Magaling na o!

Baby Cat slipped and fell flat on her tummy last night. She bruised her chin slightly and had small cuts just below her left eye.

It was a minor accident as minor accidents go, but it was her first. I don't remember her ever getting bruised that 'badly' before.

And she didn't know how to handle it. She was fine until she looked in the mirror and saw those small scratches on her face.

Earlier, we joked that Tita would now have to put medicine on her bruise. She knows how brutal Tita is when it comes to putting medicine on a wound or a scrape or on just about anything. And that thought drove her into despair when she sow how 'serious' her injuries were.

Baby Cat cradled her left cheek in her hand while we were in bed, mumbling 'Oh no, oh no...' to herself until she fell asleep.

Laila was hopeful when she got up this morning, because the pink scratches were, by now, deep red crusts.

'Magaling na o!' she declared, confident that she will not be subjected to Tita-the-ogre-nurse.

Mommy Blues

What I love about long weekends is it gives me time to be with Laila. But that it also what makes the end of a three-day weekends particularly heart-breaking for me and Baby Cat.

This morning, as I prepared for work, Laila protested. As she does after a weekend of having Mommy Cat to herself with no office work to compete with.

I tried to explain to her that Mommy needs to work so I can buy her toys and books. But still she protested.

'I have toys and books already. Mommy, stay home,' she pleaded.

Ouch.

These are times when I question the need for me to work outside the house. I know all the reasons why I need to work. Economic reasons is one of the biggest factor. Personal accomplishment ranks just as high.

But, still, I wonder. Sometimes. How is my frequent absence affecting Baby Cat?

I tell myself I'm a better Mom because I continue to be my own person, the person I was before Laila came. But I know I'm not. I've been modified by having this little devil of an angel come into my life.

But I'm such a wuss. I continue to cling to the old part of me. Sometimes I hold on to my old self for dear life. Sometimes I just want to let go of it.

Friend Inday told me years ago--not in a discouraging tone, mind you--that having a little baby would pin me to Manila, that I wouldn't be going out of town chasing stories for quite some time.

That hadn't happened. I'm still chasing stories. The baby is left at home with the Nanny.

It's gut wrenching.

Sometimes I blame Daddy Cat. If he were more macho and insecure and he wouldn't let me have a career on my own, I wouldn't be having this dilemma. The decision would have been made for me. I'd be nailed to the house.

But Daddy Cat is one of those secure and mature men who do not mind having the wife have her own life. So, yeah, Daddy Cat, this is all your fault.

+++

Laila was fine even before I finished getting dressed. She was excited to play in the kiddie pool with Paris and Nicole. Those two girls aren't so bad. But they are little girls adept in little girl politics.

But, apparently, Baby Cat can stand her own and successfully wade through the muck of playgorund politics. In the end, she decided to wade in her pool by herself. She wouldn't explain why, but she broke off from the pack.

That's my girl. She's her own person.

Fwends

Laila's fallen into a habit of going to the neighbor's shortly after waking up in the morning.

Right after she gets washed up, she picks up whatever toy she fancies and then trots a flight up the stairs and calls out to her playmates, a sister and brother team both younger than her. We've even given the little boy a nickname--Baby Bwuder.

Twice I've heard that Baby Cat's eaten breakfast there. This morning, Ate Yen brought Laila's breakfast upstairs.

Later in the day, the trio would switch venues and head down to our house. Often, Baby Bwuder and his Ate are still in the house by the time I get home from work. The kids share dinner in Laila's table.

It's nice that Laila's developed a friendship with the siblings from upstairs. Her social skills are definitely better than mine.

Having kids aged 3, 2 and 1 in the house gives me a preview of how it is to have more than one kid, well, the house. And I can honestly say that I enjoy it.

I am amused to hear them argue. I love that they confidently express themselves, even if it's only through screaming fits.

The enjoyment is sourced largely from the knowledge that, at the end of the day, two of the other kids will be going home.