Existential Thoughts

A friend had blogged recently about existentialism. Actually, he was asked if he was an existentialist. He replied that it would be interesting if life really was what we make of it.

And, like so many other things that do, the subject reminded me of Laila. This time, about Laila's fascination with death. Everything lying motionless on the ground is patay. And she says this with a twinkle in her eyes and accompanied with a thumping 'duuhhg' like how I imagine the sound a corpse would make as it hit the pavement.

During a walk she asked me why leaves were lying on the ground instead of being up in the tree and why the leaves on the ground are brown. I explained to her that those were old leaves and they fall off to give space for young leaves to grow.

Much like where we are now. People die to give space for the next generation.

And then that thought reminded me of an email I received; copies of notes written by young children to God. One kid there told God that instead of letting people die, He should just keep the ones He has so He wouldn't have to create new ones every so often. So deep for someone so young, huh.

A corollary idea to this would be man's fixation over the afterlife, of reincarnation. There are those who feel that being here, now wouldn't account for much if we simply cease to be after we die. Immortality. Even if being immortal means leaving behind one's corporeal body and moving on as a spirit, a form of energy or what have you. Or if it means being reborn as another person or perhaps a snail or algae depending on what you've done with the life you previously lived.

Living on after death is a sweet thought. But living the life I have now is already sweet for me.

P.S. For those those who emerged from philosophy class in college with only a little more knowledge than what they had on the first day of school:

Existentialism is a philosophical movement teaching that individual people create and determine the meaning and essence of their lives, that human beings are free--i.e. not controlled by fate--and responsible for their actions.

In-bedded Weekend

The three-day weekend was wonderful.

I had fun the Saturday when Laila danced uninhibitedly in her school UN Day program and went trick-or-treating in the afternoon. Sunday was more relaxed with a later afternoon Trinoma stroll and an early evening drive around UP.

But barangay election day Monday was the best. We slept in late and then blew bubbles till my I was without breath. Lunch was nooldes, which Laila ate up like she never ate noodles in her life before.

Then we laid out the sofa bed in the sala and watched horror movies in a cuddle until Baby Cat fell asleep. We basically stayed in bed the entire afternoon, playing there and watching TV at the same time. I pried myself from away only long enough to cook nilagang buto-buto for dinner and then it was off to bed again after that.

We could hear the rain thumping outside; perfect cuddle weather, perfect for hot soup.

The day would have been perfect-perfect had I not needed to do a quick check on a murder story, but it wasn't too tiring. Laila and I were in bed again by 8:30 pm.

Days like this is what I ache for.

Trick or Treat!

Laila went on her first Trick or Treat sortie last weekend. It was a blast. She slept through a good deal through the pre-trick-or-treat show so she was up and alert when we went around the shops in Shangri-La mall.

It was a good haul, if you ask me. A big bagfull of goodies that I promptly stashed to give away to Kuya Utoy and Kuya Austin as presents. She's still not allowed to have candy. But the other treats I let her keep--the orange Winx thro pillow, pencils and small notebooks and other stuff that won't ruin her precious teeth.

As I mentioned earlier, Baby Cat went as Wonder Woman. There were lots of faiies and princesses and vampires and witches, but only Laila and another, much older kid went as Wonder Woman.

Needless to say, she received lots of Ooooh-how-cute! and Aaaaaw-Wonder-Woman! from the other parents there. Several shop managers giving away the treats even took photographs with Wonder Laila. She was game through it all, stretching her arms and running around as if she was flying. Thank goodness she had a good nap.

Much of the other Justice Leaguers were there. How I wish I could round them up and have Wonder Laila photographed with Batman, Supergirl and the other super heroes. But they were all too fast to catch in one frame.

One little tyke Laila took a fancy to was the Picachu boy in front of us in the trick or treat queu. Laila had a blast gently touching him by the tail. And when we would get left behind in one shop, she'd yell 'Hey Picachu! Wait fer me!' Too bad the camera was low on battery and we didn't get Baby Cat's picture taken with her beloved Picachu. Pica! Pica!

I'm definitely looking forward to next year.

Early Education

I was talking with Laila's Ninang Bev earlier about preschool. Seven-month old Wilby would be old enough to attend school next year, you see, and she wants a good argument to tell the hubby.


Well, I am an avid fan of early education so she only needed to start the topic.


Preschool, I believe, is a very good avenue for older babies--especially the onlies--to socialize. They learn valuable life skills in being in a controlled environment away from home. They learn to follow rules and to get along with other kids.



An additional treat is that they are taught skills--everyday things like holding a crayon or pen or cutting paper with scissors--that parents untrained in preschool education would not consciously think to teach their kids.


In a conference with Laila's teacher last year, I was surprised to learn that she is able to manipulate a pair of scissors. I don't even let her hold one at home. These activities, like tearing bits of paper or pasting, helps them hone fine motor skills.


Other class exercises like playing in the jungle bars or scooping pebbles and tranferring them from one bucket to another helps develop gross motor skills. And to think we even discourage her from running or jumping for fear that she'd fall and crack her head open.


By the end of the first year Laila knows her colors, shapes, number and is famliar with most of the alphabet. This year, she is able to recognize individual letters in words and type them in the computer.


She also has an enormous vocabulary for her age. This I recognize because she's never been into a screaming or crying fit as a result of not having the words to express her feelings. She has words to express most of what she says. Or she expresses her disapproval with a booming NO!



Of course, you have to choose the right preschool for your child. Preschools are generally playschools, although they can still be classified into three pedagogies--traditional, progressive and Montessori. I don't think a preschool that requires the kids to sit still in their chairs for long periods of time will be good for any kid. Toddlers and preschoolers are generally very active and they need a lot of different activities so they wouldn't get bored.


Laila's bloomed in a progressive school (Nest) and in a Montessori (Mayfield) but I would like to have her try a traditional (preferrably Francsican-run) school when she reaches elementary. I spent 11 years in a Franciscan school, Stella Maris College. There I learned values that rules the adult me--integrity, honesty, simplicity and, most importantly, being frugal.




I don't believe that kids will get tired of school when you start them too early. I started school when I was three. I admit there were points during school that I was counting the years until I finish. But I don't think I really got tired of going to school. If you enjoy what you're doing, why stop.


I guess what I want is for Laila to enjoy school. More importantly, I want her to enjoy the experience the joys of learning. You don't stop learning once you step out of school. I want school to help her enjoy the experience so she'll want to learn wherever she is.

Halloween Treat

Laila's going trick-or-treating for the first time this year. As always, I'm more excited than she is.

She'll be Wonder Woman. And boy what a wonder this little woman is. She knew exactly who she wanted to be.

I offered her several costumes from princesses to fairies. But she wants Wonder Woman. Fine by me.

Initially she wanted to be a vampire. But she changed her mind after seeing one-too-many of Daddy Cat's Justice League toys and videos. In hindsight, it was perfect that she did.

She's adorable as Wonder Woman. Her delighful belly protrudes as much as her chubby hiney. Her sweet scrumptious thighs make my mouth water; I just want to sick my teeth into them and take a couple of good bites. She's got a full figure just like Mommy Cat, what can I say.

Weekend Bliss

Three-day weekends are always heavenly.

On Friday we lunched out and went briefly to Trinoma. The following day we checked out a possible new home and then to Market! Market! where Laila romped around the playground and drove around in a pink kiddie car (the type she's been asking us to buy). On Sunday we had icecream after mass, splashed in her pool, napped and then jogged around the QC Memorial Circle where she displayed the daredevil in her by climbing up the big kids' gym. (She nearly gave me aheart attack there but that would be the subject of another entry.)

I also got to cook. I love cooking but it's a pleasure I get to enjoy only rarely. There was liver steak, burgers, mashed potato and (let me stress) homemade, fresh-from-scratch gravy, vegetables sauteed in butter, fresh vegetable lumpia, pansit canton and champorado spread over the weekend. Laila and I also had cotton candy from th epar and icecream after church.

Baby Cat was so worn out from the daytime activities she didn't have any trouble sleeping at night.

But I did. A bit. I was also tired from the happenings and would fall asleep alongside Laila. But the minutes before I doze off, I would think that I'd like to spend more days like this. I didn't think about the world's problems. I didn't worry about all the anomalies going down.

My concern was Laila and nothing else.

I don't want to rationalize so I'd end this entry here. I know all the counter-arguments to all those sentimental thoughts. I just don't want to think of them right now.

Keeping up with the Joneses

When Laila was born I was determined to raise her as a down to earth, prudent, fair, thrifty individual.

I think i'm succeeding in most areas. Except that I have my own faults as well.

For months I've been thinking of getting her one of those kiddie motorbikes that runs on batteries (read: expensive) and nearly succeeded in giving her one as a gift for her third birthday.

But Daddy Cat talked me out of it. He says it's excessive to give a preschooler a five-thousand peso gift that she'd outgrow before the rubber tires wear out.

My rational mind agrees with him but the irrational part of my brain still pines for that lovely pink motorbike. Why should the kids in posh Urdaneta have one while my Baby Cat doesn't?

And then the neighbor bought a kiddie car for his year-old son.

Admittedly, I get envious of particular individuals over a number of things. The Journal of Personality and Social Psychology defines envy is an emotion that 'occurs when a person lacks another’s superior quality, achievement, or possession and desires it.' It's a perfectly normal reaction among creatures with a brain at the level of development as ours.

Envy drives me to work harder to achieve whatever it is I envy. I fancy myself as a level-headed cavegirl that pursues rational pursuits.

Baby Cat hasn't gotten to my cavegirl level of sophistication in terms of dealing with envy. Her uncle reported that this morning she tried to forcibly borrow the car from the younger boy, who we all lovingly call Baby Brother. The Ates are around, of course, and there was no bloodshed.

But I'm afraid there were tears. From Baby Cat.

And it breaks my heart.

But an overly expensive toy is too vulgar, I am convinced. There are millions of kids who are malnourished and have nothing to eat but water, rice and salt. How can we spend thousands of pesos for a toy she will eventually outgrow.

That's what the rational me sternly believes. The irrational me wants to buy her the damn motorbike.

Back to School

It's Laila's second day back in school after a weeklong sojourn.

She's been crying again but I know she'll get back into groove. She just got used to not going to school and has to get used to being left there for two hours daily. Laila loves school and proudly shows me the art projects they make.

It's always 'Look Mummy I made this for you' whether it's a writing activity or a pictures she colored.

She has stories about what went on that day and something about her classmates. And she always tells me she played with Vawewie (Valerie). She repeatedly tells me that Blue pushed her and when I ask her what she should tell Blue, she pipes in with a song-song voice: "No pushing!'

And my biggest indicator that she's enjoying school is that she smiles at me and Daddy Cat when the tricycle picks her up. She knows the tricycle will take her to school and she looks like she's looking forward to it.

Healthy

Laila's blood tests are out. Everything's normal. I'm so relieved I'm smiling to myself!

I'd been worried that she has dengue or some other incurable and fatal disease. I was shackled with this morbid thought the whole day, dragging it around as I went about my business like everything was normal.

And now that the pedia gave her a clean bill of health, the weight has been lifted off me.

But I know I won't be fully rid of this nagging fear for Laila's health, her safety, her well-being. I think that goes with the territory when you're a Mom.

I now understand what they mean when they say that children never grow up in the eyes of their parents. Adults will always be little kids to the eyes of their parents. Laila will always be my little girl.

I also admit that I might be a trifle bit more inclined to worry than other parents. That's something Laila and I will have to live and cope with. I hope I don't annoy her too much when she grows up.

Canker Sores

I think what Laila has are canker sores. Her pedia mentioned a different, more ominous name but I am guessing that's the medical term for her sores.

A quick search in Wikipedia proved informative. Here it is:

"An aphthous ulcer or canker sore is a type of mouth ulcer which presents as a painful open sore inside the mouth, caused by a break in the mucous membrane. The condition is also known as aphthous stomatitis, and alternatively as "Sutton's Disease," especially in the case of multiple or recurring ulcers.

The term aphtha means ulcer; it has been used for many years to describe areas of ulceration on mucous membranes. Aphthous stomatitis is a condition which is characterized by recurrent discrete areas of ulceration which are almost always painful. Recurrent aphthous stomatitis (RAS) can be distinguished from other diseases with similar-appearing oral lesions, such as certain viral exanthems, by their tendency to recur, and their multiplicity and chronicity. Recurrent aphthous stomatitis is one of the most common oral conditions. At least 10% of the population suffers from it. Women are more often affected than men. About 30–40% of patients with recurrent aphthae report a family history."

Apparently the virus burrows deep into the body and comes back out through the same vein it used so that the sores appear in the same spot every time. It's caused by a virus but anything--like accidental bites or Vitamin B12 deficiency-- can awaken the hybernating villain.

At least I know Laila is not afflicted by some life-threatening disease. But I am mollified only slightly.

I am afraid that she might have some other fatal condition. Apart from her low low-grade fever and bouts of throwing up (which happens right after she takes her paracetamol), there is no reason to worry that she has anything more than the sores. But I still worry.

There was a five-year old pupil in my neighbor's school who passed away recently. From dengue. The kid's had fever for several days and then the fever went away. A day or two later the kid started vomiting blood. Then she passed away.

It's a sad sad story that is more scary than all the Freddy Kreuger movies put together.

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Daddy Cat will bring her back to the pedia this afternoon for some blood tests. For my peace of mind.

SHM for a Day

The upside of Laila being sick is that I get to stay home with her. I hope that I could stay home with her for less worrying reasons, but when life gives you lemons...

So I stayed home yesterday. And of course that means speacial Mommy Cat and Baby Cat time. We had lunch with Daddy Cat and did a little shopping afterwards. We went home and took a long nap. After that we watched some TV and played.

It was raining outside and it was the perfect weather to stay home and goof around. Laila was sick but otherwise she was her normal self. Active, friendly, easy to laugh and witty.

She saw the big photograph of buddhist monks in their burgundy robes marching in a street in Yangon. She asked what the pictue was about. I told her they are monks from Myanmar. And of course she couldn't understand what I was explaning. She looked me in the eye as if to make sure she heard me correctly.

'Monk? Monkey? Marimar?' she asked. And I couldn't help but chuckle. I tried explaining some more about the monks and Myanmar, but then gave up. She seemed pretty content about monkey and Marimar anyway. I can live with that.

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These prolonged daily interactions are what I miss because I work outside the home. But I know I have to work because otherwise we wouldn't be as comfortable as we are. It's a tough trade-off but almost a no-brainer.

I'd like to think sometimes that helping the family finances is the primary reason why I work. But it isn't.

I want Laila to grow up knowing that girls can be whatever they want and do not have to fit into a predefined role designated by society. And I think I can only truly teach her that if I continue doing what I've always wanted to do--be a journalist.

I can take on a less demanding job, but that wouldn't be where my passion lies. And I'd like to teach Laila to follow her own (healthy) passions. My girl will be the person she wants to be. I'll work on that.

Down with Sores

Laila's had a fever since the weekend. Apparently, she's got these viral mouth sores, the same that she got a year ago.

The first time she had them Baby Cat had to be hospitalized just to make sure she doesn't get dehydrated. She was a lot younger then and, I guess, more intolerant of pain. She didn't want to take anything. No milk, no water, no soup, no nothing.

This photo was taken on our last day in hospital. Her first solid food in almost a week. What made it sweeter for me was that she asked for the sandwich herself.

This time around she takes soup and dede, which is as good as a full meal because the milk is high in protein and other nutrients we preschoolers just don't get from regular meals.

But her temperature shot to 39.4 and wouldn't respond to paracetamol. Her pedia told me to give her a higher dosage and that seemed to have done the trick.

She's doing much better now, but she still might have to get her blood tested if the fever doesn't go away totally by tomorrow or Thursday. I don't want to risk the possibility that the fever is caused by another ailment. The blood test will rule out dengue and other diseases.

I don't get it. Laila gets sick as if I don't take care of her enough.

On the way home from a visit to Lola's house in Batangas, we passed by a homeless family who's shack was a pushcart. The kids shouldn't be any older than 6 years old and the youngest was in his birthday suit under the drizzle. And they all seem perfectly well. And by 'well' I mean they do not look like they're suffering from an illness.

Why?! All those germs and bacteria they get from living in the streets and the heavily leaded air they breathe and they're not sick! And here's Baby Cat--taking daily vitamin C and multivitamins, trained to wash her hands several times a day, cover her mouth when she sneezes or coughs, use utensil when eating, wash her pepe after peeing and everything else that would protect her from ingesting more germs than what's minimum--who's got sores in her mouth caused by a virus.

I just don't get it. It's like I still don't do enough to keep her healthy.