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?)
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
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!
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!
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
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.
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.
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