the aughts

2000-2010 is my most important decade so far. it saw me officially becoming an adult. here's how:

1. Got married
2. Had my first child, then second and third
3. Had my first major adult acquisition (a toyota revo)
4. Flipped houses thrice (first in a suburb 2 hours away from MM, then to one nearer by an hour, then to a condo unit in the metro)
5. Moved in to our first house and lot which is likely going to be our longtime family home
6. Got into a true adult financial mess then thankfully got out of it
7. Got the job i wouldn't mind retiring from
8. Kicked some bad habits learned from my riotous teenage years
9 Traded old unproductive beliefs for new personal truths

i love how this decade has shaped my life. i love the experiences it brought me, both the good and the unpleasant ones.

i can honestly say i am happy even with the mistakes i made all these years, because i think i learned from them, and because i feel i made them at the right time and age: when i was old enough to face them with the right perspective and young enough to still have the time, energy and confidence to manage the consequences.

i am thankful for the crises i went through because they have forged my most valued relationships: with myself, my husband, my family and most important with my God.

i am thankful for marriage and parenthood because of the love, sense of belonging, and perspective these gave me. and, if you haven't noticed yet, i am a big fan of Perspective.

i think i know a lot more about love now: how to give it generously, how to receive it gracefully.

i also have found my access to joy and inner peace. i can spot it now in me. i find joy when i am truly grateful for everything life has thrown me. i find peace when i surrender to my God's Love.

thanks to this decade. looking forward to the new one.

the sights (part 4)

Yosemite was my ma's most memorable stop in our road trip. why do you think?

the sights (part 3)

i could live in san francisco. really.

it's not called America's Finest City for nothing (update: oops. apparently, that title belongs to San Diego. but to me, SF deserves it more ;p)

it's beautiful, vibrant, relevant. and it's got this conscious living vibe. plus, it's got everything. i love its rolling hills, the rows of quaint victorian houses, the fog, and the Bridge!

some people who've seen the Golden Gate think there's nothing really spectacular about it, but when i saw it half-covered in fog, i just thought it was the loveliest thing. it looked like it was floating in a sea of clouds, like a gateway to heaven. i couldn't stop taking pictures of it.

if i were given a chance to pick a US city to settle in, it's gotta be SF hands down.

the sights (part 2)

views from my ride's window. nice, aren't they?

the sights (part 1)

seeing all these beautiful landscapes the past two days, i think i know my one word for america: expanse. everything i've seen so far seems so wide and open. and clear.
i thought i knew so much about this country already but when i saw it, it still felt like a total stranger to me. beautiful but empty (could it really be?)
later.

reminiscing rome

my husband liked rome more than paris. must be the warmer weather, ubiquitous pinoys (even our hotel receptionist was pinay), and the almost manila-like chaos which one misses in most parts of Europe. it feels like home indeed, but chicer, with much better views and definitely richer backstory.

and the food!

it's the food i remember the most when i think of this city. pizzerias are like our very own carinderias, turo-turo style. i-turo mo, ititimbang ko. you don't order pizza in small, medium, large. you point the variety you like, show how big you want to take, then the pizza guy cuts and weighs it. you order coke, and munch it in a small table in the corner or standing by the bar. then you listen to the melodic italian chatter of the policemen, the vendor and the other regulars, and it feels like a scene in NYPD blue.

the pizzas in these turo turo taste way much better than the ones offered in our posh italian restos here. but i love the ones by YC and CPK nonetheless, dear darla most especially.

bars refer to the coffee bars, because italians take their coffee seriously. no collectible Starbucks rome city mug for me, because it's utterly pointless to have Starbucks in Rome (and of course they don't have one single branch there). (pardon the two becauses)

romans swarm these coffee bars for their after-lunch espresso fix. italians like it black and bitter. no fancy coffee concoctions here. they drink their milk only in the mornings as lactose is thought to disrupt the digestive process (or something like that).

i think italians are generally minimalist when it comes to their coffee, and even fish dishes*. they want it plain and simple, no fuss, no frills. i remember one jamie oliver show where an old italian guy told jamie to skip the herbs because it will only overpower the natural flavor of the fish.

cold winter nights are no exception for enjoying a scoop or two of gelato. this i realized one night in trastevere where we had our budget-friendly dinner (we left no tip, because we had no euros to spare, and i absolutely regretted it afterwards. one should always honor good service).

St. Peter's Basilica is grandiose and overwhelming with details to the point of vanity. but that's just me. there will always be arguments about reserving the bestest and the most grandiose for God. i should have no problem with that, except that there's so much poverty around that grandiose is so out of context. whatever. i probably have no point here. i probably am just not a fan of grandiose.

the ruins in rome are all beautiful and majestic (even in ruins at that!). but they are reminders of the perversion humanity once glorified, if not enjoyed. proof that beauty and good don't always go together. then again, they are also reminders of humanity's endless capacity for change and continued enlightenment. so that makes these ruins good right? perhaps there's always good in something beautiful.

whatever.

*my picture below says otherwise. but generally, they like it with salt and nothing much else when it comes to grilling fish

kids' q&a

q&a with kids, aged 10, 8, 5:



What the kids want to be/do when they grow up:

Zaki: Write books (but i tell him he still can pursue other things side by side writing)
Yuan: Become kuya zaki's assistant (but, thankfully, he also thinks of becoming either a doctor or soldier)
Zion: Change my name to major zion and have 6 kids: 3 boys and 3 girls

-oOo-

who's the coolest girl in your class:

za: i don't know
yu: i don't know
zi: my teacher has a nice butt

-oOo-

what's the best thing about the palawan trip:

za: underground river
yu: underground river
zi: the van, the boat and the airplane

-----

note to self:
enjoy your kids while they're still uncomplicated and unencumbered. adulthood has a way of making us all serious: seriously funny, or sad, or clueless. we adults tend to become more deliberate, too self conscious, always eager to conform, to belong, to form an identity. in the process we end up losing our authenticity and a clear sense of who we are, which most people only regain past their 50s. (i've obviously been reading Tweetums Gonzalez and Gilda Cordero Fernando).

now i'm starting to sound seriously ruminant.
enough.

reminiscing paris

paris is not best enjoyed in the winter. our trip there was the coldest i endured. still, it's paris. it's beautiful all year long, but i can imagine even more so in summer, when the trees are lush and abloom.

i think my favorite spot in that city was inside Sacre Coeur Basilica. It's the only church so far that made my heart cry. it's so solemn, beautiful, and warm inside. warm, especially. it really felt like a sanctuary, not only for the spirit but the body as well. i wanted to stay there all night and await the breaking of a new day, one less colder.

The church sits on the top of the bohemian district of montmartre, and offers an amazing view of the city and that famous Tower. Inside, there's a large painting of the Sacred Heart, with His arms outstretched, on the ceiling. Those ever kindest eyes stare down lovingly at you, offering mercy and comfort. in my humble opinion, it beats michaelangelo's sistine chapel...

We did not experience the storied snootiness of the parisians. people say they refuse to speak english, but they didn't. they patiently explained to us how to go around when we kinda got lost. (but we just had to point the words in the map because we're not sure how to pronounce them; like the station "Invalides" is pronounced "anvalad"; and "George V" "djorj da sank")

we've always encountered unexpected kindness in all our trips, and paris was no exception. in the subway where there was no escalator, an impeccably dressed white male offered to help marvin carry our luggage down the long stairs even without our asking. and to think marvin looks like one of those jihad guys. we were floored.

so don't believe everything you hear about a place. expect the good things, and make your own opinion.

but believe it when they say paris is a beautiful city, because it really is. and much more.

Good

“There’s always a way to be good again.”

This is one of my favorite lines from The Kite Runner. It may just be a simple, straightforward statement, but to me, it’s a comforting assurance.

I stumble everyday, i find myself caving in to my baser instinct of self-preservation, and along with it self-righteousness and self-promotion. i sometimes let my judgmental nature take over. i recognize it when it happens but i don’t fight it. i watch myself dishing out things i’d later wish i didn’t.

i almost always feel bad about it. i can’t take back things like opinions not meant to be shared, so i self-flagellate mentally. i torture my mind with guilt as penance.

My husband reminds me that it’s all about choices. But you need to frame your choices carefully.

I sometimes frame mine as: (a) rant it out to bust stress (decompress, my friend calls it, or (b) keep it inside and agonize over it alone.

What do you choose? Most often, I choose (a) because it’s rationalized as good for my mental health. Is it, really? because the ensuing self-flagellation is more like a case of the cure being worse than the disease.

What if the choices were really: (a) rant it out and feel worse afterwards when the guild come flooding in, or (b) keep it to yourself because, come on, what good will talking about it do? who cares? and what if your shit comes back to you?

i guess that makes more sense.

so what i’m just trying to say here is, I want to be good. and being good means (among other things) holding my tongue, suspending judgment, and being a bit more understanding.

it will be a struggle. but i hope i never get tired of wanting it.

Photo by Zaki

marvin's garden

bless your soil with your own toil. my husband subscribes to this, so not once did he entertain the idea of getting a professional do our landscaping (not that we have the budget for it).
i secretly dreaded the thought of amateurs doing my yard. but now i'm actually liking the results of his toil.
it's not pretty, it looks wild, but it's got character. when budget's an issue, and you can't afford pretty, you can always settle for character. scratch that. i say i'll take character over pretty anytime.

A Parent's Prayer

Around the last week of August every year, my kids' school celebrates Parents' Day to "recognize and promote parenting as a central vocation for our families and communities". I find it one of the more poignant occasions in school as the kids pay simple but meaningful tribute to their "angels on earth".

I'm sharing here one of the prayers featured in this year's celebration. I have no idea who wrote this, but it's good. Like a mantra only longer, it captures my essential parenting philosophies.

A Parent's Prayer

Help me give my children the best...not of trappings or toys, but of myself, cherishing them on good days and bad, theirs and mine.

Teach me to accept them for who they are, not for what they do; to listen to what they say, if only so they will listen to me; to encourage their goals, not mine; and please, let me laugh with them and be silly.

Let me give them a home where respect is the cornerstone, integrity the foundation, and there is enough happiness to raise the roof. May I give them the courage to be true to themselves; the independence to take care of themselves and the faith to believe in a power much greater than their own.

Let me see to it that I discipline my children without demeaning them, demand good manners without forgetting my own and let them know they have limitless love, no matter what they do.

Let me feed them properly, clothe them adequately, and have enough to give them small allowances...not for the work they do but the pleasure they bring. And let me be moderate in all these things, so the joy of getting will help them discover the joy of giving.

Let me see to it that their responsibilities are real but not burdensome, that my expectations are high but not overwhelming and that my thanks and praise are thoughtful and given when they're due.

Help me teach them that excellence is work's real reward, and not the glory it brings. But when it comes, and it will, let me revel in each honor, however small, without once pretending that it's mine; my children are glories enough.

Above all, let me ground these children so well that I can dare to let them go. And may they be so blessed.

-oOo-
update: i had to change the photo above because my eldest found the first one a bit repulsive and tantamount to abuse (they were on their back, soaking wet from playing with water hose). such heightened sense of propriety and empowerment

Around the 'hood

i think this place is growing on me. the highway-wide streets are just so inviting for biking and walking. Unlike in our old place where we still had to load our bikes in the car and bring it somewhere else (mostly to the mental hospital compound), here the kids just bike straight into the street from the garage.

at the end of our street, we have a park which gets lively in the mornings with people doing their cardio. the regulars have formed some kind of a club and they take turns bringing breakfast for the group. i think that's a nice way to start the day (cardio, groupfast and all), though probably not everyday. it's nice to have long lazy mornings once in a while, just curled up in bed with a light book or watching Travel and Living. (i do have major sloth fantasies).

there's also a mini-golf area, but i believe it's privately owned by the residents in front. they do some swings and have coffee there, and greet the passersby a chirpy good morning.

and then we really have a good morning.

yeah, i think i like this place.