A message for Princess Peach

My little sweet daughter, hope you won’t grow so fast though I secretly wish sometimes you were the age when I can …

Bring you to a beauty salon with me where we can both pass time in idle chat while getting our toenails painted in bright purple though I’m quite sure you’ll prefer yours in green. I will always remember when I first brought you to such fancy place for your first haircut, I found you too cute for the haircutting chair. Sitting side by site together, you were too scared to let go of my hand while the hairdresser cut your hair short like mine. I just felt so content holding your hand that I froze that picture in my mind and wish again for you not to grow up fast.

Tag you in the mall and shop till we both drop from exhaustion literally. I admit that shopping for clothes is a waterloo (though I can score at shoe-shopping) and I’d love someone who would give sensible fashion advice. I wish you’d forgive your Mom for lacking these skills as I grew up with brothers in a mostly boys populated neighborhood. I did not get the chance to play dress-up nor had the privilege of a fashion magazine subscription. Just like the boys, I rode and fell from biking races under the 2 o'clock summer sun which makes me wonder why I tend to be upset when I come home from work and see your knee or leg get scraped a bit. I would even reprimand your Yaya for not being able to prevent it and be adamant about you wearing pjs in the afternoon to prevent insect bites and scratches from rough play.

Spend plenty of time with you in one of my favorite places in the country--- where else but Fully Booked -- we could let hours go by while browsing and having a hard time choosing, prioritizing which books to buy, authors to love, like, drop and love again. I hope you’d share my love for Gibran’s prose, Allende’s magic realism and Grisham’s legal thrillers while I look forward to hear about your favorites and choices. And also share my liking for paperproducts, those dainty notebooks and journals and bother to care for things like “Does its pages have the right level of smoothness to give the proper gliding effect when you write?” See your Mom is just as quirky as you are when I observed that you preferred writing using my colored gel pens over you jumbo pencil, no matter if it requires your tiny hand double effort to steady your grip.

Dear baby daughter though I wish for these things, my prayer remains the same that you won't grow too fast. Please let me enjoy it a little bit more.

Photo source: Nitendo

Silver and Platinum

DB squinted through the heavily tinted window of the Mercedes which was parked in front of the Shrine, trying hard to get a glimpse of the girl in off-white gown inside. Fed up of the futile exercise, he walks off and looks around for familiar faces. Guests with smiling faces composed of family, relatives and friends were sprinkled here and there around the church. He bumps into their friend Bumblebee and he solicits for a cigarette to overcome the nervousness that was creeping inside as he felt the need to barf.

GM sat motionless rather than poised inside the car. She felt nothing of the knotted stomach, it was empty but she felt no hunger, only a long blank, and no fluttering butterflies inside. She touches her neck and suddenly feels worried; she forgot to wear the necklace her mother had given her as a wedding present.

DB looks at GM intently and takes her hand. He nervously puts the platinum bond on GM’s left ring finger. GM looks at him and recognizes that this person is indeed that one that brings calm to her turbulent nature. She traces his face and feels quite proud and wishes hard that their future children would inherit DB’s sovereign nose. She smiles some more as she sees DB’s hand, he still wore the old silver on his left ring finger, the one they used to sport as a new couple and he never took it off. And so his wedding ring was placed next to it. She then whispers to herself, “This is the best day of my life!”

Happy 7 years Bee! Thank you and I love you!

vivi, ama e ridi,

Welcome to the Tango House

In my quest to further the breadth of my writing, I am getting my hands on new material which I believe would be engaging but not to the point of becoming syrupy in contrast to the sober pinch of Purple Scribbling. I have started my another dot in the blogosphere "Tales from the Tango House" which aims to capture the happy, exciting, challenging, intriguing and occasional drama of family life, motherhood and everything in between.

Tango House chronicles the lives of DB, GM, Sharkboy and Baby Diva, pay them a visit here!

Active dot in the blogosphere

Okay I’ve moved on. I’m done grieving for Pres. Cory’s passing from this world but of course the inspiration she has stirred among us lingers. Her death affected multitudes and I’ve never felt my Pinoy blood flood my consciousness as vigorous as the way it did while witnessing the outpouring of love and respect for an icon of democracy. I hope these emotions would be translated into concrete manifestations of our love for our country’s gift of democracy. I hope that we would all take the responsibility of keeping it unscathed and protected.

What does it mean to be Filipino?

I came across this question while visiting Inquirer.net and got pique as usual. Now I can’t resist to giving my answer though Gigo Alampay encourages its readers to analyze more the above question rather than provide a response to it.

Being Filipino is relative to each person, we are all entitled to our own definition based on unique circumstance, orientation and upbringing but one thing stands similar for all of us, we give premium to values that relate to family and hardwork.

I define being Filipino as a way of life, a daily conscious decision each one of us makes. I see it as more than a mindset and a culture, as well as the feelings of pride we derive from it. It is the everyday struggle we put up to keep our spirit and integrity as a Filipino in this global community.

So what sets us apart from the others, it’s our simple attribute which is our "love of family". Our family orientation goes beyond kin and friends, it may even extend to complete strangers. I observed in everyday hubbub, we still take time to pause and look for ways to help other people.

I remember an incident in SM Makati’s foodcourt when a group of old ladies occupied a table nearby our table during lunch. As the women were busy taking their places, one of them carrying a tray of beverages accidentally spilled all of it on their table. They were unsettled and embarrassed of such clumsiness that resulted to a dining disaster but the crowd around them reacted differently. My friends and I gave them our tissue papers to wipe off the dripping mess while people in the other table called for the roving utility to clean it up. A nearby customer even took the extra mile to request a replacement of the spilled drinks. This is what I love about being Pinoy, we love to dip our fingers on other people’s problems. I mean I’m saying this in a good light, the presence of interest is a lot better than indifference in this case. Further, I would like to answer the question, “Why did we help them?” Well most of us (me and friends) remarked that these women reminded us of our beloved “lolas” (grannies).

We Filipinos are known to be self-giving. We believe in hard toil and its rewards. We work in foreign shores to give our families financial security. We take care of our aging parents and grandparents. We look after our siblings. We treat our friends like family. We approach other people in a more personal way. We are into each other’s dealings. Who doesn’t have an officemate who inquires about how your kids are doing and discusses “have you got a replacement to your delinquent yaya” topic? We ask personal questions that foreigners often find intrusive though the intention was to get to know them more. We build rapport through knowing one’s family. In our village, isn’t it that we will always be the daughter or son of their “kumpare” or “kumare”. So how about you, what makes you Filipino?

“Hoy Pinoy ako, Buo aking loob
May agimat ang dugo ko!” -Bamboo

Wishful Thinking

So I am 10 minutes in the waiting - my eyes begun to wander away from the distance where I suppose the object of my waiting would appear. With much conscious effort, I surveyed my surroundings upon discarding my indifferent self, I felt a sense of connection with the people passing by in that street corner in Sta Ana where I planted myself like a shrub.

The sunglasses came in handy, they gave me free room and ample angle to discreetly observe people, take note, not ogle them. I see an old man carrying 3 bags of clothing (I assume) while holding a brown paper envelop which from the way he held it must have taken great effort from his gnarled hands not to have it creased. Meanwhile a woman, who just stood nearby huffed and puffed her cigar like there was no tomorrow, she must have a pair of mighty and happy lungs.

Still the happiest sight of the moment goes to a number of Mommy-baby pairs who come passing by. I counted several pairs of them: taking a stroll, stopping at the fruit cart, crossing the street and emerging from the Jollibee store with a Kiddie meal take out. One common denominator was the cheery aura, as if both were caught in their own little bubble and the rest of the world do not exist. I felt envious.

I wish I have the same privilege of staying home with my kids. I could just do blogging for a living like Anton of AOP and I would be available to my kids anytime. I would fix my schedule around them so I could be the one preparing their breakfast, giving baths as often as they want in a day, driving them to school and putting them to sleep in the afternoon. We could watch their favorite movies a hundred times over and eat their favorite cookies and chocolates until our tummies ache and read and re-read their favorite stories and talk and talk without the worry that it’s past their bedtime because you can do it during the day. Sounds perfectly simple, but it is not simple.

How I wish it would be easy for me to shift into the low gear. I remembered seeking Hubby’s opinion on home-schooling our kids; he said he’ll give it a careful thought. But then again, am I prepared to once again fold the career plan and store it behind the kitchen counter until both my children are independent enough to go to school?

I am also thinking it over.

Acknowledgements to the following image sources:

www.site.blissliving.com

www.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/4991399

Our Church and Baby Project

Today is Dec 3, 2008, a Wednesday. That same day, also a Wednesday, 5 years ago at exactly 3PM, Braveheart and I took the promise to have and to hold at the Shrine of Jesus, the Way, the Truth, and the Life in Pasay City.

Our church, the Shrine, used to be a solitary and majestic structure set in the reclamation area in 2003 with the beautiful Manila Bay sunset for added drama. Now the Shrine is teeming with faithful patrons and guests from the bustling central business park particularly visitors from MOA (Mall of Asia). Well it’s been 5 years and urban develop in the area is unstoppable. I just miss the serenity of the Shrine during its early years. Nevertheless it will remain a significant landmark in my life.

It’s been the 5 best years of my life with Braveheart. It’s not an everyday rosy affair but the bumpy rides were worth it for we learn to love and appreciate each other in a more profound way, idiosyncrasies included.

And yes, we are having a new baby. Our baby project will soon be unveiled by January 2009 and I wish my readers (yes I have a handful) to continue their hits in my blogs. Braveheart already secured a space in the web for this new baby. Details will follow after hard work and I am keeping my fingers crossed, may our interest and diligence put us through. This is more than a product of our hubby-wifey partnership; it is a culmination of our talents and ideas.

I’m so excited.

A Fix of Nostalgia

Mamma Mia! I never do this but today I am. I am endorsing Mamma Mia here in my blog. Surely anybody in our BD circle would go on commenting like, “What’s gotten into her brain?” Aha! To quash any of your skeptic bits, this piece was borne out of sheer rave and honesty.

Last Friday, hubby surprised me with a call, telling me that he was driving near my office to pick me up for dinner. At exactly 6:45 pm, it was timing that our BD meeting has ended, I bid goodbye to these fantastic people, the BD team, my comrades, and rush to my uncomplaining date.

Five minutes later, hubby and I were discussing which movie would be perfect for the unplanned date. We were torn between Dark Knight (DK) and Mamma Mia (MM). My reason for wanting to watch DK is buoyed by the good feedback I’ve gathered on Heath Ledger’s re-invention of his Joker character in contrast to the mix reviews I’ve read on MM. A minute more, the ABBA music-pumped movie got our vote and we finally purchased tickets and marched toward Cinema 1 with our food and iced tea supply.

The Verdict…

It was a well done choice. MM truly bring memories of nostalgia, it’s a movie on great love, well Donna (character played by Meryl Streep) had 3, tough mother-daughter bonding, finding true love and pursuing independence which had an effect on me. Well speaking from experience, I couldn’t help but reminisce my own heartfelt dialogue with Mother the early morning I woke up on my wedding day five years ago, as Meryl Streep rendered her version of “Slipping through my Fingers.” I also asked myself, “What if it would be my turn to see my Ysa through …”, I shall pray hard that a true gentleman, as awesome as hubby, would be the Man and only then would I feel confident to do so.

The Abba songs were adorably delivered and its music genre perfect for this movie shot in the picturesque Skopelos Greek Island. There is a sentimental force that ABBA binds its followers with, listening to their songs seem to turn back time and make me recall with fondness the 80’s when Dad and Mom were a young couple with 3 little children in tow.

Mamma Mia the movie is good. See it yourself and get ready to be humming ABBA songs for a week or two.

Rain-sealed Memories

Whenever it rains, good memories leak out of my head as follows:

The Nest

Sounds mundane but sleeping in my parent’s bedroom on cold and stormy nights is a well-cherished family moment for me. Whenever a strong typhoon comes to town, my mother gathers her children to sleep in the master’s bedroom. I did not mind sleeping on a mat on the floor while the youngest got the extra bed as long as I have the whole family with me. Mama might just be responding to her nesting instinct but it sure left a mark on me. Now I have a family of my own and live miles away from them, nevertheless the binding assurance produced by a strong parental presence remains.

The Rain Shower

Whenever it rains, I remember my grandmother assume her playful side contrary to the disciplinarian mode she is known for. She allows me and my cousins to go out and play in the rain. Thank God for this process called precipitation! Fresh water droplets falling from the clouds like there was no tomorrow. I consider it the best child-recreational experience for all time.

The Bobbsey Twins

Here’s a geeky confession: I and my grade school best friend once shared a little crime in school when we discovered and hoarded a box of Laura Lee Hope’s children’s novel series “The Bobbsey Twins.” The sight of a big dusty box containing hardbound Bobbsey twins books, abandoned in the bowels of our school’s antiquated library made us feel like millionaires. With great excitement, we inspected our loot like we never held or seen a book before. I remember the dusty smell and yellowing pages yearning to be read. We felt sorry for Bert, Nan, Freddie and Flossie since the borrower’s card of most indicated only 1 or 2 readers while the rest were never opened. We speculated the unpopularity of the series lead to its lonely state in the dark little corner where we found it.

We kept those books until we read each and every piece of it and even re-read our favorites to our heart’s content. While we were in the thick of the “Bobbsey Twins reading marathon,” we both sported large eyebags in school and had a contented grin plastered on our faces. I fondly recall reading most of these detective series during cold rainy evenings. Sad though, these books were only for reading and not for keeping.

The Second Home

I stayed with my grandmother for 6 years, thus, it never occurred to me to get homesick when I entered college. I felt so sure I could handle it, from the long travel to "claiming my space" in the dormitory alone- I got it done. After a month of parentless bliss, the sense that you are indeed alone in a strange place begun to manifest into sullenness. Tired of sulking, I embraced my independence which opened my eyes to the beautiful possibilities that my second home has to offer. I love UPLB. It is sprawling home to majestic trees, endemic plants and flowers, impressive architecture and freethinkers. It is most beautiful after the rain. It has done more than just clothe me with knowledge and ideals, it contributed a lot to what a person I am today.

The Friendliest Office

I never had great set of friends as the ones I’ve met and kept during my first job stint for a lady senator. These wonderful friends (who need not be named) are the “bestest”. We all together went through the pains, freshly-pluck-from-college idealists, have to endure as soon as we set foot into the jungle. It was much easier experiencing life’s biting realities when you’ve got company. I’m glad I had them. Most unforgettable deed was touring all floors of the building, we were headquartered at the 5th floor, during an extended power interruption with the hard rain sloshing outside and inside. With the carpets soaked in water and the building in the dark, we felt trapped but happy. We even wished for the massive structure to be swallowed by the sea since it stood by Manila Bay so there would be - No more papers! No more work! No more bosses and dirty looks!

The Sign

I am not superstitious but I have my way of reading hints. This happened during my first semester at graduate school. It was a bad case of a sudden rainy afternoon. My class ended and I waited for some time and still the rain has forgotten to stop. My boyfriend called me up, informing me that he will get me home because Manila was getting flooded. The rain was unbelievable, it got stronger as it poured more. I called my boyfriend back so we could meet someplace else outside the campus. I made my way to our meeting place where I waited again. It was already late in the evening, I was becoming impatient, worried and hungry. I couldn’t touch the food I ordered, normally it would take 45 minutes to get from his office to our meeting place during traffic. I prayed for the rain to calm down and for him to arrive safely. After a minute of deep thought I unconsciously turned my head to the right and saw him in a corner frantically waving at me in the crowd. I saw him drenched all over. I went out of the store to meet him and he recounted his series of unfortunate events just to get to me. I married him 3 years later.

Acknowledgements:

University of the Philippines Los Banos (UPLB) Photo, compliments of Mr. Gino T. Manalastas; www.manalastas.net

The Bobbsey Twins’ The Secret at the Seashore, http://the-forum.com

Isis bella

January 2007 - You arrived in this world in a hurry. Unlike your brother where the waiting seems no end, you came in a dash. For 39 weeks, you were nestled in my womb and only in an hour you were tossed into this world that is all foreign to your senses.

You are beautiful. You have your father’s countenance especially his sovereign nose. The amazing part is that you are mine. And what’s more amazing than that… - I am taking you home!

Keith - child of Gaea

August 2004 - I will never forget the day you came to me, etched in my memory permanently that I can even feel the way you stirred my heart, misted my eyes and almost stopping my breath…you are a perfect gift from heaven.

You were bundled round in blue, your eyes closed in serene slumber… your cheeks soft pink….you are so perfect. From that moment, I understood why life is so good and so beautiful. I am blessed for the Lord has chosen me to be your mother.

Braveheart

“When two people are at one in their inmost hearts,

they shatter even the strength of iron or bronze.”

“Ricky you are the most caring, generous and strongest person I know. I love you for your braveness for you are always prepared to take me on and all that goes with me. I am proud to be your wife. I know that this is just the beginning of a challenging and rewarding life together, and I truly believe that we could make it. I look forward to growing old and spending my whole life with you. I love you very much.”

*portion of wedding speech