy.  He insists that I sing with him so I can "blow the flowers."  Haha!

p.s.  I wanted to post pictures of the flowers but I can't find the cable to download them.  Will do that later.

A Perfectly, Relaxing Sabbath

"The mountains! Roo, look! We can see the mountains now!" I excitedly exclaimed as we drove in the direction of the green and lush mountains ahead of us.

"Where, mommy, where?" Roo caught my excitement and craned his neck, leaning towards me as far as his seat belt would allow. He had been just as excited at the beginning of our drive, singing loudly along with Veggie Tales, raising his legs alternately to the beat of the music. But as time passed and no sign of our destination appeared, he had mellowed down, settled in his car seat, and quietly gazed at the passing scenery.  

MY man has been driving for more than an hour. My heart rejoiced when I caught sight of the mountains! My landmark. These mountains tell me that we have reached the countryside! The city is far behind us now.  

Ahhh. What that thought can do to my countryside-hungry soul. My mind cleared in an instant. Worries and cares slipped away. Happy endorphins filled my whole being. Now I can relax. Now I can enjoy the Sabbath in peace.

Seeing and being amidst nature on Sabbath day. Perfect! God’s beautiful creation has its way of making me forget the normal routines of everyday life. It is refreshing to be far from the hustles and bustles of city life. Nature allows me time to think. Time to listen closely to the still small voice of God.

About midmorning, we arrived at our favorite hang-out. The hotel we usually stayed at is just about a couple hundred meters away, but we usually played at this beach either in the early mornings, or late evenings.  This is the first time we're there in the middle of the day.  The sun was shining bright above us.  We grabbed our umbrella, adorned our little Roo in his long sleeved shirt, hat, and sunglasses, and headed towards the chairs.

At almost every beach in Thailand, you will find these reclining chairs, set under huge and shady umbrellas.  Depending on which beach you go to, the rent ranges from Bht.20 - 40 ($0.60 - 1.30). And if you get hungry, food is not a problem.  The people renting the the chairs out usually hand you a menu the moment you sit down. You can choose to order food from them, or you can bring your own food and just rent the chairs.

Roo was soon engrossed in his own imaginary world with his beach toys. He lost no time in scooping sand into his bucket and molds, looking up every now and then to show us what he was making. MY man took out his camera and started clicking away. I silently praised God for this wonderful opportunity of spending quiet time with Him and my family at my most favorite place in the world: the beach.

When I finally settled in my chair to soak in the view, I couldn’t help but breathe out a “Wow!” The sight of the ocean never fails to take my breath away and today was no exception. The ocean waters sparkled blue and green in the bright sunshine. White, fluffy clouds dotted the clear blue sky that stretched above the waters for miles and miles like there was no end to it. Every now and then, a white seagull would swoop into the waters then soar back into the sky oh so gracefully! The sound of the waves lapping on the shore soon loosened up all my tense muscles, making me drowsy and sleepy!

Vendors walked by every few minutes.  You would not believe the things they peddle on the beach!  Sure, there was the usual fried seafood packed full in styrofoam plates. Some vendors sold fruits and nuts.  A masseuse with her son tagging along sauntered by  and offered her services to the tourists.  A man approached us with a folder full of tattoo designs and asked if we wanted one.  If you forgot your sunglasses, you need not run back to your car, or your hotel for that matter, for they were selling those too!  In case you did not bring your watch, and would want one right now, you bet they had those for sale too!  And would you care to buy paintings of beautiful sceneries for your living room at home?

The beach was practically deserted although we were not alone. There’s this group of friends chatting and eating together right behind us. A couple of umbrellas to the right behind were a dad and a son preparing to go for a dip in the waters. At the far end, there were a few tourists either relaxing in their chairs or sunning themselves on the sand. A couple was enjoying themselves swimming in the ocean. Other than that, the place was surprisingly (and wonderfully!) peaceful and serene.

We talked to the lady renting out the chairs and asked her if it was always this quiet here. She shook her head vigorously and said that business is bad for them now. She related that usually at this time of the year, tourists flock the place. But because of the political unrest, tourists have chosen not to come and now their business is down.  Bad for them, but good for us.  One man's loss can truly be another man's gain.

How I wished the day would not end.  But like the narrator in Roo's favorite video says, "All stories must come to an end."  Here's the perfect ending to our perfect Sabbath day at Pattaya!

More beach pictures on MY man's tabblo.

Smile. The Thai Way.

Thailand is not called the Land of Smiles for nothing.  Anywhere you go in Thailand, you interact with the Thai people and you yourself will make that same conclusion:  Thailand IS the Land of Smiles.

Like everybody else, Thai people smile when they're happy and pleased.  But unlike everybody else, Thais also smile when they're anything but happy.  Smiles don their faces when they're sad. Even they're upset or boiling mad, smiles will still flash from their face. They smile when they're frustrated.  They smile when they are embarrassed.  And they smile when they don't have a single clue as to what you are talking about.

Part of My man's work in the hospital involves dealing with the problems that international patients bring up before, during, or after their treatment/experience in the hospital.  Many a time My man would come home and tell me how this patient came storming into their office, screaming at the top of his lungs that the hospital staff did not, or does not, understand him. Of course the patient knows he is in Thailand and tried to explain what he wanted to say in English very s-l-o-w-l-y.  Of course he repeated it when the staff did not understand him the first time. The second time.  The more the patient tried to get himself understood, the angrier he got. Why???

I am bl**dy @#$% ANGRRRY!  WHYYYY is he SMILING!!!

Welcome to the Land of Smiles.  Where a smile can mean I like you.  Or I'm going to kill you!  

Foreigners have to understand that when Thai people smile, it does not necessarily mean they are happy.  In the case of these hospital staff smiling at irate patients, they are just at a loss of what to say, or what to do.  They either did not understand a single thing the patient was trying to say, or they don't know how to make themselves understood.  Many times they experience mental block.  They do not know how to communicate and express themselves in English.  Their second language, a language they so desperately try to learn.  And so they just smile.  Not to insult or offend the patient, but because they have "run out" of words in English, and they just are beside themselves, not knowing how else to resolve the problem before them.

Having been here in Thailand for more than a decade now, I understand the Thai people and their inability to express themselves in English.  But still many times, when I'm on the other side of the table, and frustratingly getting myself misunderstood, their smile still get into my nerves. I don't even have to see the smile.  On the phone, it comes across as "Yes, sir. Yes Sir!" (this I don't mind--I have long accepted that sometimes I am a Sir to Thai people).  Or "Ah, excuse me Sir..."

"Good morning. I'm calling to check on my credit card payment.  I paid the bill yesterday."

Ah, excuse me Sir...did you pay already?

"Yes, I paid online yesterday.  Will there be charges for my late payment?"

Ah, excuse me Sir...today you pay at the bank?

"No, I did not pay at the bank.  I paid---"

Ah, excuse me Sir.  The bank forward your payment to us tomorrow. Your payment come in tomorrow.

"Yes, I understand.  Do I have to---"

Ah, excuse me, excuse me.  Tomorrow I call you. Okay?

Sigh.

What do you do?  Smile?  The Thai way?  

If you can, smile.  If you can't, do what I did.  Wait. Till you can.

Smile! :D

Only You!

I knew it was coming.  I had seen a special twinkle in his eyes every time he gazes into mine.  His hugs have been getting tighter, and his kisses had been so much sweeter.  Never a day goes by without him letting me know that he wants me.  No doubt he was obviously head over heels in love with me.  

The other night, he wouldn't let anyone else come near me.  I couldn't touch anyone else except him either.  He made sure he had me safe on his side.  He was insistent in his demands, "I love only you! You love only me too, okay?"

That was enough to tell me something was boiling.  I had this feeling that something was going to pop up soon.  But I didn't expect it to come this soon.  

Just before bedtime last night, i can't even remember what exactly I was doing, he suddenly grabbed me, put his arms around my neck, and made his declaration.  Facing the mirror right over our headboard, smiling at our reflection, he embraced me and said:  "I want to marry you.  I like you!"

Then as if afraid that he hasn't made himself clear enough, he looked at his dad, tightened his arms around me, and reiterated what he said, "Daddy, I want to marry mommy!"

At first his daddy didn't know what to say.  When he recovered, he burst out laughing, and asked, "Really?!  Why do you want to marry mommy?

Matter-of-factly, our little Roo replied, "Because I like mommy so much, daddy!  I love mommy right up to the moon, and back, and back, and back, and back!"

My second proposal.  Never imagined another being could love me as much as My man does--enough to propose marriage.  My little one has understood the concept of marriage:  when you love and like someone very much, you want to marry her and be with her.  

Forever.

My man and my dear Roo, you guys have my whole heart! I love you both right up to the moon and back, and back, and back and back!

Visa Blues 2

One thing about not being in your own country, even if you're old and sick, you still have to come to the Immigration.  I mused out loud to My man, as we stood outside the Immigration Building, at seven-thirty yesterday morning. Ahead of us on the queue, was an elderly couple. The man, perhaps in his late seventies, was on a wheelchair, and his wife, about his age, pushed him towards the chairs.  Good thing they were allowed entry into the building, to sit down and wait there, while the rest of us, lined up outside the door. 

Like I said last year (see this post), you never know what to expect when you arrive at the Immigration. Last year, I got to be the third person on a line in front of the counter where they give out queue numbers, but that was inside the building.  This time, we had to queue outside the door, and wait for them to open it, which they did a few minutes after the flag-raising at eight am.  As soon as they opened the doors, everybody scrambled in to line up again at the counter, to get our queue numbers.  My number:  909.  10 persons waiting ahead of me.

The waiting gave me and My man some time to talk.  It's very seldom that we get to talk uninterrupted by a little Roo.  My man planned his strategies for next year's visa renewal:  Since he wakes up early, he'd go ahead and make sure he's first on the line, get a number, then I can just come later (they open the offices at 8:30 am and start calling numbers around nine am anyways.)  We discussed several business opportunities that could be  feasible around and inside the Immigration.  Breakfast is one.  We surmised most people who were there early, like us, didn't have time to eat.  Photocopy and photograph services is another. There's always one more document that you forget to photocopy, and your old ID picture may not pass their scrutiny.  Or maybe A Queue Number to Your Liking business!  We'll hire someone to be there early, get as many numbers as possible for all kinds of visa needs, and provide them to people at a fee!  That would work for people like me who'd pay for a few more winks of sleep :D Another thing that would definitely reap profits is a parking lot.  Parking at the Immigration is next to impossible when you get there late.  You'll just have to drive around and around the parking lot until you get lucky and somebody drives out.

Sigh. Why is it that when you're waiting, time ticks by ever so slowly?  My man had already run out of things to talk about, and got himself busy with his phone game.  I craned my neck to check on the officers--they were all seated at their desks, behind their brand-new computers, all looking busy.  The woman on my right was leafing through her documents, over and over, every now and then checking on the electronic device in front of us, to see if it's working.  Right next to her, was a dark-haired boy, about two years old, whining for one more treat from his mom.  There was a black guy in front of us sitting and talking quietly with a Thai lady.  Beside them, sat a family of Caucasians.  The mom was constantly playing referee between her little boy and his sister, who were amusing themselves by taking turns tickling each other's neck.

Number nine hundred.  Counter number 20.  The electronic device finally found its voice!  It was now nine am.  The lady beside me, obviously an agent processing visas for other people, had left her seat a while back and gone ahead to talk to the officers without being called.  A tall, white man in his flip-flops came and sat down.  I glanced at his passport.  Deutsche.  His number: 958.

Photographs, check.  Photocopies: Marriage contract, passport, birth certificate, Thai ID, house registration, check.  Map!  See, I told you.  I can never get all these documents right.

Nine hundred nine.  Counter number 21.  My man and I greeted the officer with a wai, and handed her our documents.  She gave My man an A4 paper and asked him to draw a map indicating where we live.  She checked the family pictures we submitted and compared them with her file of last year's pictures.  Hmm, they can monitor my little Roo's growth here. Sign here, sign there.  You pay 1900 baht khah. Stamp, stamp. She gave me back my passport and on it: 16 September 2008.  I am to go back next month for the results.

Whew! My man and I chuckled in relief as we drove away and this black Honda Accord behind us swiftly drove into the precious parking spot. 

Roo Turns Three

For his birthday, I suggested that instead of having a birthday party with friends, we can have a simple family dinner and use the party money to share food and stuff with orphans.  Roo readily agreed.  But there's one thing he's been asking for quite a while now:  Mommy, can I have a violin when I'm three?

Daddy E and I happily bought him one.  From the time we bought the instrument, if at all possible, he doesn't want to part with his violin.  Even brought it with him on the bed for his afternoon nap.  His daddy taught him how to hold and use the bow, and he has since been diligently practicing.  

Happy Birthday our dear Roo!

Mom of a Kind

She would have been 61 today.  If things went as planned, we would have been at the beach in Boracay, celebrating her birthday with the family.  She had been asking for a family reunion, and we were working on the details of having one in December, when my brother would be home for his vacation.  She had been excitedly saving for a trip to Europe in April next year.  Yup, had she a choice, mommy would still have fought and negotiated for a few more years to live her dreams and make sure her family is secure in the Lord.

Well, sixty years, eleven months, and thirteen days were all she was granted.  Oh but them 60 yrs, 11 mos, and 13 days were lived to the fullest to the very last second of her life!  Mommy was a very conscientious daughter to her parents, a true (word not mine, but her brother's) sister to her siblings, a faithful and devoted wife to our dad, a protective and loving mother to us, her children, and a doting grandmother to Roo, her bugoy grandson.

My mom became my best friend, my confidante sometime in my college days. I remember making it a point to go home as often as I could on weekends so I can spend time with my parents.  I guess in a way, that was to make up for all the lost time in high school, when just like any other teenager, I didn't want to hang out, or be seen with my folks.  When I came to Thailand to work after I graduated, my mom painstakingly wrote me long handwritten letters, updating me of news from home and encouraging me in my endeavors. I in turn snail-mailed her pages and pages of my adventures and experiences in the Land of Smiles. In between letters, I called home and the telephone company gained thousands of baht from my homesickness and long talks with my mother.

Mommy was always there for us, our refuge and stronghold in times of trouble.  She was not the affectionate, expressive of mother but we never doubted her strong love for us.  When she became a lola (grandmother) however, a major transformation in my mom unfolded before my eyes.  Her apo (grandson) showered her with hugs and kisses, and in time, my mom loosened up and became comfortable returning the hugs and kisses.  When Roo started talking and said "I love you lola" to her, she answered him with her own sweet "I love you too" without any of the old awkwardness and uneasiness.  She adored her little bugoy and according to my brother who lived with them, talked nonstop about Roo's doings and antics, to them and to anybody who will listen.  She was proud of her apo and I'm thankful that in her last few years, she tasted the sweetness and knew the joys of being a lola.

The Story

Mommy, can you please tell me a story?  I want to know the story when lola died.  Are you sad, mommy?  Don't cry, I'm here for you, mommy!

It was early Sabbath evening.  After spending the whole Sabbath afternoon in Bible study with some people, mommy told my dad she was hungry.  Since they didn't have food ready to eat at home, my dad suggested that they go to the mall and eat pizza.  Off to Greenwich they went and ordered mommy's favorite garden fresh pizza.   Daddy said she had just finished one slice of pizza when she nodded off and lost consciousness.  

Mommy, why did lola die when she ate pizza?  Did lolo carry her to the car? Mommy, why didn't you let me see lola? I just wanted to see if she was okay.  Where did lola die, mommy? Where did they put lola when she died?

Dad rushed her to the hospital but she never regained consciousness.  Just like that.  It's like her life button switch was turned off.  And I guess we'll never really know what happened because all she was able to have was one CT scan.  Doctors said it could have been atrial fibrillation--which meant her heartbeat was irregular.  Blood could have pooled and clotted in her heart, and these clots could have left the heart and become lodged in the MCA of her brain.  Later after exams they said her heart was clean.  Whatever it was, it took away our mom from us.

Right now, I'm kind of in a state of denial.  I want to think mommy is just there in Roxas, at home with daddy.  I want to think that.  I want to believe that.  I cannot believe she is gone.  

But reality, harsh as it is, slams me down in the face when I see the heirloom watch in my watch case. Her favorite bag is on my shelf.  That is exactly why I didn't want to bring any of her things with me.  They make me realize that this is not just a bad dream.  Mommy is not here anymore!  

My heart is so, so sad.  So many questions, so many whys whirling in my troubled mind. I know it's selfish of me to want her back.  She is now at peace.  She is resting from all the worries and cares of this life.  She is safe in the arms of Jesus.  

I know tears will keep flowing.  My heart is mourning.  I praise God for times like these!  It's in times like these that I realize that this earth is not my home.  My heart may be heavy, but in the Lord I choose to rejoice!  For this temporal life will not last long. There's hope of a better, tear-free life in Jesus in the near future.  That grand reunion with mommy, and other dear family and friends, is fast approaching.

"Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning."  Psalm 30:5

Weep if you must...

Deep, Deep Sorrow

It's been a week.  My mom has been gone for a week.  I feel so sad inside, I don't have words for it.  My close friend describes it as sorrow beyond words.  How I miss her.  I miss talking to her. I miss telling her what Roo has been up to; what Roo said, what Roo did.  She would have been so happy that we are all here.  I miss mommy.  Terribly.  

Yet I can't cry.  Tears come trickling every now and then, but I still yearn to have a good, long cry.  I've been distracting myself and trying not to think about it, because I don't want my dad to see me cry.  Or he'd start weeping too.  I don't want my son to see me sad.  That will get him so stressed out again.  

I cry inside.  Deep, deep within me, there's great sorrow for losing someone so dear.  It's like losing my lifeline, so to speak.  Mommy holds a very special place in my heart, in my life, and now that she's gone, it's like there's this big, empty space inside me, that's longing to be filled.  I walk around in a daze, not knowing how to get on with life. I wish this was all a bad dream that I can wake up out of.  

Life.  It's short.  It's fragile.  It is indeed just a gift.  When the breath of life is taken away, you're nothing.  You get buried six feet below the ground, and you don't know a thing.  You don't know how lost your spouse feels without you.  You don't know how much your children yearn to hear your voice one more time.  You don't know how loud your grandson calls for you.  

If only I can do something to bring my mom back.  If only I can turn back time, I'd insist on her seeing a doctor for a complete checkup.  I'd do everything to convince her to come and stay with us in Bangkok where the hospitals have enough facilities to save lives.  I'd tell her over and over again how much she means to me, and how much I love her!  If only...

God, You have given, and You have taken.  Thank you for the gift of having mommy in my life for 32 years!  I look forward to being with her in the resurrection morning.  Lord, I can hardly wait to see her again!  Come quickly, Lord Jesus, come!

Roo's Way of Coping

Tuesday 15 July 2008

At the hospital, outside the ICU...

Roo:  Mommy, I want to see lola please!

Mommy:  Roo, I'm sorry but you can't.  Lola is very sick.  

Roo (shouting, in a tantrum):  I want to see lola!  I want to sing for lola!

................................................................................................................................................

Wednesday 16 July 2008

Lola passed away about 7am.  In spite of everything, because I promised him earlier, I brought Roo to the beach, and we stayed there while everybody else was making arrangements for the burial.  At one point, Roo asked...

Mommy, where's lola?

Lola's sleeping anak.  We won't see her anymore till Jesus comes.

Daddy E and Roo stayed at home during the funeral and burial services, then came to the memorial park right after.  As soon as Roo saw Lolo's very, very sad face, he bawled out loud and started crying so hard we didn't know how to comfort him!  

...............................................................................................................................................

Thursday 17 July 2008

In the morning while we were cuddling...

Roo:  Mommy, did lola die?

Mommy (choking back tears):  Yes, anak.  Lola died.

Roo:  Why, mommy?

Mommy:  She was very sick anak.

Roo:  Why, mommy? Did bad people hurt her?

Mommy:  No, anak. Nobody hurt lola.  She just died.  We don't know why she died.

.............................................................................................................................................

Friday 18 July 2008

Right after he woke up...

Roo (with tears in his eyes):  Mommy, when I'm big, will you die also like lola, then I won't have a mommy anymore also?

................................................................................................................................................

Saturday 19 July 2008

Roo:  Daddy, let's go home to Thailand.  I like it better in Thailand!

Resting in Peace

Dear friends,

Our beloved mother passed away yesterday morning, and we had a simple but meaningful burial service last night. Our hearts are deeply saddened but we are comforted with the blessed hope of seeing her on the resurrection morning when Jesus comes again.   I thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the prayers, encouragement, and support that you have given me through your comments, phone calls, text messages, emails, thoughts, and prayers.  I may not be able to respond to each of them right now but please be assured that your sympathies and concern are greatly appreciated.  I am grateful to God for all the people He has sent our way, family and friends who were and are giving us so much love and support at this difficult time.  

We take comfort in the words from John 11:25 I am the resurrection, and the life; he that believeth in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.

Love to all in Christ,

IA

Trust in the Lord

My mom had a stroke.  She is in the ICU unconscious.  I ask for prayer.  I'm praying that God will heal her.  I claim the promise in Malachi 4:2 for my mom.  ..."Unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of righteousness arise with healing in his wings."

I am afraid.  Yet will I trust in the Lord.  He is faithful.  He is powerful.  O Lord God of our fathers, art not thou God in heaven? and rulest not Thou over all the kingdoms of the heathen? and in thine hand is there not power and might, so that none is able to withstand thee?  2Chronicles 20:6

Thus saith the Lord unto you, Be not afraid nor dismayed...for the battle is NOT yours, but God's.  2 Chronicles 20:15

Praise the Lord for He is our God!  Do pray for us as we travel home to be with my parents.  I believe prayers work wonders, and we do need them.  Thank you from the bottom of my heart!

Sophie Comes to Bangkok

When Roo was just a few months old, his lolo (grandfather) met a French lady whose baby was nibbling on a rubber giraffe.  The baby seemed very happy and content with the toy that lolo determined his apo (grandson) should have one too.  He asked the lady where she got it, and she replied that it's from France, and that it's a must-have for all French babies.  Thus, the search for Sophie the giraffe started.

Lolo went to several shopping malls to look for Sophie.  He didn't find any.  He ended up buying a stuffed cow that moos which his apo greatly loves to this day.

I googled Sophie and found only one result.  Then I remembered Tina was in France!  I asked her to check if she can find Sophie there, and she said she'll try.  I didn't hear from her for many, many months.  Too many months, I should say, for when she finally shouted "Eureka, I found one!" Roo was not a baby anymore.  

Anyways, Tina arrived from France and when we met up yesterday, surprise, surprise!  She brought Sophie the Giraffe to Bangkok!  Well, she still made the not-a-baby-anymore Roo happy with it!  Thank you Tita Tina!

Here, meet Sophie la girafe in the Land of Smiles...

And here's Roo with Sophie, wearing my green Barcelona shirt from Tita Tina...

Sophie the little giraffe was born on 25 May 1961.  Statistics show that over 10 million babies have enjoyed Sophie's natural beauty and charm.  It is said that in France, 6 out of 10 newborn babies are given their own Sophie la Girafe.  

Produced by VULLI, a company based in Rumilly in the French Alps, Sophie is made from 100% natural rubber derived from the sap of the Hevea tree.    Until now, Sophie is still "traditionally" produced, and that means, it's still made by hand, and requires 14 manual operations.  Features include:

· Lightweight & easy to grasp for tiny hands. 
· Painted with non-toxic, food-grade paints. 
· Stimulating to baby’s senses with her soft colors & gentle squeak. 
· Sophie the Giraffe is Phthalate-Free with NO Vinyl (no-PVC)! 
· Bumpy head helps soothe sore, teething gums. 
· Sophie makes a soft squeak when squeezed - such fun for a baby! 
· Slender, flexible & soft - babies love manipulating & teething Sophie. 
· 7” Tall (17cm) 
· Natural Rubber is soft, safe & non-toxic for baby to teethe & chew.

(from the internet)

Twos

Thanks for the tag, Jenny!

Two names you've gone by: IA, Carnation (don't ask how I got that name :D)

Two things I’m wearing right now: Black capri pants and white tee-shirt.

Two things I have in a relationship (with my Man): Honesty: We keep no secrets from each other.  Friendship: He's my bestest buddy!

Two of my favorite things to do:  Traveling with my boys.  Spending time with family and friends.

Two things you did last night:  Emailed and texted family about a reunion.  Attended kids' social night.

Two people you last talked to:  my Man and Roo

Two things you’re doing tomorrow:  Proofread my transcriptions. Book Chiangmai trip for Tina.

Two longest car rides: Drive on the west coast of NZ, were on the last leg of our trip, scenery was pretty much like Asia so I got homesick and just wanted to get home.  Drive from Phuket, south of Thailand, we were driving at night, I couldn't sleep in the van and it was taking forever to get back to Bangkok.  I still wouldn't want to go back to Phuket if you say that we'll drive, because of that long, long trip.

Two favorite holidays: Songkran (Thai New Year) and everybody else's New Year :D

Two favorite drinks:  Smoothies and any chocolate drink.

Two things about me you may not have known:  When I was small, I drank eggplant down like medicine because my dad said I had to eat it.  And I never ate tomatoes until about a year ago (I took the spanking, no one could ever make me eat them red, seedy fruit!)

Two jobs I’ve had in my life: Teaching adorable 3rd graders:  The best job in the world, kept me occupied every minute, every hour of the working day.  Counting other people's money at a bank: I lasted three months, it's the most boring job in the world! Ask my mom, she did it for 20 years! 

Two movies I would watch over and over: Ohhh, can't think of any...Sound of Music? (At least I have to watch it over and over again, now, coz Roo likes it).  A Walk to Remember. I'm still a romantic :D 

Two favorite foods:  Nachos with lots of cheese and salsa. Lad Na Kai (fried noodles with chicken in gravy)

Two places I’d rather be right now: NZ, definitely, no dust and it's cold there right now (I'm sweltering in the heat here!)  Roxas, home with my parents (is it obvious that I'm homesick?)

Two people I tag: The Best Things in Life Aren't Thingsand I am Quiet Heart

Bring the King Back!

That was the title of the message at church today.  Bring the King back.  The pastor shared the story of Absalom, that time when he wanted to unseat David and be king himself.  David left Jerusalem because of the civil unrest, but God did not allow Absalom to succeed in his plans. When Absalom lost his life, David had to initiate the move to bring him, the king, back to Jerusalem to rule over God's people.

Who is the King of my life?  Does my King sit upon the chambers of my heart, or have I in my own selfish way unseated Him, and let me, myself, sit on the throne and rule my life?  Do I need to bring the King back?

Roo's favorite character, Pooh would say:  Think, think, think.

Jesus, You are my King!  I may not always be faithful, but I thank You that You are faithful!  I want You to be in my heart, all the time!  Take my thoughts, my heart, my life, O Lord, and rule within me.  May I be a blessing to everyone who passes my way.

God is Just Sooo Good!

The past couple of weeks, I was in a state of stress and turmoil.  I was worried about the Learning Lab 1 reports that I mailed to Penn Foster about a month ago.  I hadn't heard from them, and when I emailed the school to check whether my reports had been received, they emailed me back saying there's no record of receipt.  Now the school's policy is, I cannot submit my last requirement, the Learning Lab 2 reports, if I don't get the graded Lab 1 reports back. And it takes them a month to grade the work.  My deadline, September 15, is fast approaching.

We contacted the Post Office, had them trace where my registered mail went, and until now they are still doing their investigations.  Last we checked the other day, they are awaiting the reply of the US Postal Service.  What do I do in the meantime?  You bet I sent panic prayers up, and asked several people to help me pray.  Still it was difficult for me to wait and do nothing.  I could print out the reports again, but I can't mail a new batch because I don't have the answer sheet that the school requires to be mailed along with the reports.  So I emailed the school again, asking for a new answer sheet.

Last night, I requested my Man to go down to the mailbox and check if there are new bills in the mail.  He came back, rejoicing with a loud voice, "Praise the Lord, ching-ching!"  He was waving a big white envelope to me, and it took me a few seconds to realize that those were my reports! They came back!  That's good, at least I can now resend them.  Will have to DHL them this time. But no, when I finally sat down to look at them, they were graded!  Praise the Lord! (Ching-ching, by the way, is a Thai word, loose translation is really, truly!)

Maybe I have a chance of getting that medical transcriptionist diploma after all.  My Learning Lab 2 reports just need some fine-tuning; I need to compare them with the graded ones (boy, I sure made a lot of mistakes with the commas; can never really figure out where they want the commas).  

Anyways, got to run, have a little boy waiting to play (I hear him praying in the other room, must be playing church).   Hope your day goes as great as mine...Ciao!

Careers and Changes

Way, way back in grade school, I wanted to be a doctor.  Or a lawyer.  Well, I thought I did.  

Fast forward to the early part of my senior year in high school, I made my choice.  I can NOT be a lawyer because of my moral convictions.  So a doctor I will be.  I applied to a university to take Medical Technology as my premed course and got accepted.

A few weeks before going off to college, I visited a sick relative in the hospital.  While walking down the hospital ramp, I suddenly realized that I can NOT  be a doctor either!  Why, I hardly even want to go to hospitals even just for short visits!  How much more show up for work there every single day of my working life??!

I might as well have played the eenie-meeni-minie-mo from there on.  I didn't have a single clue where to go. What to do.  It was too late to apply anywhere else, and I didn't know what to apply for anyway!

Well, fortunately for me, my grades were high enough to be exempt from the entrance exams in one university.  So, enrollment day, I walked through the gates of Central Philippine University (CPU) ready to enroll in college.  As to what college, I was clueless.  Hmm, let's see.  I'm quite good with numbers, so maybe I can do well in Engineering?  

Yeah, why not!  I got excited at that thought.  I had finally come up with something. I walked to the college of engineering, took one look, and backed out.  The whole building was full of men!  They might as well have posted a big sign on the entrance saying, "For MEN only!"  I don't know what came to me, usually I like hanging out with guys, especially the funny and intellectually-stimulating ones, but the sight of a whole building teeming with people of the opposite sex only, kind of scared me.  Or was it because I did not see any of the good-looking ones?  Could be. ;D

Anyways, so I ended up enrolling in the College of Accountancy.  From day one, I got caught up with the challenge of staying in the program.  They had this rigid screening which downsized seven sections of bright-eyed, enthusiastic freshmen, to just one class of forty-something seniors.  Seniors who walked around campus with their calculators and worksheets. Oh but if you think those college days were all about debits and credits,  you're wrong! I had a lot of fun learning how to skip classes (see this post), sometimes just to hang out; other times to watch guys play soccer or baseball at the field!  Oh, and did I mention I did meet some cute guys from the engineering department in some of my classes? ;D

The happy ending to that part of my story is that I never got to practice Accounting.  The winds of fate blew me across the ocean and I found myself working with people who didn't understand a word I was said.  I could have talked in Ilonggo (that's my dialect) with them and they wouldn't have known the difference! They were insurance adjusters, and they needed help writing and editing their English reports.  I forced myself to learn all the engineering stuff I should have learned in CPU.  My engineer colleagues had to explain to me how they build roads and buildings. I had to wear that hard hat as I visited oil refineries and cement factories.  Now, you can ask me to write a short story, or a journal entry, and I can somehow conjure a presentable tale, and a balanced debit/credit, but when it comes to machineries and equipment, you must understand that my mechanical aptitude test showed borderline idiocy!  How I managed to write reports on construction, machineries and equipment, how they were damaged and repaired, is still beyond me!  Those were miracles that God performed everyday for two long years!

Whew! Don't you just wish the story stops there?  I do.  This saga is getting long.  But if you're still with me, you will smile when you discover what I will have been doing next.  You see, many, many years ago, I told myself that the last thing I would ever think of doing, is teaching.  And yes, you guessed it right.  I became a teacher!  It wasn't something that came overnight.  Oh no!  It was a long and tedious process, I now think, of the Holy Spirit working in me, and changing me into someone He wanted me to be in the first place.  You see, I've never really asked God what He designed me to be.  It was always about myself.  What I wanted to be, and what I dreamt to be.  When it was supposed to be, what He thought it best for me to be.

So a teacher I became for five wonderful years!  I love kids and being with them, and seeing them grow and learn, was such a delight!  The job kept me busy all day, and sometimes all night (that's when I dream about lesson plans, and disciplinary stuff).  I saw myself blossom and grow with the kids.  I tackled the challenge of engaging their growing minds and facilitating their learning with interesting and relevant life lessons.  I learned patience.  I showed love.  I experienced grace.

Little did I know that God was preparing me for something more wonderful and amazing. Motherhood. Before I became a mother, I had thought that teaching was the most tiring, most exhausting, yet most fulfilling job there is.  I was wrong.  Mommying a little baby who hardly slept when he was newborn made me experience and know the meaning of the words, tired and sleepless.  Let me tell you though that this 24/7 job, with no day-off and no sick leave, has made me the happiest person alive!  No words can describe the feeling that wells up within me when my boy looks up at me with a twinkle in his eyes and he declares that he loves me all the way to the moon and back and back. I will never be able to explain the pride in my heart when he oh-so-patiently tries to explain what's on his mind (Mommy, what I'm saying is...).  And nothing can beat the peace in my soul when he kneels down each morning, and asks Jesus to be in his heart.

I don't really know what God wants me to do next.  I'm content and fulfilled in my current post: being a mommy to my little Roo.  One day I could become a full-time medical transcriptionist. I could finally start a business.  I could perhaps go back to teaching.  I don't know.  Things change.  I change.  One thing I know, mommying Roo is something I will do, with all my heart and soul, for the rest of my life.

Quiet Thoughts

My eyes are still heavy with sleep but my mind is already whirling.  The wind woke me up.  It's a good thing too for it is a lovely morning.  The birds are chirping their early morning praises. I hear the rooster crowing from a distance.  A light shower is refreshing the earth.  Perfect for quiet meditation.

We are at the "tiny" hotel we frequent.  Roo calls it tiny and he has every reason to.  It is perhaps the smallest hotel we've been to.  The parking lot can hold less than twenty cars.  This is the view from my window, and that's all there is to this place.

But we like it.  Not only for it's reasonable price but also that it's new, it's clean, and it's very quiet. It sits at the bottom of a hill in a quiet part of Pattaya.  Before we discovered this haven, I've never really liked the idea of spending the weekend at Pattaya.  I think it's no different than Bangkok.  There are always too many people, and the traffic is just as bad, if not worse.   But we found this place and we got hooked!  And so since we've come here often enough this year, our stay at this time is free!  Yup, they had this promotion when we registered to become members, you stay ten nights, you get one night free.

Yesterday, while walking along the shore, I found some tiny fish.  They weren't breathing anymore, but they were fresh!  Meaning, it looked like they just lost it when they were washed to shore.  Excited to show my catch to my boys, I turned back.  And that's when I noticed the woman.  She was walking towards me with her daughter.  She was carrying this big bag, and every now and then she would pick up something from the sand.  As we met, her eyes darted from my hand to my face, and she beamed me a smile.  I stole a glance at her bag and saw fish and squid inside.  Thinking of contributing my find to their dinner, I hurried to back to Roo and daddy E.  My boys were excited to see the fish; Roo asked if he could touch them and daddy E asked if he could take pictures of them dead fish. I waited as patiently as I could while the daddy snapped picture after picture of the fish on my hand.  Then I hastened back to catch up with the woman, and handed her the fish.  She flashed me a grateful smile, and said "Khap khun khah." That's thank you in Thai.

Many people perhaps would feel sorry for the woman.  Maybe she doesn't have a job.  Maybe her husband doesn't earn enough to feed the family.  Everyday she walks the long stretch of beach, back and forth, several times, to find enough food for her family.  She told us she gets like a kilo of fish some days.  In many ways, I say she's blessed.  I think it's grand that her life is that simple!  She lives by the beach.  She gets to exercise.  She feeds her kids fresh fish without spending a single satang (cent).  What's more, her children get to play on the sand and breathe fresh air day in and day out!  

I wish I could bring that thought further but duty calls.  My boys are awake and it's time for worship.  Take care y'all, hope you have a relaxing Sunday!  

No More Tears, No More Crying Again...

One of my favorite songs about the Advent of Jesus has this line, "No more tears, no more crying again..."  Right now, I yearn for that time more than ever.  That time when we don't have to say goodbyes anymore.  When we don't miss anybody anymore.  When we can all just be together with our loved ones any time we like.

Roo is missing his friend, Gianni.  Very badly.  Ever since Gianni left for the US last Saturday, he's had nightmares, crying and moaning in his sleep.  And when he is awake, he's constantly asking, "Why does Gianni have to go to America?"  "Is he coming back?"  All day long, every few minutes, he'd untiringly ask, "Mommy, where's Gianni?"

We feel sorry for him but there's nothing much we can do about it.  It's part of life here on earth to say goodbye, and I'm sorry that he's learning very early to live with that.  You won't really know the separation affects Roo so much until in the middle of play, he'll blurt out, "I'm sad." These days he cries over his videos ending, or a song ending, or even that of a happy story, when he usually doesn't.  We see his stress from all the rashes that suddenly appeared again, itching him to tears.  I hear it in his early morning demand for his daddy, when he normally just accepts it that daddy is at work when we wakes up.  For the first time, he is not content to be with me, he wants his daddy too, as if scared that daddy would leave him too.

Oh for that day when Jesus would bring all the families and friends together, to part no more! Then and only then would we know how it is to be of no more tears, no more crying over parting!

What's On Your To-Do List?

1.  My last 3 transcriptions (hurray! at the rate I'm going, that will still take two to three weeks.)
2.  Start a part-time transcription job (which means I'll be earning, never mind that it's just in cents, some challenge but less time blogging :()
3.  Plan a short family vacation (where to go? when to go?)

Rain and Rain Away

I can't place exactly when I started liking rain.  I know I haven't always liked it.  When I was small, we weren't allowed to play in the rain because our parents said playing in the rain could make us sick.  And indeed, we always got sick the times we disobeyed and got wet in the rain.  

During my school days, I remember chanting the rhyme, "Rain, rain, go away..."everytime it looked like rain because I didn't like walking in the puddles, and getting all dirty, and because it was so hard to go and come back from school when it rained.  Now that I think about it, it could have been in college that I started to welcome rainy days.  Not because I enjoyed walking in the rain to and from the university, but because the rain gave me an excuse to use up the number of days I was allowed to be absent (in other words, I skipped classes, shhh!).  It was definitely more fun to snuggle in bed with my favorite novel, than to get wet in the rain and shiver in class.

Then when I arrived here in Bangkok, and was on my own for the first time, I became all obsessed--if I may call it that--with walking and playing in the rain.  I was always the only one happy in the office when the skies would open up and pour its great blessing just when we're ready to go home.  Everybody else would scramble to their cars, and hurry home to beat the traffic, while I would refuse any ride, so I could walk, ever so slowly, umbrella-less, home to my apartment. My officemates thought I was crazy!

Okay, so that was just a phase.  I've gotten over that it's-raining-I-just-have-to-get-out-there stage of my life, but the rain still makes me giddy-happy.  I like it especially when my whole family is home and it rains very, very hard!  Gives me a sense of peace, makes me feel safe. It kind of washes away my worries and cares too, like God is telling me, "I AM here for you, you have nothing to worry about."


 
Took this picture at Cha Am beach last Saturday (yes, we were at the beach again! We enjoyed the quiet--seemed like we were one of the few beachbums who love the beach even when it's raining).  Wish I could tell you that those three people under the umbrella were us.  How I envied them!  Daddy E understood the struggle in me and was so kind to ask me, several times, if I'm game.  Sigh.  It looked like so much fun but I'm a mommy now.  I have Roo to think about. The rain was heavy, and the wind was quite strong...it had to be a no-no.



This picture was taken the following day, Sunday.  I tell you, it was eerie! Huge black clouds surrounded our area like we were doomed!  Daddy E snapped pictures like crazy while I watched the rain pour from our window with a big smile on my face.  Rain, rain away...

Look who else enjoyed the rain...



Mr. Snowman!  This grasshead is Roo's first attempt at planting, and I was excited to watch the twinkle in his eyes when he sees the miracle of seeds growing.  We followed the instructions ever so carefully, but I guess Mr. Snowman just didn't get enough water.  Or like Daddy E says, the nutrients of the rain made a difference.  Anyways, a few weeks ago, Roo and I shared a laugh as we counted the snowman's hair with just one hand!  But look at him now!  How he thrived in the refreshing blessing of the rain!

Sleep is Sound When We're at Peace with Each Other

Thank God for Moles!

I've always known that I am special.  That God created me in His own wonderful way.  That every part of the body He designed just for me has its own function.  That even the most tiny parts have their own purpose.  

Even the moles.

I never really appreciated having moles.  There were times I even questioned why I had so many of them.  The flat ones, they're okay, they don't bug me.  But the ones that grow, those are the kind I'd rather not dot my skin.  I've had to go under the knife to remove them twice already.  And that's one too many for me!

Roo, however, made me see things differently.  The other day, I was still snuggling in bed when he jumped out of bed, and knelt down alone for his morning prayer.

"Dear Jesus, thank you for the beautiful world.  Thank you for my mommy's mole.  Thank you for being in my heart today.  Amen."

He thanked God for my mole!  Not just any mole on me, the real mole, he would say.  All the others he calls my pretend moles.  The mole he's grateful for is that tiny black protusion on my left upper arm.  His source of comfort.  When he's sad, or distressed, upset, or frustrated, he comes to me, cuddles and taps the mole until he feels better.  He also loves falling asleep cuddled right next to the mole.  Many times he exclaims, "I love your mole, mommy!"



God must have smiled as He carefully molded the tiny black spot that was to comfort and soothe my son.  He must have enjoyed warm thoughts while He placed that mole on of my arm, knowing the peace and love my little boy would feel as he touches my mole.

God, I praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Marvelous are Your works, and that my soul knows very well. 

Beach Bums Return to the Beach

Bangkok is hot and humid. Fresh air at the beach beckons. We just couldn't resist.  

Result: Another unplanned trip to the beach!

Because we were at the beach just two weeks ago, and because there wasn’t time to make any hotel reservations, we decided to make it a day trip.  To the nearest beach just for the day. Never mind that it’s usually crowded there. Never mind that the beach there is not that nice. We just want the fresh air. And Roo just wants the sand.

Bangsaen beach is about an hour’s drive from Bangkok. The last time we came, Roo was about four months old. That's way, way back.  Too long ago for him to remember.  So when I asked if he would like to see the fishies at the aquarium, he said "Yes!"  right away.



Bangsaen aquariums is part of Bangsaen Marine Institute.  It's located about two hundred meters away from the beach.  The fish and other underwater creature collection is quite large and varied, even better than the ones at Underwater World in Pattaya where you pay three hundred baht to get in.  Entrance fee is here is just Bht.30 (used to be twenty baht).  







Because my memory is shorter than Dory's, I can only tell you that this fish is the lion fish.  The other two, I'll have to ask Roo.  I completely forgot.



And that's the grumpy old grouper who coughed right in front of Roo and scared him so much that we had to cut our visit short and head for the beach to help him forget the nasty-looking fish.



And Roo started his hungry strike. So happy that he can finally be in the sand, he politely refused our invitations to eat lunch with us. While we enjoyed tinolang manok, chicken barbeque, somtum and spicy mango salad, Roo scooped shovel after shovel of sand into his bucket.



This is what happens when you play with ice on the sand: a cold and dripping sand wonder for our little explorer.



Lucky for him, his photo-hungry daddy couldn't resist taking some pictures on the beach.  First chance he got, he followed daddy right into the midday heat and enjoyed the few minutes he had playing with the water.

A Day at Chokchai Farm

We left Bangkok prepared for another scorching summer day.  Surprisingly, Saraburi was enjoying rainshowers that day, making our visit at the farm pleasantly cool :D



First stop:  Cow-milking!  They showed us both the traditional and modern methods of milking cows.  



Here's Uncle Nimit trying his hand on the old fashioned way of cow-milking...



This carriage was our ride around the farm.  



I want to ride the horse Dodo!



Boy, these deer sure eat fast!  



Whoah!  This calf is ravenous! I'm having a hard time holding the bottle!



Mommy, the camels are very bbbaaa-hoooo!



Baby Roo wants to hold the little lamb



Like Mary's lamb, its fleece was white as snow.



This is what we mostly go back to Chokchai Farm for!  Yummy steak burgers!



What better way to end of the day at the farm than to sit down and enjoy a cup of chocolatey fresh cow's milk!  Ummm, milk!

Sleepless but Happy

I'm counting down.  Alone (huhuhu).  Blame it on a severe case of insomnia.  My boys are fast asleep, snoring their way to dreamland.  I can't sleep.  Not only because ten pm is not bedtime for me yet, but also because in about an hour's time, we're supposed to pick up my mom and dad at the airport!  Yaaaay!  

This afternoon, while Roo was biking around our tiny living room, he noticed that I was extraordinarily happy.  So he asked, "Mommy, why are you happy?"

I told him I'm happy because my mommy and daddy are coming!  He beamed me a smile that said he understood the feeling, then said, "I'm happy too mommy, that your mommy and daddy are coming."

That's an understatement.  The last time my mom and dad were here, he didn't even eat for many days because he got too excited!  This time I didn't even want to start a countdown with him, for fear that all his physiological processes and schedules will get skewed again.  But nothing can stop him from planning what he'll do with his "dodo and doda" when they arrive.  He knew that they were coming in April, and for more than three months, I had to put up with "Mommy, is it April already?" just about everyday.  He claimed one of our desk calendars as his own, asked me to show him where April was, then proceeded to inform us what he would do with dodo and doda on this "number" and that "number," pointing to the dates, as if he really knew what he was talking about.  His dad and I could only smile in amusement.
 
The next twenty days with dodo and doda will surely be busy for Roo.  He has lots of stories to tell, many new songs to sing for them, and he's excited to show them how to do puppet shows! He also can't wait to show them that he can now ride the bike that they gave him as a present for his 2nd birthday.  He's going to a farm with them, watch traditional and modern cow-milking with them, learn how to make ice cream with them.  For Songkran, he's going to the beach with them!  Of course, he doesn't forget to add, "And with mommy and daddy too!"

Exciting days ahead for me too!  Since I will have very willing babysitters, it means I can go out on a date with MY man (finally! It's hard to even have a meaningful conversation these days).  I also need to finish my med transcription course, catch up with my reading, take up a short cooking class, and hopefully, do a lot of blog-hopping, if not blogging :D

What Was That, Again?

I have a Roo story. But it’s hush-hush okay, because Roo gets embarrassed when I tell Roo stories to people. So promise me you won’t laugh out loud.

Roo likes animals, especially cats and dogs. Whenever he sees them, whether on the street, or at the park, he will always stop and say hello. When he goes too close, his dad would say, “Now, Roo, you don’t know the cat (or dog) okay, and they don’t know you, so you cannot pet or touch them.” So the rule is, if he doesn’t know the animal, or vice versa, he’d better not touch them. Because those animals might bite, scratch or hurt him.

One afternoon, I was in the kitchen, when my hated of all pests, a cockroach, walked down the wall right in front of me. See, I can tolerate mice, any kind of lizard, or even snakes. But cockroach, no. I get all frantic and jumpy when I see them. Roo stopped playing when he heard me shriek, “Cock-roooooach!” Immediately, he came to the kitchen gate and asked, “Are you okay, mommy?”

After things quieted down, or rather, I calmed down, I sat at the table to eat mangoes with Roo. He was all questions.

“Mommy, why are you scared of the cockroach?”

“Mommy, is daddy scared of the cockroach too?”

I explained that I’m not really scared, like frightened, of a cockroach. I just find them disgusting. I don’t want to see them in the house. And that, no, his daddy is not scared of the cockroach.

Roo was quiet for a moment, as if processing everything I said. After a while, he looked up and asked so innocently,

“Mommy, why is daddy not scared of the cockroach?  Does daddy know the cockroach?”

Like Father, Like Son

Like his daddy E, Roo is into photography. We bought him his own toy camera, but he always wants the real thing. One night, at a party, while his daddy E was busy taking pictures of everything and everybody, Roo got hold of our point and shoot and like his daddy E, clicked the evening away.

Do you think Roo can be hired for commercial photography?



                   Hatari Electric Fan



                  Canon EOS 400D



                      Pizza Company

He also tried his hand on food photography: 



                  Juice and soft drinks



                   New flavor yata 'to



                  Steamed tabtim fish



                               Pasta



   Sharon's famous strawberry cheesecake



                       Fresh oranges

Pictures of cacti:





Now for his collection of abstract photogaphy:








Finally, his self-portrait: