Baby Roo loves to act out Bible stories. This morning, while I was engrossed in my emails, he rode his trike up to me, got off and tapped me on the arm.
Baby Roo: Is there room for us?
Mommy K (not quite sure which story he's doing this time): Wait, who are you pretending to be?
Baby Roo: Joseph.
Mommy K: Oh, ok. (Changing to the innkeeper's voice) I'm sorry but we have no more room available. But you can stay in the stable over there.
Baby Roo: Is there parking there?
Mommy K (half-listening, half-reading): What?
Baby Roo: Is there parking at the stable?
Mommy K (trying hard to keep a straight face): For your donkey? Oh yes!
Baby Roo: Okay, thank you. Bye. Clip-clop-clip-clop...(triking to the direction of the stable)
Five seconds later...
Baby Roo: Yaaaay! I found parking!!!
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Monday, February 25, 2008
Milkfish, Bangus, Bangrus
"Mommy, I want to eat bangus". He just tasted it once and he liked it! Now Roo is asking for more. Unfortunately, bangus is scarce here in Bangkok. I don’t think Thai people eat it. You won’t find it in the menu of Thai restaurants. It’s seldom sold in the wet market, and when it is, it disappears very fast because Pinoys here buy it in kilos! You can buy it in Foodland only once a week. "If only we’re in Roxas anak, we can eat bangus anytime you like".
For more than half of my growing up years, bangrus we call them, was a staple food at home. My dad grew them in fishponds, and we saw them grow from really tiny fry (when they’re like strands of hair swimming around) to really big ones (I think the biggest one I saw was about one kilo per piece) that are ready for harvest.
Harvest times were exciting times! Besides the fact that daddy would get to earn money, when we get to go to the fishpond, we had a lot of fun watching the bantays (caretakers) round up the fish, catch them, count them and store them in ice chests. What was even more fun was eating the bangus that the bantay’s wife cooked in woodfire, with the wind blowing on our face! Whether it’s fried or grilled (both really good with vinegar and chilli by the way), relleno, paksiw, or sinigang, fresh bangus really sells well in our family. We don't care that this fish is bony--we know where the not-so bony part is, hehe. We would always race to get that part first because that’s the easiest to eat, and it's the most yummy. The black stomach section is devoured in seconds :D If you're late, poor you, you will have to be patient and careful with the very fine bones of what remains of the fish.
All this talk about bangus is making me hungry. Can hardly wait to check in Foodland this week if they have it. That is, if I can remember what day it's available.
For more than half of my growing up years, bangrus we call them, was a staple food at home. My dad grew them in fishponds, and we saw them grow from really tiny fry (when they’re like strands of hair swimming around) to really big ones (I think the biggest one I saw was about one kilo per piece) that are ready for harvest.
Harvest times were exciting times! Besides the fact that daddy would get to earn money, when we get to go to the fishpond, we had a lot of fun watching the bantays (caretakers) round up the fish, catch them, count them and store them in ice chests. What was even more fun was eating the bangus that the bantay’s wife cooked in woodfire, with the wind blowing on our face! Whether it’s fried or grilled (both really good with vinegar and chilli by the way), relleno, paksiw, or sinigang, fresh bangus really sells well in our family. We don't care that this fish is bony--we know where the not-so bony part is, hehe. We would always race to get that part first because that’s the easiest to eat, and it's the most yummy. The black stomach section is devoured in seconds :D If you're late, poor you, you will have to be patient and careful with the very fine bones of what remains of the fish.
All this talk about bangus is making me hungry. Can hardly wait to check in Foodland this week if they have it. That is, if I can remember what day it's available.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Troubles & Prayers
I've always dreaded receiving bad news in the mornings. It's like I can take it any time of the day better than when I just woke up. Today I woke up earlier than usual because I heard a message beep on my phone, and also because we need to move some stuff to our new place. Daddy E greeted me with bad news: Ate Weng met an accident, she has intercranial bleeding and they're asking for prayers.
Stunned, I dropped down on the couch and sent up pleading prayers to the Great Healer. If I was anywhere near her, I would be rushing to go to the hospital, or I would call Eric right away to find out how she is. But she's like on the other side of the world, and I don't have her husband's number! Still in a daze, I walked to the kitchen and cooked rice. Have to do something, can't just sit and worry. My body went on to do the routine morning chores. Wash Roo's bottles. Load the wash.
Good thing Shirly is online. She just finished talking to Eric and updated me on the latest: MRI showed no bleeding, she has head trauma, hip fracture and punctured lungs. Good news! No bleeding! The Great Physician is already at work, I believe more miracles are on the way!
Wait. Roo is up and calling for me.
I relayed the news to my son. He listened quietly then knelt down and prayed: Dear Jesus, thank you for healing Auntie Weng. Roo has been teaching me lessons on faith. When he prays for something, he believes God will grant it, it always starts with "Thank you..." His faith is simple and he holds an excellent record for "Answered Prayers." After praying, he doesn't fret or worry about it anymore; he gets up and gets on with his play.
Let's keep praying for Ate Weng. And her husband Eric. They're in Arizona, far from family. I hope their friends will be there for them.
Stunned, I dropped down on the couch and sent up pleading prayers to the Great Healer. If I was anywhere near her, I would be rushing to go to the hospital, or I would call Eric right away to find out how she is. But she's like on the other side of the world, and I don't have her husband's number! Still in a daze, I walked to the kitchen and cooked rice. Have to do something, can't just sit and worry. My body went on to do the routine morning chores. Wash Roo's bottles. Load the wash.
Good thing Shirly is online. She just finished talking to Eric and updated me on the latest: MRI showed no bleeding, she has head trauma, hip fracture and punctured lungs. Good news! No bleeding! The Great Physician is already at work, I believe more miracles are on the way!
Wait. Roo is up and calling for me.
I relayed the news to my son. He listened quietly then knelt down and prayed: Dear Jesus, thank you for healing Auntie Weng. Roo has been teaching me lessons on faith. When he prays for something, he believes God will grant it, it always starts with "Thank you..." His faith is simple and he holds an excellent record for "Answered Prayers." After praying, he doesn't fret or worry about it anymore; he gets up and gets on with his play.
Let's keep praying for Ate Weng. And her husband Eric. They're in Arizona, far from family. I hope their friends will be there for them.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
A Valentine Story, You Say?
He's been stalking me all day. And I've been trying to look like I wasn't hiding from him. Not easy. Had to dodge in and out of rooms and hallways, and engage other people in conversation whenever he came close. I looked around one more time. Coast clear. Better head for home so I can stop playing hide and seek.
As I was walking home, he drove by in his car and beeped. I waved and heaved a sigh of relief. But NO! Now what?! About ten meters ahead, the car had stopped and the reverse lights lit up. He wasn't ready to give up. Not just yet. Oh well...
"Hi! Would you like to have dinner with me?"
I wasn't ready to give in either.
"Oh, I'm sorry but I have plans for this evening."
Well I'm glad this man, who eventually became my man, wasn't one to give up. Or I would have a different love story to tell. I guess that's what set him apart from all the other guys who were interested in me; a thousand "No.” didn't deter him. He just kept on looking for ways to break down all the walls I've built around myself. Even if it meant having to interrupt my conversations with other people ("Excuse me, may I talk to IA?") Even if it meant waking up at 1 am to buy bunches of flowers at the flower market. Even if he had to go knocking at my classroom (and end up decorating all my bulletin boards, hehe.)
It wasn’t because he’s not a nice man that I didn’t want to go out with him. In fact, he’s very nice and just about everybody likes him. It’s just that we were too different; it’s like we came from two different worlds and I didn’t see any way we could be happy together. For one thing, I am an introvert; I enjoy being with myself, I just need a few friends around and I’m happy. He on the other hand is an outgoing being who has to be around people. He is creative and artistic (found that out from the bulletin boards) while I have a hard time sketching or drawing anything beyond stick people. Music runs in his blood (How on earth did he know that guy missed a note?!) while I can barely hum a tune. I thrive on business talk and numbers; he has to use his fingers to do math (mumbling, “cannot be, carry one.”) He’s right-brained and event-oriented, and I’m the exact opposite. I can go on and on, but you get it right?
Well, this man, now MY man, turned out to be Mr. Right for me. We complement each other. One’s weakness is the other’s strength. So we make really good partners. We’re hoping our offspring will get the best of both worlds. Although I’m wondering, why did Kanga and Eeyore end up with a Roo? :D
Happy Hearts' Day everyone!
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Hear Ye, Hear Ye!
To whom it may concern:
Anju chose a nickname for himself and insists that we call him, "Baby Roo." Accordingly, he dubbed yours truly, "Mommy Kanga." Daddy's title is still on the negotiation table; Baby Roo calls him Daddy Eeyore but Daddy is asking for a reconsideration. The names Pooh or Owl are still subject to Baby Roo's approval.
Please note the changes above. New names will apply on subsequent blog entries.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
In Search of Fresh Air
Air quality around Nana has been quite bad since last week. Needless to say, my nose is 'suffering' and I am sneezing endlessly. All three of us caught colds; don't know whether it's from a virus that's been going around Clyde's office, or just in the air. We escaped to Pattaya Saturday morning for some clean, fresh air.
All the way down, we were encouraging each other "One step at a time, one step at a time!"
It's ok to sit down (and take a picture)...
Here's Andrew playing at the gardens
While running around, Andrew fell into a hole and got some dirt into his shoes. The city boy that he is cries, "Mommy! My foot is dirty! Clean my foot please??!"
Used to willingly pose for his daddy, nowadays he doesn't like having
his picture taken.
It's so refreshing to smell that sea breeze! Time for fun with the sand on the beach!
Our trip was a spur-of-the-moment thing; we weren't able to make reservations at the hotel we frequent. Too bad for us, the hotel was fully-booked! Having nowhere to go, we decided to visit one park. This exercise park is set on a hill, overlooking the city of Pattaya on one side, and the ocean on the other. From where we parked, we had to descend several flights of stairs. Andrew was like, "Mommy! It's so far!"
All the way down, we were encouraging each other "One step at a time, one step at a time!"
It's ok to sit down (and take a picture)...
Here's Andrew playing at the gardens
While running around, Andrew fell into a hole and got some dirt into his shoes. The city boy that he is cries, "Mommy! My foot is dirty! Clean my foot please??!"
Used to willingly pose for his daddy, nowadays he doesn't like having
his picture taken.
It's so refreshing to smell that sea breeze! Time for fun with the sand on the beach!
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Contemplating Seconds
Every single day I've waken up to my mommy life, no matter how little sleep I had during the night, my soul can't help but give thanks to the Lord. My heart is filled to the brim, bursting with devotion and love for the adorable little creature He has entrusted to my care. More so when the little arms reach out to cuddle close to me, smile with his eyes still close, and say sleepily, "Good morning, mommy!"
It's hard to put it in words. There's this love that wells up within me whenever I gaze at my baby, whether he's sleeping peacefully, or jumping around so actively. Everyday the sensation becomes stronger. It's a feeling so profound and so intense. So indescribable that I guess one has to experience it to understand.
Friends tell me that it becomes even more fun when you have more children. This, for me, is kind of hard to fathom right now because I believe I'm already at my happiest. What will it be like to have another baby, I wonder? How much more happy could I be? Will I have enough love for my two children, and still have some left for myself and for my husband? How will I juggle myself and my time between all the members of my family?
I've been battling with this issue for quite a while now. I say it in the singular sense because Daddy E never had to ask himself this question. He knows that he wants another child. Whenever the subject comes up, he gets so excited he'll give me a rundown of the baby names he wants to call his daughter. He's really just waiting for the green light from my side. Even Roo is asking me every now and then, "Where's my little sister, mommy?" As if knowing I need more convincing on the baby sister issue, he'd tell me that he'll help change the baby's diaper. Sigh. I really don't know. Part of me welcomes the thought of one more little me, but then a big loud voice is also insisting, "Nah, not yet."
Nope. I'm not sure I'm ready to go back to square one. I still remember quite clearly the first trimester of my first pregnancy when days were synonymous to nausea and vomitting. I don't know how I survived those first three months when I hardly ate anything because everything smelled obnoxious. I spent so much time throwing up in the bathroom I was already considering moving in and living there. Then there's the labor and delivery. People inform me I was even lucky that my labor was short, just two hours. JUST two hours? Ha! Those were still two hours of acute and excruciating pain! I can still hear myself screaming for relief whenever I allow myself think about it.
In spite of myself, the memory of my son's emergence into this world is making me smile. This walk down memory lane is slowly shifting my thoughts to more pleasant and poignant memories. The birth of my son. Oh if that wasn't a touching and beautiful moment! The first time I heard my baby cry. The first time I saw him, all red and wrinkled. The first time I cradled him in my arms and called his name, how he squinted his tiny eyes to see me. That moment when he grasped my finger and held on tight, melting and taking possession of my heart! Oh I love my little Roo so much it hurts! Like every other devoted mother I say, "He is all worth it!" Being Roo's mommy is definitely the best thing that ever happened to me!
Come to think of it, maybe having a second baby won't be as difficult. It may be still be as exhausting, but like friends suggest, I'm tired anyways, might as well have another one and get it all over with. I actually kind of miss the smell of a new baby. I miss the closeness and bonding that came with breastfeeding. It would be fun to play with a little one again, without him or her running away to do his own thing like Roo does these days. And it would be good for Roo to have a brother or sister.
Hmm. Does this mean the idea of another baby is becoming more appealing? :)
Maybe. Maybe one day I'll get there. Maybe one day I will declare myself ready for my second miracle from above. Hopefully.
It's hard to put it in words. There's this love that wells up within me whenever I gaze at my baby, whether he's sleeping peacefully, or jumping around so actively. Everyday the sensation becomes stronger. It's a feeling so profound and so intense. So indescribable that I guess one has to experience it to understand.
Friends tell me that it becomes even more fun when you have more children. This, for me, is kind of hard to fathom right now because I believe I'm already at my happiest. What will it be like to have another baby, I wonder? How much more happy could I be? Will I have enough love for my two children, and still have some left for myself and for my husband? How will I juggle myself and my time between all the members of my family?
I've been battling with this issue for quite a while now. I say it in the singular sense because Daddy E never had to ask himself this question. He knows that he wants another child. Whenever the subject comes up, he gets so excited he'll give me a rundown of the baby names he wants to call his daughter. He's really just waiting for the green light from my side. Even Roo is asking me every now and then, "Where's my little sister, mommy?" As if knowing I need more convincing on the baby sister issue, he'd tell me that he'll help change the baby's diaper. Sigh. I really don't know. Part of me welcomes the thought of one more little me, but then a big loud voice is also insisting, "Nah, not yet."
Nope. I'm not sure I'm ready to go back to square one. I still remember quite clearly the first trimester of my first pregnancy when days were synonymous to nausea and vomitting. I don't know how I survived those first three months when I hardly ate anything because everything smelled obnoxious. I spent so much time throwing up in the bathroom I was already considering moving in and living there. Then there's the labor and delivery. People inform me I was even lucky that my labor was short, just two hours. JUST two hours? Ha! Those were still two hours of acute and excruciating pain! I can still hear myself screaming for relief whenever I allow myself think about it.
In spite of myself, the memory of my son's emergence into this world is making me smile. This walk down memory lane is slowly shifting my thoughts to more pleasant and poignant memories. The birth of my son. Oh if that wasn't a touching and beautiful moment! The first time I heard my baby cry. The first time I saw him, all red and wrinkled. The first time I cradled him in my arms and called his name, how he squinted his tiny eyes to see me. That moment when he grasped my finger and held on tight, melting and taking possession of my heart! Oh I love my little Roo so much it hurts! Like every other devoted mother I say, "He is all worth it!" Being Roo's mommy is definitely the best thing that ever happened to me!
Come to think of it, maybe having a second baby won't be as difficult. It may be still be as exhausting, but like friends suggest, I'm tired anyways, might as well have another one and get it all over with. I actually kind of miss the smell of a new baby. I miss the closeness and bonding that came with breastfeeding. It would be fun to play with a little one again, without him or her running away to do his own thing like Roo does these days. And it would be good for Roo to have a brother or sister.
Hmm. Does this mean the idea of another baby is becoming more appealing? :)
Maybe. Maybe one day I'll get there. Maybe one day I will declare myself ready for my second miracle from above. Hopefully.
Entry No. 1
Confession: My mind is blank. Nothing to write about. What do you write on the first entry of your new blog? Help!
I've been blog-hopping for several days, and right now, it's all I want to do. I'm practically drooling over other people's blogs. I'm no closer to the starting line. Sigh. What can I do? I'm no writer. Wish I was. But then am not. So what am I doing in the middle of this strange and right now intimidating blog world?
Quote by William Wordsworth : Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
That I will do. But first I have to listen closely to what my heart says.
I've been blog-hopping for several days, and right now, it's all I want to do. I'm practically drooling over other people's blogs. I'm no closer to the starting line. Sigh. What can I do? I'm no writer. Wish I was. But then am not. So what am I doing in the middle of this strange and right now intimidating blog world?
Quote by William Wordsworth : Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
That I will do. But first I have to listen closely to what my heart says.
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