And VOILA!!

Being a non-techy person, I never had the chance to play around with the lay out of my blog more so even make a header that I really wanted. Until last weekend when Shoshana sent me an email offering that she make me a header for my blog. I could NOT contain my excitement!

I "met" Shosh almost 2 years ago and since then we have been following each other's blog.

Shosh actually asked a fellow Pinay blogger
Cathy
to make my header. I think it was really really sweet of Cathy to do this even if she has never "met" me! I'm sure she had no idea who I was but was still so nice enough to make me a header!!

Go on over and meet them and send them some love.

Thank you so so much Shoshana and Cathy!! I love my new header!!

This Time Around

Pre- 3rd pregnancy.

I asked my friend, "I wonder if even when you have your 3rd child, you still feel the same level of excitement when you had your 1st or your 2nd." She said, "I'm not the person to ask because I only have 1." And then we laughed.

And then I got the answer.

Yes, it's still the same. Although the initial feelings upon finding out may have varied for me, "the morning after" feeling is the same. It's indescribable. Future plans just coming rushing to my mind, I can't help but start to imagine what he will look like, I smile and laugh thinking about what a riot it will be with 3 boys ransacking the house.

And after giving away bags and bags and more bags of baby clothes to the orphanage, I am excited to go shopping. After all, those clothes were already 6 years old. I think the new baby deserves a more up to date clothing line. There I go with my rationalizations.



It's been icky feeling time the past month. Food in general wants to make me throw up and the feeling chooses no time. For 2 weeks I would get the morning sickness sometime between 10am - 2pm. Lately its been 8pm till I get myself to sleep. And I am so so so so damn lazy to do anything. I worship lying down time.

In The Long Run

Last weeks long weekend (not so long for me since I had a job fair on Saturday) + glorious sunshiny weather, spelled B-E-A-C-H time for us. We decided to leave for the beach after church on Sunday.
While discussing plans with the husband in the car, my 6 year old decided that he had plans of his own. He wasn't coming with us. So I asked him where he was expecting to spend the night. He said he'd be OK at my MIL's. At 6, he had it all planned out. So after the husband spoke with my MIL and made the necessary arrangements, off to the beach it was.My 2 year old was going to be "an only child" for the weekend! It did excite me. All attention on him, NO FIGHTING (that's the best part), no whining and no telling on each other. How great would that be?

How is life as an only child?

My eldest had that for 4 years. All his baby clothes were new. All his baby things were new. All his toys were new. He didn't need to share anything to anyone. Family time centered around what HE wanted to do.

I have that life until the day I die. And let me tell you it can get pretty damn lonely. It wasn't a choice that she just had me. My mom lost one before she had me and one more when I was around 3 years old. Although I never had the latest and coolest toys or clothes, the one things I always had was the attention. Whether it was for something good that I did or something not so nice. All eyes were always on me. Growing up, I learned to play alone. I thought talking to myself until the age of 12 was pretty normal. When I did get to play with my cousins, fighting would always ensue. I never really understood what it meant when my Aunts would tell my cousins to "take care of your little sister." When I got older and shared secrets with friends and vice versa, they would tell me "you're the only one who knows aside from sisters name. When I reached adulthood and I became part of the decision making process at home, there was no need to consider other siblings thoughts or opinions. But the hardest part came when my parents died. The true essence of being an only child became so so real to me. Everything that had to be decided on was on me. The responsibility never divided. Shoulders heavy. Heart broken.
I smile just by the thought that one day, my children will have each other all the way.

It's Gonna Happen Soon, No Wait! Maybe Now.

My conviction to do so (very soon) has been strengthened. I got a good laugh after checking my googleanalytics account after like forever. And I found the following entrance keywords in my report:

1. three boys and a lady

2. 3 boys and a lady

3. "intimate bridal shower"

4. 3 crazy questions to ask from a lady friend

5. a love story about boy and a lady (take note it said boy)

6. boy feeling lady breasts.

The last 2 are totally child unfriendly! And this is not what this blog is all about. I found myself laughing at how ridiculous people can get. The internet IS a dangerous place.

Uh I think I'm changing its name now.

Reality of Death

Not once did it ever cross my mind to become a doctor or a nurse. The thought of having to memorize so many technical terms scared me. But the thought of blood, tubes and having to deal with internal organs totally closed the deal for me. It scared me. It scares me.

In 2004, I came face to face with one of my greatest fears. After having collapsed at home, I found myself standing beside my father who could no longer talk, in the emergency room of the hospital. Things for him went downhill so quickly. The next day, he was already in the ICU on the respirator, with a catheter and many other tubes inserted into his very gaunt body. His eyes were covered with eye patches after he suffered a stroke and could no longer control his eyes. His chest would rise up perfectly with the rhythm of the machine. All I could do was hold his hand and assure him things were going to be ok even if deep down in my heart I knew he was a goner. A DNR form was presented to us and it didn't take long for Mom and I to decide to sign it right away. The nurse just kept monitoring his blood pressure which was dropping by the minute. Then the nurse said he was going. The machine beside him just kept beeping until all we heard was one long beep.

How was I supposed to know that 1 year and 6 months later I would have to face almost the same scenario again? Standing in the ICU of the St. Lukes Hospital, I stared at her at wondered how long she had to suffer. Conscious but on the respirator, the tube hung out of her mouth as her chest, exactly like how I remember my father's, rose in perfect timing with the machines pumping of artificial air to help her breathe. Sweat trickling down her bald head. She was sweating profusely because her heart rate was so fast. At 180-200 beats per minute, her doctor said it was as if she had been running a marathon for the past week. With the sound of a drum is if it were coming from inside her body getting stronger and stronger, we found out that the tube had been displaced. Reinsertion had to be done. The nurses moved swiftly, closed the curtains. All I heard was her struggling. It must have been a blessing that I didn't see her during her very very last hours. After being revived, I heard her eyes were popping out and had no more focus. As if they revived her just so that family members could see her "alive."

The first few months after his burial and her cremation were hard. Much as I would have wanted to remember him as the man who when I would embrace him felt as if no one could hurt me, all I could see when I Wold close my eyes was his lifeless body full of tubes. Same with her. Instead of the energetic and full of life self she always was, I would close my eyes and see her 4"8 frame so pitiful on the hospital bed.

We can never really choose how we die. I given much thought to how I would want to go. In simple terms, I'd want enough time for closure with the people I love but I would not want them to be burdened with them having to care for a physically suffering me. I'd want to be remembered not by who I was during my last days.

But you know, death can never really be bargained. The when or the how. More so the why. Death is something we hate to talk about. We feel there are more important things to think of. We never plan for it. And because of this stigma, those who are left behind -- those we truly truly love, end up hurting so much.

"Geez" A Post Full Of Rants

It didn't take long before things around me started to get annoying and irritating. Most people were happy for me and the coming of the new baby but they always had to make comments like--

"Oh, you don't look too great -- looks like you're going to have boy."

"I hope you don't have another boy!!!!!!"

"Let's cross our fingers and hope it's a girl this time!"

"You're totally having a boy, just look at you!"

"Oh no! what if it's another boy?!"

Seriously, I am only on my 9th week. The stomach is still zero visibility. I am not yet wearing my maternity clothes -- because yes, my tummy isn't showing yet! My face hasn't changed - no swollen nose or dark circles under the eyes. 

I mean what the heck is wrong with having 3 baby boys? What is wrong with not having a baby girl if it really isn't meant to be? 

I know the hormones are beginning to show. Forgive me.

Numbah Thwee

In relation to my previous post,I finally think I'm ready to post the 2nd part.

So after I left the doctor's clinic, I called the husband to tell him how it went. I couldn't even finish the sentence because of the huge knot in my throat. Thinking it was something grave, the husband dashed right out of the bank and straight to the hospital to pick me up. I was finally able to tell him the story and then I asked him to drive me to the drugstore before bringing me back to the office. So at the drugstore, I gave the prescription and patiently waited. The pharmacy assistant came back and informed me that they were out of the anti-depressants that were prescribed to me. Darn, I thought.

For the heck of making sure, I asked for a pregnancy kit.

Drumroll please....


I had been feeling weird the past month or so but wasn't paying close attention to the already symptoms at that time. So I after calling the husband, I told my officemates and I called my OB and my closest friends. Everyone was happy for me.

I have been wanting to share this news since I found out almost more than a week ago BUT was held back by a surprising reaction by someone. When I told my cousin, she sounded excited / what did you get yourself into / why?!? Maybe she was just thinking if I was still in my right mind to have another kid given that times are tough, prices of everything keeps going up child care isn't easy, etc. She told me to post on my blog when I was sure I was ready because surely other family members (my aunts) would get to read my blog and would most likely ask me questions and so I had to be ready when they did ask.

And I decided to take a step back and refrain from being excited. I thought to myself, did I do something wrong?

For the next week, I kept silent and kept thinking about everything. And today, I realized, I am happy. I am ready. I am excited. I am blessed. And I totally do not owe any explanation to anyone at all.

This is my 3rd chance to improve on my craft -- this thing we call motherhood. I am embracing this role I have been blessed with even more. This baby may have been unplanned in the sense that we were not expecting the baby this soon, but definitely this baby is well loved and is already being well taken cared of.

Last night, I lay in bed while everyone else was in deep slumber and felt that tugging feeling in my heart -- I started to miss my Mom and Dad so bad. I thought, if they were alive, they would never have doubted my and my husband's capabilities of raising 3 children. In fact, they would have been elated. I said to myself, that is what makes the big difference between the love that a parent gives a child and the love that someone else can give you. A parent's love is unconditional. I whispered to myself, hoping Mom and Dad would here me "I wish you were here-- to hold my hand and assure me." I want them so bad to still be here.

And so we're on to baby #3! The past week has been full of so many pregnancy related stories that I can't wait to share. If I may just say, the "high" feeling is exactly the same way I felt the 1st time I was pregnant and the 2nd time I was pregnant. The feeling doesn't wear off. I am excited. I'm due mid-March. I think it's going to be a boy!

It Keeps Him Busy --- It Entertains Us

It's a battle between...
The Dash Knight
And The Dark Tigger!

Clamming Up

Tonight, I am attending an intimate bridal shower / farewell / birthday party of a former officemate who has also become a friend. And although I should be feeling excited about all this (since this is the first time I will be attending a bridal shower {sheesh}), I'm actually stressing about the whole thing.

Why?

Because I will be going alone and I don't know most of the people who will be there tonight and even if I will see familiar faces, that's as far as our connection to each other will go. I am totally not a social butterfly who, upon arriving at a party or a social gathering will comfortably hop from one table to another introducing myself, excited to get to know new people. Nope. Not that type. I know it sucks.

I don't know, most of my real real real friends are my friends since first grade. With them I totally feel extremely comfortable and can totally be myself. I can pee in front of them, change in front of them, burp in front of them -- be me when I am with them. Since I had children, I have also sort of taken a step back from looking for more and more groups of friends. I do maintain a healthy social circle of people lets say at work but to actually actively develop as such friendships as possible, it has become a second priority. Besides, I have pretty much loved doing things alone OR with the husband and the kids -- without feeling sorry for myself.

Is that bad?

This may start to sound real petty but I am secretly hoping that things won't be too stressful for me tonight.

Oh, wish me luck.

Oh My 2 Year old...Oh, Oh, Oh

It is (crossing my fingers), I hope, just a phase. Oh yes it is just a phase. Yeah, totally just a phase. I need to convince myself that it is just a phase or else it's going to drive me crazy!

For my 2 year old, it's all about ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And that's about it.

He wants to do everything you do from put deodorant to cut his own nails to put his own socks to cut his own hair (!) to feed himself to go down the stairs alone. He says, "Me! Me! Me!" He refuses any help from anybody and will squirm away from anybody who tries to help him any chance he gets to do so.

And the answers you get to all the questions I ask and answers to my statements are always a big NO!!!!!!

Do you want to eat?
Are you going to be a good boy today?
Can we go inside now?
Can I help you with that?
Can you give me that pair of scissors NOW?!!
Finish your food now.
Let's wash tigger!
Get down from that shelf!

Rain Rain Go Away!

It's been the 5th straight day of non-stop rain. It can make one's mood extremely gloomy, depressed and melancholic. The rain has its way of bringing about chilly winds that extract sentiments hidden in our heart that we would rather not want to expose.

But the rain can do it.

What The Pen Can Do

The son of an Ibaloi woman who belonged to a prominent family and a Japanese overseas worker who came to the Philippines to make a living, Sinai Hamada had big dreams - he went on to become a lawyer while he continued to write his short stories. But his biggest dream may, if I may just presume, came true when on April 28, 1947, the Midland Courier was born.

It was, in his best interest to provide a local newspaper for the city bearing in mind to always be FAIR, FEARLESS, FRIENDLY and FREE.

To quote: (As written by my grandfather when the 1st edition of The Midland was published):

We are born. This we announce humbly. We enter the fourth estate with no misgivings about our mission, believing we have one, or of our destiny, granting we have any. We aim to go somewhere, quite resolutely, but we do not beat our breast saying so.

As in most father and sons, my father Steve, looked up to my grandfather. Although he did try to level up to my grandfather, he just never did because, as one of his friends put it, "Steve tried to climb Mt. Sinai, but instead, he climbed his own mountain."

Sometime after Martial Law was declared, my father decided to give up his struggle with the corporate world and go back to his roots - to do that which he truly loved -- to write. He joined my grandfather and together they wrote for the Midland Courier.

As greed can often consume a person's heart and turn it as black as can be, the Midland Courier was ruthlessly grabbed from my grandfather by his own brother. Thinking he could carry on my grandfather's legacy, he tries his best but to no avail. Today, the paper which was born out of my grandfathers blood, sweat and tears is slowly going to the dogs. One day it will bury itself -- consumed in greed and ulterior motives. Completely forgetting why it was born in the first place. But revenge is not for us -- I believe in that Greater being who will take care of them in His own time.

As part of a family project, my Aunt came up with the wonderful idea of printing all of my Grandfather's column from 1947 - 1987 side by side my father's articles when he joined in the 1970's. Together with my cousin, we will maybe contribute our own ideas and thoughts - the inner most feelings found deep in our hearts to hopefully come out with a wonderful publication.

In the end, they will be vindicated.

This is for you Dad.

Coming Soon

I've got some pretty big news which although I totally want to share right now, will have to wait a bit.

Changing the name of my blog has something to do with it....

How have all of you been doing?