a raconteur’s attempt

We used to have the coldest of winter during the end of January to February. This year spring came during the said time instead. It was warm so the puzzled flowers came out a month earlier. Last week the temperature dropped to as low as 3°C and now, the supposedly spring is  gloomy, cold and humid at times. We knew why and lets leave the environmentalist, news, Al Gore and others do the talking for that.

It just sucks cause if you’ve got children under 7 years old like me. They’ve got this seasonal sickness, as I call it. Just for weather changes my eldest catches flu or cough or what ever ailment that may be the fad for the season. Then you’ll expect me wide awake with eyes like an owl in vigil monitoring his fever, food doesn’t have a taste for me and not even blogging which I love to do doesn’t have appeal at all. Even the toughest person if you become a mother, the hardest core softens. OK, let’s include the fathers too, they might not go if you’ll send them for the ice pack.

I hope Lukie would be fine now. Its been 6 hours now and no fever yet unlike yesterday and last night, paracetamol only lowers his temp to 39°C. Hoping high also that my Dylan won’t catch it or else I’ll go crazy. When something hurts them, I feel it before they even start to register the pain.  Oh this one, you’ll end up praying to all the Saints and make “mad-mad”(pagan prayer) to all “anitos” (gods) and dead ancestors saying, “just give me all the sickness there is and spare my children please!”

To lighten up  my mood, lets go back last week. I was on the couch with Dylan and was teaching him the ‘classic close-open’ or the ‘ciao-ciao hands’ (for the Italians). Lukie (5 y/o) who was playing with his Leap Frog Pad went near the divider and said, "Mama, you’re wrong! Its like this, ‘guarda’ (look)! Close…open…close…open…" as he closes and opens the drawer. "E vero amore" (yeah, you’re right my love), I answered

One of my luxury when I was back home in Philippines was my hair being  pampered by the saloons. It was always held with care by my joyous, funny gay friends. They did almost everything with it till one time it went dry for too much handling. It was like my crown and those who knew me heard this already, “guluhin mo buhay ko, huwag lang ang aking hair” (you can ruin my life but not my hair)!

The first time me and my husband went abroad, the price of going to the hair stylist was like 5,000 converted to pesos and that’s just for the haircut. At home, you can have hair spa, dye, re-band or whatever ekk-ekk they do and make with that amount. Being new in Malta that time, converting every amount to our currency in the Philippines made me stringy and the pay for my crown wasn’t spared. So I asked Boogie to cut it for me. “Trim lang lakay”, I told him. So, he did and I ended up crying.

I cried not because of the uneven cut but with self pity. It was like, at home I can do what I want and here I’m confined to certain limitations. See what hair can do? Made me so silly yet awakened the realization of things we use to take for granted. And yes, mango, bagoong and tuyo are included.

From that time on, I learned to cut my own hair. Thank God, I never resorted to going bald to correct the defect of the hairstyle I did. My beauticians as I recall my mom call them, taught me how to do it better when I first went back home.

I never dared to try my adopted country’s people to touch my crown. Besides I’ve seen so many Pinoys who did and they ended up paying me to repair it for them. Yep, for real, I’m being paid for it. A fall back career in case job will shut it’s door for me hehehe…Means of saving also cause I do my husband’s hair and my son’s. Poor them, they have no choice!

I just had my thinning scissors, comb and mirror work this morning. My husband told me he liked my long hair, I look innocent. Now that it’s a bit short, he said he doesn’t like it and I look like I’ve been taken a lot of times(Hmmnnn, what’s with long hair for men anyway?). Then he keeps on staring at me, that look saying, “I want you!” And, on our way to our Sunday lunch out, he told me, “yeey, you feel pretty with your hair ‘enya’ mama?” He just doesn’t know how light the world it is for me with my new do.

1:16AM

Bed’s warmth can’t captivate my sleeping desire tonight. I have to empty my thoughts. This would mean I will be floating the next day, dizzy from my lack of sleep. I just closed a book, the Nights In Rodanthe by Nicholas Sparks.

Not the kind of book that I would keep but it made me write this. 

In today’s snappy stride of living where in life competes with time to grab what gives you comfort, INDIVIDUALITY shuns LOVE and becomes a barrier to the wonder of giving the whole you.

Attributed to PAST, DREAMS AND CHANGE etc…"some" regard love as for hopeless romantics and reserve themselves not to TRUST.

NICHOLAS SPARKS for me "sparks" cause he captures the traditional meaning of how it is to love - Its "S-E-L-F-L-E-S-S-N-E-S-S". Less yourself to buffer presumptions and prejudices. Giving way to offering the PURITY OF YOUR INTENTIONS. Thus, opening your heart regardless of uncertainties.

If it works, a happy ever after. If not, life goes on and there is no young nor old for this thing called LOVE.

I believe that if you know how to love, you can trust, you can forgive, you can laugh and you are capable of being truly happy.

Just PLUNGE! Let go and follow your heart. Sounds corny but I tried doing so and it had given me a better understanding, meaning and so many reasons to live. I don’t own diamonds but my own growing family radiantly gives me infinite joy.

Sure, there will never be assurance to how will it last but I can always say, “I’ve been there!”

The last time I went home Daddy showed me his collection of films and I saw N. Sparks’ The Notebook, I told him I’ve watched it and my sisters told me,"Si Daddy kadi, dinoble-doble tu a binuya tan in advertise tun da uncle Eddie tan anti Mary. I dodolin to pay."(Daddy had seen it more than once and had told uncle and aunt to see it, he even keeps the CD).

Last Sunday, we went to my cousin Susan’s place. We ordered pizza and Chinese food for lunch. No one cooked cause we just showed up there. That’s what I like with just popping out, no troubles made.

We went to the bar after and the grown ups ordered cappuccinos. A hot chocolate drink for Lukie and ‘tropicale’ juice for his father.

The kid’s drink looks enticingly good, I stirred it for Lukie and had a taste. It was thick, hot, not too sweet and well, chocolate is chocolate, you know.

Then I took some into my cappuccino and my cousin said, “ako nga rin”(me too). Since it was hot, Lukie’s father spoons, blows and tastes it before putting it into his son’s mouth(that’s my 5 year old son, still spoon feeding when we’re around).

The three grown ups(me, Boogie and Manang Susan) were taking turns baby feeding my son while test tasting it at times. Poor Lukie, maybe he only had half of it.

We should have ordered this divine, dark devilish drink. But, every one’s cutting off sweets (really). Yeah right!

Manang Susan patiently gave the last spoons to my son then said, “No more Lukie (while scraping and shoving what’s left of the choco into her mouth), this is for Auntie!” Then we all chorused into a loud laugh.

We woke up yesterday  morning finding our Angel Fish dead. Dirty Aquarium????….That’s another blog hahaha… Lukie saw the poor lifeless creature and said, “Mama, on Saturday let’s go buy a new fish”.

Huh? Did I hear that right? I didn’t know what to say. I just told him, “Poor little fish, he’s dead. He’s gone, we won’t be seeing him anymore.”

I was expecting a bit of empathy out there but what I got was…”let’s go buy”. The flashbacks came(like you’re watching a sitcom or a movie). Shoes don’t fit…”let’s go buy another Geox Mama”. No more yogurt…”we go buy at CRAI”. Toy-doesn’t work…”buy batteries”…

Last Christmas:LUKIE: “Mama, perche Papa e’ sempre al’ lavoro(why is Papa always at work)?

                                ME: “He has to work so that we’ll

                                 have  money to pay for the house, your school bus etc… We alse need money to buy presents for Christmas

                            LUKIE: “But, we have so many presents already. Look!(pointing at the gifts under the Christmas tree.)

Got to check on this buying thing. My children might think they can just buy a Mama from the Mall.

One of my collection  NO HEROES by Chris Offut  http://www.amazon.com/No-Heroes-Memoir-Coming-Home/dp/0684865521 , a book given by Miss Pilar to my father in law when he went to one of his conference in the US. We pirated it from Pa’ the last time we went home. He haven’t even read it yet.

May I quote what Arthur(a character in the story) said…"Home is a feeling, nothing more. Home is illusory like love, then it disappears.  Once you leave, you become a stranger." For me, these 3 sentences said the whole book.

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There is no day when I was young of not dreaming that I would leave, chase my mark somewhere and bring it back home.  “Ag abroad pay adi tapos ag Mayor ak”(I’ll go abroad And then, I’ll become the mayor of our town) were my delusions before.

So I did leave. But then again, there is no day I don’t think of going back. Philippines: Family, friends, places, foods, and night life are the scenarios I see in my daydreamings. Staying there for good will be my final halt. The reminder that shoves me to work. I mean, really work.

But then again, every time I go back home so many qualms that belittles my longing to stay. Its becoming more and more impossible.

For one my son can’t cope with our water, food and the pollution. Every time we’re in the Philippines he is a regular visitor to our family physician. Its just doesn’t look good being fussy specially when my family there lovingly gives him something to eat and I’m like, “Waaaitt! Sterilize, isopropyl alcohol, wash hands….” Besides, Its so tiring cooking a separate plate of pasta for him.

Another is, PICTURE THIS: A ship full of people. Its sinking and the politicians and their cronies are the only ones with life jacket. People falling grabbing onto others to stay in the ship or grabbing to join the falling so as they wont be alone in the drowning.

Gone was the old Baguio, its becoming more and more like Manila. So sad to think about it but the restoration of what the city was known for is of nil chance. I hope I’m wrong with this though.

Funny cause I’m unfamiliar with my time and space. Like I have to phone up my sister just to ask where Shakey’s is. I can’t go downtown alone anymore. One more thing, I seem can’t accept that a hundred pesos CAN NOT take you to the movies after a lunch of 2 pcs Chicken Joy at Jollibee. I’m sort of fixated with the value of pesos when I left. (Sigh)

Then again, I have to leave. Arthur was right, …"Home is a feeling, nothing more. Home is illusory like love, then it disappears.  Once you leave, you become a stranger."

I may have written a long piece for this but for sure, I will keep on going back and Philippines will always be my home

Dylan had his first shot of vaccines yesterday. What a brave boy. 2  injections which he didn’t cry with the first one. He looked like,“Oh yeah, that was it? Next!” Then the second needle got in his porky limb. “Huuwaaaa!!!!!!! What you do?… Call the child abuse people, they hit me with their best shot!”…. I held him and gone were those cries.

Before the doctor examined Baby D, I asked Boogie to get the diaper bag from the baby carriage, so he went out. The doctor asked, “Is your husband scared of needles?” I answered (Laugh, laugh) “No, hhmnn I don’t know. He just went to get some stuff.” (Think, think) Hmmnnn again, I haven’t really seen my husband drugged.