Loving Laila

1 Sympathy

2010-06-22T21:38:00.001-07:00

Laila has started first grade. Woohoo!!!

As usual, she's among the youngest in class. She only turning 6 in a couple of weeks while her classmates are already 7. This gave her a little bit of insecurity. She was worried she won't be allowed to attend Grade 1 because she's not yet 7.

She seems to be enjoying school. Baby Cat only cried a little bit when I had to leave her alone in class on the first day. On the second day, she didn't mind riding the school bus on her own. This morning, she almost forgot to kiss me goodbye before hopping on the bus.

So far so good. She has these horrible separation anxiety attacks whenever school starts. She's taken after me. I still have terrible bouts of separation anxiety even if business trips are a regular part of work.

Laila looks like she's coping better than I am. She really is an upgraded version of me.

+++

Laila's lost one of her upper front teeth on the first day of class. She says she was biting into her cupcake when it fell off. That tooth had been wiggling for the past days but she didn't want to go to the dentist to have it pulled out.

It'll fall off when it wants to, she tells me.

And it did. On the first day of class!

Laila said her classmates laughed seeing her toothless all of a sudden. I asked if she felt bad that her classmates laughed. (I don't like her being teased.)

She said 'no' and flashed me a wide one tooth less grin. 'I look funny,' she said, urging me to put my hand in front of her mouth to feel her breath from the gap between her teeth.

I think she's not as affected by teasing as me and she doesn't mind as much when she looks funny. She really is my upgraded version.

New Teeth, New Bites

2010-04-11T23:33:00.001-07:00

Seven-month old Ezekiel's first two teeth are coming out.
Yup. Already. It's so cute. First he got diarrhea for over a week and then the teeth came out. I'm not sure if those two are linked, but that's the proper order of events.
He's always loved to bite and nibble and dig his mouth into things--my shoulder included--but this time I'm really beginning to feel the 'bite'.
He's going to be a biter I think.
Scary prospect. I still remember Laila's biting phase vividly. I no longer have the black and blue patches as remembrance, but the feel of her new, sharp and barely used dentures are not something you can easily forget.
Ate Jeanette has her own memory of that phase. Right in her bum.
But my those little teeth are cute. Sometimes I'm thinking that getting is worth knowing that they're there.
Then again, ask me again when he's fully into the biting phase.

How Time Flies

2010-03-10T20:19:00.000-08:00

Oh my! Have I been away this long?

It's been months since I wrote last. But seems to me like ages. Too many things happened, some good, some otherwise. But I'm glad I've come back here.

Here's the list of significant goings on:

1. Baby brother. Ezekiel was born August 28. He is now six months old and very active and mobile. He smiles easily, grabs things eagerly, and babbles constantly (just like Laila). He started solids two weeks ago. This weekend, he will have his first taste of real veggies.

2. New house. We moved to the condo summer last year. Laila enjoys the pool and her new friends terribly.

3. Ondoy. The typhoon submerged the house and drove me to near post partum depression. Ezekiel was barely a month old when he hit. We evacuated the house for two weeks. Five months later, the house still looks like a disaster area. Books, toys and an assortment of stuff are strewn all over the place. Oh wait, it was like that even before the Flood.

4. Weight loss. I'm now back to my pre-pregnancy weight, maybe a bit smaller. (Clapping) Thank you! Thank you! (Bow)

5. New job for Daddy Cat. He's left Shangri-la after 7 years and is now connected with a law firm. He's won his first court case. He also continues to receive pro bono cases from friends. The payment he gets are clothing items and shoes for me.

6. Laila. She's all set for Grade One next year. She's not too excited though. She says she doesn't want to grow old and die. Familiar worries.

But best of all is Laila's grown so much in the past months. She's a very responsible and loving Big Sister to Ezekiel. It's almost impossible to distract her from whatever it is she's busy with, but she is always ready to help when Ezekiel take care of Ezekiel, whether it's fetching his bottle or his bib.

She looks for Ezekiel first thing in the morning and is always disappointed when she realizes that I've sent him downstairs so he wouldn't wake her up. Ezekiel wakes up really early, like 5 am or 530 am.

It's been a challenging past couple of months. I have a good feeling about the coming year.

Art Smart

2009-07-09T19:27:00.000-07:00

For her homework, Laila was asked to draw an activity the family does together. This is what she drew.

As a testament to how physically active we are as a family, she sketched the TV (with Barbie in horsieland on the screen), the PS2 console, the couch and a tableful of food. Of course, Ngatngat and Yamot, the guinea pigs, were there too.

Ok, so we're not very into physical activities. I'm even discouraged right now against too much walking. Go figure. But we used to be active. We would go to the QC Memorial Circle every Sunday to jog.

But going back to Laila's artwork.

I just can't believe the details! The people she drew weren't even the stick figures you'd expect from a 5-year old; they have flesh.

And see that woman on the left? Yes it's me. Notice anything different from the other figures? I've got curves! No, not boobies. They're not even hips.

'That's Baby Bwuder,' Laila told me as she scribbled the semi-circle at both sides of my torso.

Laila's keen on details I wouldn't even put in the drawing if I was asked to draw it.

She put in the controls at the PS2 console. She also remembered to include the circular design of the dining table's iron frame.

Party for five

2009-07-08T00:02:00.000-07:00

My baby turned 5 yesterday. And, boy, is she proud of it.

And, this early, she's set her sights on turning 6. Why, you ask? Because turning 6 would bring her closer to being 7--the age I told her she can have those funky shoes with wheels attached to them.

But that's going ahead of the story.

Baby Cat's birthday celebration began Saturday when we had the house blessed. Only family was there. And her Ninong Gerard who successfully found the house with minimal directions given.

Ate Michelle gave her a huge Minnie Mouse balloon. It slipped from her hand and flew away in under 10 minutes. She refused to have the string tied around her wrist, afraid that the balloon would fly away with her. She wasn't distraught, though, since she's proven that a balloon not tied on her wrist will not fly away with her.

The next celebration was in school. We brought mocha cake with a Cinderella figurine and chocolate drinks for recess.

The kids seemed to enjoy singing Happy Birthday and buzzing by me as I sliced the cake more than they did the actual eating part. Laila didn't even have a slice. Instead, she chose to eat her baon of rice and lambot meat (tocino). (It's so like her to pass up on the cake hehehehe)

Then that afternoon, she had her friends over for a cake and ice cream party!

Siblings Drew and Baste came over, as well as busmates Xander and Darlene. Daddy Cat was home supervising the party. He says it was chaos. I think that afternoon convinced him that he doesn't want as many kids himself.

First, Daddy Cat was lighting the candles for Laila to blow out, but Xander blew them out ahead. Then Laila prematurely blew the candles before he could take a picture of her.

Then Baste saw his three Hulk action figures and wanted to play with them. Baste also wanted to play with various knick-knacks buried deep in the bottom of Laila's toy box.

Of course, you have 5 little munchkins so there's bound to be tension. The kids fought over blocks, which they promptly forgot 20 seconds later.

I called the house and I could hear the ruckus. Daddy took pictures of the scene so he's got proof.

Daddy and Laila picked me up from work that night. On the drive home, Laila asked me is she's 5 already.

When I answered yes, here's her next commentary (in her sweet, sweet tone): 'Bakit hindi pa ako tumubo? Hindi ko na-feel nag-grow ako.'

Where she gets these thoughts, I have no idea. Only a little kid would come up with statements like that.

She also said something about turning 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10. I know she was thinking of all the things and tricks I told her big kids can do. The shoes with wheels for instance. And being allowed to ice skate. But I just want to stay in this moment, when she's big enough to communicate and understand yet still a baby enough to let herself be babied by me.

Love you Baby Cat.

School

2009-06-26T00:57:00.000-07:00

Laila's started Senior Kinder already. You should see how torn she is every morning.

she's obviously excited to go to school. That's until we get to the door of the school service. Then she starts clinging and crying.

Another bout with separation anxiety probably. She must be very stressed with a lot of 'new' things. New house, new friends, new school. Not to mention a new brother coming in the next few weeks.

But she's such an easy-going kid I know she'll cope. Ate Nining says she stops crying shortly after the school bus starts moving. By the time she goes home, she's already playing the other kids in the service with her. And Baby Cat doesn't even mention her crying spell when we talk about her day.

That's my little lady.

Baby worries

2009-06-26T00:10:00.000-07:00

I had a scare three weeks ago. The doctor thought Baby Bwuder was about to make an arrival early so she had me on bed rest for a week. Not that we're not excited to see him, but I'm glad to say he stayed where he's supposed to be--in my uterus.

Here's what happened:

It was a Saturday. It's been a week since we moved to the condo and almost everything was still in boxes. Clutter clutter clutter. So, I wanted to de-clutter. I spent the morning cleaning the shelves and stacking books.

Then we went to Greenhills for lunch. The plan was to go to Bliss afterward to pick up stuff left behind. But by the time we were at the toy store, Baby Bwuder was kicking and body slamming me violently that it was difficult to walk.

The pain shot through me and that got me thinking if something was wrong. Also, my undies had been feeling damp. That couldn't be good, I thought.

The oby checked me and announced that I was dilated 1 cm.

That didn't sink in and she had to explain it to me like I were 4 years old. My cervix was dilated 1 cm and I was leaking amniotic fluid. I also had an infection that either caused or was aggravating my condition.

Still it didn't sink in. This explanation helped me to finally understand. I was in the early stages of labor and if we don't stop it, the baby would come 3 months early. That means his lungs haven't developed and life outside the womb wouldn't be viable. I was 27 weeks pregnant at that time.

I was to be admitted in hosp for medical management. And bed rest. I wasn't even allowed to sit up in bed. I did all my business there on the hospital bed.

Laila was so sweet during the time I was sick.

I had an ultrasound the first day in hospital, and she wanted to be there with me when Baby Bwuder's picture was taken. But Daddy Cat had to take her home so she missed it. Later on, I learned that she was chiding Daddy Cat because she couldn't be there, unlike the first time when she saw Baby Bwuder in the monitor.

She also begged Daddy Cat to let her stay overnight with me. Of course she couldn't. I'd been worried about what illness she might catch visiting me at hospital already. But it really was heartwarming to see how excited she is every time she comes for a visit.

The doctor allowed me to go home Wednesday but I was still on bed rest until Monday, when she gave me clearance to go back to work. But on strict orders not to be very active unless I want labor to start again.

I'm praying he comes when he's supposed to on Sept. 8 or thereabout. But I'm taking the necessary precautions to make sure he's on schedule and not early.

That means no more walks for me. And since walking had been my primary exercise since getting pregnant, that also means no more exercise even if exercise is recommended for expectant moms. I even used a wheelchair when we went to the mall last weekend. Admittedly, though, being pushed around the mall is a rather enjoyable way of getting around. I can get used to it.

No more out of town trips either. I won't be able to visit Mommy in Nasugbu. I missed coverage of the Parada ng Lechon sa Balayan. We won't be able to swim with the dolphins in Subic for Laila's birthday.

No strenuous activities. I can't carry Laila even if I wanted to. I can't run or roughhouse with her. I'm not sure if I can take a dip in the pool.

I've got 8 more weeks 'til the baby comes.

Padyak, Padyak, Padyak

2009-05-08T02:31:00.000-07:00

Admittedly, it is a catchy tune. Particularly because it was sung by a little boy crooning about the hardships of life.

Laila needed only one time to hear it on radio before she started humming herself. Padyak padyak padyak...

I'm no Mar Roxas fan, but whoever thought of that ad campaign for him was brilliant as well as disappointing.

Padyak padyak padyak, pagod ng mangarap...

It's a haunting tune, especially for impressionable children.

But I can't shake the image of Mar getting on a pedicab driven by a boy half his size. The boy, when asked what he wanted to be when he grew up, answered 'seaman.' A little girl in the pedicab with Mar said she wanted to be an 'artista'.

Uh, I suppose it does take a certain type of personality to become a seaman and it would need a lot of skills to be a good actress. But then what happened to little kids who wants to be doctors, engineers and astronauts?

The 1980s family sitcom The Cosby Show featured a professional African-American family--dad was a doctor and mom was a lawyer who speaks Spanish. It was a totally different take on African-Americans who were usually portrayed as uneducated hoodlums. The sitcom improved the perception of African-Americans, with more young African-Americans saying they want to be professionals like the Huckstables too.

Shouldn't the Mar, ehem, 'infomercial' have featured kids who dreamed high?

I have nothing against blue collar work. Not that being an artista is blue collar work. But when you mean to inspire a nation to progress and economic development, shouldn't you be pushing for entrepreneurs, professionals and scientists?

Oh well, when it's a question of politicians, we could very well be singing padyak padyak padyak, pagod ng mangarap as well.

It's difficult to hang on to a dream where the country's leaders propel to country to progress.

Whining

2009-05-04T21:56:00.000-07:00

Laila's been whining a lot lately.

I'm not blaming her though. The people at the house are really making an effort to make her whine.

Biggest of all teasers is Daddy Cat, who begins her day by waking her up. He then counts 1 to 10, an indication that a race to the sofa is about to begin. If you've just woken up, would you be in the mood to race anywhere but back to sleep? Or Daddy Cat would tickle her feet or nibble on her ears. He also ends her day with a major dose of teasing, from tickling to anything that would make her cream and whine.

Cousins John and Anne, who are both staying with us for the summer, aren't any easier on Baby Cat either. They don't mean to tease her, but they just ended up that way without meaning to. And so Laila ends up whining more lately.

I know Laila whines because of the stimuli around her. As much as I want to protect her from this stimuli, I can't be beside her all the time. Besides, it's good if she learns to stand up for herself.

We're still into enriching her vocabulary and her ability to express herself in words. She's quite verbal for her age already. Her teacher's told me about it more than once. So I know we're getting closer to the point where she wouldn't need to resort to whining to get her message across.

If she knows how to express her feelings and thoughts in words, she wouldn't whine.

Her firsts at 4

2009-04-29T02:47:00.000-07:00

I know I told myself I would prefer that Laila doesn't follow my career path. Journalism is a messy, unpredictable, energy-consuming career that leaves one little energy and time for anything else. (That is to be distinguished from my desire of wanting her to learn to value and take pride in hard work.)

But I wanted her close so badly that I took her with me to a press conference.

This is her at the main briefing room at the defense department. She insisted on sitting at the table where every other reporter is sitting. She also wanted to speak on the mic (and this is where I put my foot down).

As is customary practice, there was an ambush interview after the press con. Laila insisted in being in the middle of the small crowd that huddle a health department official talking about the swine flu.

She obviously thoroughly enjoyed herself.

But what really melted my heart was when she approached me during the presscon, right after I fielded a question, and told me that I did good. She was looking straight into my eyes when she said it. She looked so sincere and I could just eat her up.

For this little girl, I would do anything, be anything.

Here are a few other 'firsts' now that she's 4 years old. (Who says a baby's firsts are all experienced in her first year.)

The statue is that of Gen. Emilio Aguinaldo that guards the parade grounds in Camp Aguinaldo. While walking to the gate from DND, Laila saw the lush green grass and just had to have a romp around. This is just my second time to sit and relax in front of the statue.

This is her first swim at the Cambridge pool. Behind her is Kuya John who had as much a good time as she.

Smart Alec

2009-04-27T03:20:00.000-07:00

Daddy Cat and Laila had a father-daughter date last Friday before they picked me up from the office.

As a treat, they both got new toys--Laila bought a stuffed brown Basset Hound while Daddy Cat got a new GI Joe action figure. Laila was excitedly telling me about it as we drove out from the office driveway.

And then she decided she wanted to sit with me in the front seat.

For months now we've been training her to sit at the back. One, because she's grown too heavy to sit on my lap for too long a time and, two, because The Bump is growing too big for me to fit in the front seat by myself.

So anyways, Laila was insisting to sit on my lap, and Daddy Cat was dissuading her.

Daddy Cat: You have a new toy and kids with new toys sit at the back.

Laila: You have a new toy and you sit in front.

Daddy Cat: I'm driving, that's why I sit in front.

Laila (pretending to hold a steering wheel): I'm driving too.

I couldn't help but praise her for knowing how to reason out. It's proof she's processing her thoughts. :)

But, as she grows up, I really should teach her how to be less irreverent though. If I'd said something similar to my parents I'd get a smacking for sure.

But I've always been irreverent of authority myself, to the dismay of the Lolo (bless his soul) and the Lola, who still do not know where they went wrong in raising me.

Nephew Utoy is as much a smart alec. I used to warn Ate that she ought to learn how to control him, because smart retorts are cute coming form a 2 year old, but not from a 10 year old.

I have half a decade more to train Laila :)

Branded

2009-02-12T02:57:00.001-08:00

I think I may have started Laila on the wrong path.

Personally, I'm not too conscious of brand names. I usually go for the first cheapest, best quality item I can lay my hands on (which is to say just about anything) or the first one that I see.

Ok Ok, I buy on impulse. But I have no compulsion to buy anything when I don't need it.

Laila's exactly like me for most things. She sees a toy on TV and says she wants them, but she hasn't thrown a tantrum yet because she was deprived of a toy while in the store. (Usually, it's me who feels upset when she doesn't go home with a toy after a visit to the store.)

Maybe it's that Mommy thing of wanting the best, if not everything, for your kid.

When I was young, Mommy used to cut my hair. When I got a little older, Ate would cut and style it. That would explain why at one point I had a puffy bangs--she was trying, and miserably failed, to replicate a cut she saw at the salon.

Laila doesn't have to worry about a bad haircut. She gets her hair done in a salon. And it can't be just any salon. It has to be David's. I took her there once and she really took to the pampering the attendants gave her. She calls David's 'Our salon' and objects when I go to other, cheaper parlors.

Earlier today, I called home to tell her I'd be late coming home. Mommy needs to talk to some people, I tell her.

She replies: 'Where? Starbucks?'

She knows Starbucks?! We've gone there a couple of times, yes, but I hadn't expected her to automatically link meetings to that coffee place.

Ex-officemate Gani once teased that I'm raising Laila to be a high-maintenance gal. That's after I told her Laila is familiar with the lotions I use for different parts of the face and body.

Gasp! He might be right!

The new angel

2009-01-22T18:50:00.000-08:00

Laila is excited.

She saw her baby brother for the first time yesterday, via ultrasound image. She says he looked sleepy. Funny girl.

Baby Cat has seemed to fulle embrace the idea of having a younger sibling. I think she's gotten used to the idea even before I did.

Of course, now that I'm 8 weeks expecting, and because I've also seen the ultrasound image of that little beanie that looks so much like Laila, the eventuality of having another little angel in the family has fully settled in my consciousness too.

Daddy Cat and I have picked out a name for him already. Laila, though, is still appealing if we could have a baby sister instead of a baby brother. Funny baby.

+++

I would sometimes ask Laila what a baby sounds like. Readily, she would say 'Googoo gaagaa.'

She refuses to say it now. I think it's primarily because she's learned it's my way of tricking her into sounding like a baby and putting diapers on her. Also, she tells me that I should wait till the baby comes out if I want to hear what a baby sounds like.

Precocious, won't you agree?

Lolo's 40 days

2008-12-16T21:55:00.000-08:00

Dad passed away exactly 41 days ago today. As per tradition, Mom hosted padasal for him. He must be smiling now, seeing all the people who turned up to pray for him.

Here are photos taken on Dad's 40 days.

As Laila would say, I miss Lolo.

Here's Mom and me. This was taken in the kitchen while she supervises the cooking being done in the backyard.

Left photo: Nanay Juling, Tita Baby from across the street and Nanay Eli.

Right photo: Ate Meding, Jelma from downstairs and Ate Esther.

My Iron chef Kuya doing his magic. His arms were the only ones big and strong enough to stir the food being cooked in those giant pots.

Ate Meding, taking a short break from the cooking and preparing. She's the padasal's floor manager.

Ustin, Rain, Laila and Utoy, at the beach waiting for the sun to set enough to sunburn-safe levels. Apart from Laila, none of the kids brought swimwear. That didn't stop them from braving the waves.

Here are all the kids, minus John (who went back to Manila early), Trisha (went home) and Julius (only heaven knows where he was when this was taken). Top row: Yeyen, Ann, Jayson, EJ; Middle: Rain and Chi; Bottom: Laila Cat.

Lolo

2008-12-11T18:56:00.000-08:00

My Dad passed away a month ago. Nov. 7. It'll be his 40 days on Tuesday.

I should say that I miss him. I do. Except that, at the back of my head, I think he's still around. I don't see him or feel his presence. I just know. Or believe.

Laila, on the other hand, is certain that Lolo is still around. More precisely, he's sitting on her shoulder. I told her the story of how people become angels and gain magic powers when they die. And, the trusting little cat that she is, Laila believed my story completely.

As a result, Lolo is permanently hovering by her right shoulder now. The right is the spot she designated her guardian angel is in. Lolo and the angel are invisible and weightless. It's part of the magic.

Laila's cousin, Trisha, on the other hand, is more certain that Lolo is still around. He would stand at the foot of her bed at night, wearing the same red and white barong he wore to my wedding and his funeral.

Trisha is one of those people who can see beyond what we do. She even had a short conversation with Lolo. Actually, it was Lolo who did the talking. Lolo told her that we should take care of Lola. That we should take her for a check up.

His reminder is actually good. I've been trying to convince Mom to get a long-delayed check up. I also want her to spend Christmas with us here. Dad's reminder would be a good argument for me to make her do what I say for once.

It should be creepy, I suppose, that the dead is coming for a visit. But I'm not creeped out at all. I actually feel warm and reassured.

He's still here.

Dad would have to move on one day, I know. Maybe he's making all these urgent reminders because his 40 days is drawing close. The old ones say the soul stays with us 40 more days after death before finally moving on.

But for now I know he is still definitely here. And he will always be here. For me. Even if he moves on.

What if...?

2008-12-07T18:17:00.000-08:00

Laila seems to have inherited my tendency for paranoia for things and events imagined. She is so like me this way.

Last night, she had a crying spell over almost all conceivable tragedy that could occur in her life. She started with the benign imaginings over what if her classmates do not like to be friends with her. Her scenario is complete with details about one event from the last school year when her arm got twisted. (This I know is real because she told me about it. In her recollection, though, Baby Cat omitted the fact—which she personally relayed to me shortly after it happened—that she engaged in some pretty mean, i.e. wickedly fun, arm-twisting herself.)

Her scenario-building soon progressed to what if people in school don’t recognize her and she’s not allowed in. Then her world of scaries expanded to include me. What if I grow old and is downed by a prolonged illness. I would die and she wouldn’t have a Mom. And what if both Daddy Cat and I grow old, sickly and die; then she would truly be alone with just her Ate Lyn.

Or, what if the police lock me up; then I’d have to eat, watch TV and take a bath in prison!

She was so distraught I couldn’t bare to laugh out loud. But I wanted to. I wanted to so much.

She is so funny the way she is afraid of so many things that she cooks up in her head. And yet she is not afraid of falling off a Ferris Wheel—which she loves to ride—and all other scary activities kids who are not familiar with danger engage in.

I think she got that from me. I tend to cook up catastrophe and tragedy in my head. Even as a child, and especially now as an adult.

Perhaps Dad’s passing away stirred up Laila’s many fears. She knew that daddy Cat’s Dad is dead and is in heaven with T-Bag (her hamster), but she hadn’t known him while he was alive. This is probably why her perception of death was quite detached until Daddy.

Baby Cat had known Lolo alive. His passing made death much more real to her. She learned that people who were alive could die and they would never live again.

Laila knows dead people become angles and the closest ones become our Guardian Angels. They gain the magic powers, become invisible and weightless. They sit on our shoulder to protect us from harm.

But we can’t embrace them like we conventionally do.

I am thinking about Dad now. And I know that, definitely, Laila gets her tendency to be despondent from me.

Making up for lost (blogging) time

2008-09-05T23:50:00.000-07:00

It's been so long, I don't know where to start. It's not that I can't think of anything, or there's nothing to write about. In fact, so much has happened, I can't imagine how to begin summarizing everything.

For starters, Laila's four now. She's been four for over a month. And she takes such pride in being four. Being four (stick four of your fingers up in the air) is her most prized possession.

Being four is so precious to her that she'd fall asleep to protect her numbers (her age) from being snatched by the years-stealing zombies and vampires that are visiting our compound lately. Yes, we've (meaning me) realized that the zombies stealing her numbers and making her three or, worse, two, again was far more terrifying for Baby Cat than those that eat little children who refuse to sleep.

And then there are her songs. Laila loves to sing. We're practicing singing Lupang Hinirang at night. I think it's a good way of introducing the topic of nationalism to her. We're also starting on our Panatang Makabayan.

She really knows her numbers and letters. She can copy words and write down the letters you tell her. She knows the sounds of letters, but she still needs work with reading. No rush though.

Baby Cat's developed a sudden fever Sunday night and it ave us quite a scare. I thought it might be dengue or malaria or H fever or typhoid.

Thankfully, it wasn't. Unfortunately, I got sick myself. Baby Cat's habit of binging her face in close and direct sneezing range could be the reason. I've had bacteria-laden saliva and mucus splattered on my face for as long as she's had colds.

But I'm not complaining. We spent three cozy days together.

Baby Cat can make her own jokes now, too.

Daddy Cat had been teaching her silly rhymes like 'What's wrong talong?' and 'What's the matter peanut butter?'

Laila's come up with her own: 'Anong meron watermelon?'

That blew me away. My baby has a sense of humor!

Not a Baby

2008-07-01T02:56:00.000-07:00

'I'm not a baby!'

Laila sounded indignant. I was catching her attention, and I called her 'baby' like I always do.

My response was as indignant: 'Since when?'

I promised myself I wouldn't mow her down with the cutting remarks I am so used to dishing out. But I couldn't help myself.

But Baby Cat wasn't about to be intimidate by my arching eyebrows and slits for eyes. She stood up as high as she could, placed her palm on the top of her head as if she was measuring her height against a wall.

'See, I'm tall. Babies aren't tall.'

By this time I've collected myself. I shrugged and said 'Ok.' She went on about her business and I pretended to go about mine.

But who the he** gave her the idea she wasn't a baby anymore? Probably got it from school. She's got classmates who have little brothers and sisters and they're just so into not being a little baby. I read somewhere that kids use the word 'baby' as a slur.

I've been wanting to kick that person's a**. I don't usually swear. Especially not here because I plan to show Baby Cat these writings one day. But yes, sweetie, Mommy wants to kick that person's a**. Whoever he or she is, he or she has no right to give you ideas that you're not a baby.

You'll always be mine. Even if I have no right to keep you one.

'Mother'

2008-06-30T00:13:00.000-07:00

I'm no longer Mommy or Mom for now. I'm 'Mother'.

I assume Baby Cat's picked it up from one of the US shows she watches. I just find it funny--and, to others, I suppose, strange--because here you only call someone 'Mother' as part gay lingo.

Laila's been attracting amused stares by calling me 'Mother.' My sister simply shakes her head, saying my little girl is so bading. And she means that in the most endearing way possible.

What I find truly hilarious is that, of course, Laila is unmindful of the attention she attracts whenever she calls me 'Mother' outside the house.

It is unusual, I admit, for a Pinoy kid to call parents 'Mother' and 'Father.' Daddy Cat is still 'Daddy' most of the time. But I'm consistently 'Mother.'

I find it terribly amusing. I can only imagine what's going on in that cute little head of hers.

Lost Time

2008-06-26T22:53:00.001-07:00

I've been awfully tired this week. Typhoon Frank brought so much devastation that the office couldn't ignore the story.

Driving back to Manila after a weekend with my parents, I was already working the phone. The following days was a blur of Lucena where the survivors were, the NDCC, and then Sibuyan Island in Romblon for the shipwreck.

The nights I would get home, Laila would already be asleep. I would kiss her and whisper in her ear that I'm home. She would stir a little, give me a drowsy smile and then pull my face close to hers with those silky soft arms of hers.

Then we'd both fall asleep, my nose buried in her hair that still smells of the kuto shampoo from that morning.

+++

But Baby Cat got a treat from me. As I said, I've been feeling tired so I finally decided to take a break.

'You're home! Mommy, my Mommy,' she exclaimed pressing her cheek against mine.

The whole afternoon as 'Mommy this' and 'Mommy that.' When she woke up from her nap, she called out 'Mommeeee...Mommeeee...'

There are times when I might find 'Mommy this' and 'Mommy that' tiresome, but not today. I've been busy and tired the whole week. An corollary feeling to that is one of guilt for being unavailable to her most of the time.

So, today, she can 'mommy this' and 'Mommy that' all she wants and I'll be 'Yes? I'm coming!'

Daddy's coming home...Yay!

2008-06-18T01:50:00.001-07:00

Daddy Cat called to say he's in the pier waiting for the ferry that would take him from Samar to Bicol. In a couple of hours, we wouldn't be separated by a body of water anymore. Yay!

Daddy Cat's gone home to the province to attend the funeral of his Lola. I would have loved to go with him, but the two-week leave I took recently just makes it impossible. But I would have loved to go. Laila hasn't even been there.

It would've been great if she could meet her cousins. It's already a pity she never got to see her great-grandmother. She would've loved the kids and the beach.

But at least this weekend we can go home to my parents for the weekend. Her Kuya Utoy and Austin will be there and we would definitely be hitting the beach. Yay!

Daddy Cat should be home by the time Baby Cat returns from school. She'd be so surprised!

Fever

2008-06-17T20:29:00.001-07:00

Baby Cat has been feverish for two night now.

'Feverish' because the thermometer tells me that her temperature is just normal, but my palm, pressed against her forehead or neck, tells me it isn't. Being the reasonable Mom that I am, I believe my palm.

Made her stay home from school yesterday, on the condition that she doesn't watch TV. I don't want her to enjoy staying home from school too much by letting her watch TV all day. I didn't tell her that of course. I told her she's sick and watching TV would make her eyes go owie.

She believed my explanation (= lie).

Baby Cat still felt warmer than usual last night even though our thermometer tells me different. It must be broken.

But I sent her to school nonetheless. She seemed happy to go, knowing that she can watch a marathon of Tom and Jerry cartoons afterwards.

I can never understand how these fevers of hers start. The books say fevers could be asymptomatic of another infection, so I never take fevers too lightly. The more experienced Moms say that fevers are just part of growing up and I shouldn't panic. The doctor already warned me against giving her fever

But I always fret anyway.

Homesick vs. not homesick

2008-06-10T21:26:00.000-07:00

I feel guilty. i haven't blogged for over a month. To me, that's like saying I haven't seriously focused on Laila for over a month.

But that's an accurate description of how I've been the past two weeks, though, since I've been away on a seminar of sorts. But I don't have a good excuse why I wasn't able to write about her prior to the trip.

I remember snippets that I've been meaning to write about. I just can't remember them right now. Which was what this space was supposed to do: prevent me from not remembering.

It's like I lost one month of her childhood. And it's nobody's fault by my own.

+++

The two weeks I was away, I have to admit, I was half missing Baby Cat, half not minding I was away. I thought I'd be more homesick, that I'd be so miserable I wouldn't be able to eat or sleep.

I had trouble sleeping, but that was because of jet lag. I lost some weight, but that was because I couldn't find any rice.

Does that make one a bad Mom? When you're not miserable while away from your kid?

I was excited as hell when it was time to come home, though. Really excited that I passed up a free, all expense-paid night in Tokyo.

Tcht.

Magaling na o!

2008-04-24T19:32:00.000-07:00

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

2008-04-08T02:31:00.000-07:00

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

2008-04-03T01:56:00.000-07:00

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.

Natural Performer

2008-03-28T20:35:00.000-07:00

Laila's school had their Moving Up Day for preschoolers on March 18. Of all the songs the kids sang, this is my favorite. Baby Cat had been belting out the song and dance number for over two weeks already. I knew it was from school but I hadn't realized it was part of the Moving Up ceremony.

Laila obviously loves performing in front of a crowd. As you obviously can see from the theater-level movements.

She and I are different in that sense. I can't help but get self-conscious when I'm in front of people, even the ones I know.

I tend to edit myself whenever I talk. To those listening, it could sound like stuttering. That's because I start to say something then my head tells my mouth this word is more appropriate or more descriptive or that the tenses don't match or to keep the voice active instead of passive.

I end up stopping in mid-sentence. That's exactly how I write. Except that it's not obvious from my story how much I edit myself while composing anything as simple as a Thank You note.

Doesn't it make you proud to have a kid who's a model more sophisticated than you? A good contribution for the species.

Mean Girls

2008-03-16T23:33:00.001-07:00

Let's just call these two little girls Paris and Nicole.

They live a few floors above us and, from time to time, Baby Cat gets to play with them. But after their bad behavior last weekend, I told the Yaya I don't want her playing with them. I don't want Laila picking up their bad behavior.

I guess it's normal for young kids to have this me-mine attitude. They must like excluding people because it's their way of feeling they belong to a clique. I know young kids tend to get overly protective of their 'possessions.'

But little Nicole--you know, the sidekick--actually shoved Laila away when she tried to get close to them.

Of course I 'calmly' told Nicole 'no pushing.' This little tyke is another only and gets away with almost everything, so she was evidently startled with my tone of voice.

The older one, Paris, was as pushy as Nicole but she was more conscious of my presence so her domineering ways was more directed at her other half.

There were other small kids in the playgroup that Paris an Nicole didn't want in. They were acting like spoiled empresses I wanted to give them a piece of my at-that-moment-not-so-mature mind.

Laila, as always, is oblivious of the power play.

What eats me is that I've never been too patient with girl politics so I don't know how I can help her navigate through the situation. As an elementary grader, I broke off from a group of girls just because I got tired of one girl imposing on the rest of the barkada. I've always had a penchant for being with the odd rather than the in crowd.

To this day, one look at me discourages people from approaching. The first impression I have on people is that I'm masungit and so they tend to keep a safe distance over fears of being snapped at.

I like that actually. But that make me not the best resource person to guide her through these tough, highly political preschool years.

How can I tell her that I deal with bitches by being a bigger bitch?

Colliding Head-on

2008-03-11T20:22:00.000-07:00

I notice that my last post was about Laila's tantrum that I triumphantly overcame. This next entry is about a tantrum than I did not.

I never saw it coming. Even with that screaming episode in the bath after I took her washcloth and tried to rub her dry. I succeeded in appeasing the storm then and I was unprepared for another onslaught.

The second wave was triggered by her missing Barbie watch. She just NEEDS to wear the Barbiewatch to school today. The Barney or the Simpsons or the Sponge Bob watch wouldn't do. It has to be the Barbie Watch.

And so she started bawling and sobbing inconsolably. And I, toothbrush in hand, just lost it.

'Fine,' I said, 'don't go to school today.'

I expected the reverse psychology to work since it's had a 99 percent success rate in the past.
It didn't.

'Ok,' Baby cat said, wiping her eyes dry and plopping down in front of the TV.

And so I lost it even more.

'No TV today. Nobody turns the TV on,' I declared, stomping outside.

I was still seething as I finished preparing for work. I was angry at her for being so ferocious. I was angry at Ate because she never fixes Laila's things the way she ought. I was angry at myself that I don't have a better Yaya. Oh what I would pay for reliable help!

I was still angry by the time I got to work. And it lingered until noon. I called home to check on Baby Cat but purposely didn't call her to the phone. I just wanted to check how she was and if my No-TV rule was being followed. It was.

By the time I got home that night, Baby Cat was all sweetness.

Today, she went to school without incident.

Little Person, Giant Meltdown

2008-03-06T22:34:00.000-08:00

Perhaps it's a rule of nature for small creatures to compensate for their, uhm, smallness.

That could explain why the teeny-tiny ant has such painful bite or why Pinschers have a nasty bark. It would also explain why toddlers and preschoolers have tantrums as devastating as Milenyo. Their inability to orally express themselves adds gustiness to the hurricane that is known by the international designation Tantrum.

Baby Cat had a major meltdown the other Sunday. It was one of those rare supertyphoons that took half an hour to calm down. That's an execptionally long tantrum for Laila.

She was screaming, thrashing, pushing, stomping and hurling all the invectives she knew.

'Mommy, get out! Get out!...You go on time out!...Time out! 10 minutes! Time out!'

And all that for a lollipop with a light-up handle that I mistakenly whisked from her without warning. A lot of blame is on me, I know.

I took the lollipop without asking and it was plain rude. But it was waaay past her bedtime and I knew she was tired from the daylong excursion. And, let me stress this, she wasn't even licking the lollipop. (The morning after I realize that she didn't want the whole lollipop, just the handle! If I knew, I would've thrown out the candy and let her play a little with the friggin stick.)

Poor baby. She was so tired and I ticked her off even more. I tried to pacify her, but she was beyond the point of being pacified.

'Get out Mommy. Leave me alone!' she sobbed.

Of course I wasn't about to let her be by herself in that state. To begin with, we never really leave her alone in a room because she might mistakenly lock herself in. Plus, it was also my bedtime and I was not inclined to stand up from bed.

'Let's just pretend Mommy isn't here, Ok?'

She paused a little, looking at me.

'But you're still there! Waaaaahhhhhhhh!!!'

At that point I hid my face behind one of the pillows. I wasn't about to add insult to injury by letting her see me laugh at her.

+++

Baby Cat calmed down 5 minutes after that conversation. We went to bed snickering that we beat Daddy Cat to sleep.

I've read a lot of literature explaining a little person's tantrums but I can never fully understand how they achieve a full recovery so quickly. They're like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Bruce Banner and The Hulk.

Scaredy Cat

2008-02-19T22:54:00.000-08:00

Laila knows her alphabet and can recognize letters readily. That much was evident from watching her play with a typing exercise on Daddy Cat's new Asus notebook.

In the game, you help the Penguin eat or zap letters falling from the sky as fish or as meteors threatening to destroy a city.

She definitely knows her alphabet, although she sometimes mixes up R with Q and a few others that look quite alike. Baby Cat can also remember where some of the letters are in the keyboard.
But she gets nervous when there are too many of them falling from the sky.

This game has different levels of dfficulty. As I found out, I, too, get overwhelmed when there are too many of them to type.

I don't freak out as much, though. At least I'm not as obvious when I freak out.

Babying Baby

2008-01-28T00:14:00.000-08:00

I've been accused of babying Laila too much in more than one occasion.

But to the contrary, I believe that I treat Laila in a more adult manner than other parents.

While other parents act as if the kids are not a thinking and feeling human being, I acknowledge that Laila is her own person with her own desires, comfort or pain levels, a sense of understanding. I understand young children are dominated by the id, by basic and instinctive drives and impulses.

As a parent, it is my responsibility to guide her to exercise control over these instinctive impulses. These are life skills she needs to learn if she is to successfully navigate in the treacherous waters of life.

But I do not expect her to have mastery over the id at this point. Because she does not.

Nevertheless, I show her respect her as I would any adult. I believe she will learn to respect others if she is a recipient of respect herself.

For instance, I do not snatch anything (nothing that poses a danger to herself or others, anyway) away from her. You wouldn't snatch a cell phone from a friend. Why would you snatch a toy from a baby?

I had to teach the New Ate, Aiza, to inform Laila ahead of time what activity is up next so Baby Cat will have time to adjust.

Don't you hate it when you realize you need to abruptly cut an activity you enjoy? Like when you suddenly need to turn off the TV in the middle of an interesting scene? Why should we expect kids to simply accept ending playtime so abruptly?

Don't do unto others what you do not want others to do unto you, so the Bible says.

+++

I'm no hypocrite, though. There are times when I get upset when Baby Cat gets too testy for me. What I do is basically what I do when I get too annoyed with a grownup and I can't belt out expletives--I stomp off.

This usually happens right before bedtime when I'm sleepy and tired myself and have less patience than I normally do. I'd turn my back on her and just close my eyes and generally act as if she wasn't there.

It's mean, I know. It makes her visibly upset. She sighs or paces around the bed not knowing where to go, or buries her face in her hands.

These episodes don't last for more than a few minutes, but I know those minutes--to a baby with a very limited concept of time and waiting--seem like hours.

She's usually more cooperative after I go through an episode, like a pliant wire ready to be bent to whatever shape I please.

But that hadn't been my intention nor is it a welcome result. I have no desire to break her will. I want to nurture it, as a matter of fact.

Which is why I have to think of an alternative to walking out when I get upset.

Little Big Baby

2008-01-27T23:54:00.000-08:00

'Mommy, teach me how to walk.'

No, Laila doesn't want me to teach her how to walk like a grownup. She wants me to hold her sando straps while she walks tip-toe, like how a newly mobile toddler would.

She'd also gush 'whaaa, whaa' and flail her arms exactly the way a one-year old would. While lying down, she raises her meaty legs and thrash and kick like a little baby.

It's hilarious!

People wouldn't approve of me encouraging these games of her. I've already been accused of babying her too much. To h*ll with that, I say.

I'd keep her little if I could. That she pretends to be a little baby is a bonus for me. She grows up so fast, these little games are a reassurance for me that she's still not so big as not to indulge in these silly games.

+++

By chance we got to sit together in Mass with a neighbor whose daughter, B, was Laila's age.

When Laila got bored, she asked for Dede and so Daddy Cat whipped out a bottle from her bag. I carried her as she finished her milk.

When B saw Laila drinking from a bottle, she quipped: 'Ay o, nakakahiya.'

I really should've just ignored her, but I couldn't help it. I said, 'No, hindi nakakahiya.' A little too forcefully, I'm afraid. These comments really just eat me up.

I understand the wisdom of weaning babies Laila's age from the bottle. Even her pedia recommended we stop giving her milk in a bottle because it could affect how her teeth grows.

But resorting to tactics that implant the idea of being embarrassed for doing something they've been doing all their lives is something I strongly oppose. Explain to them what'll happen to their teeth if they don't stop taking Dede. Explain to them the state of the family's finances.

But do not, not ever, shame them. If you do, then shame on you.

No Cry Baby No More

2008-01-23T19:39:00.000-08:00

Baby Cat had been insisting that I go to school with her since classes resumed after Christmas break.

I assume it's because of the New Ate and the renewed newness of the entire waking-up-early-preparing-for-school-and-being-left-in-class-with-teacher-and-the-classmates experience. She cried in school and got teased, I imagine, because of it.

It broke my heart to hear her whimper at night that she wants me to sit in class with her. Her relatively large vocabulary allowed her to express her preference and block my rationalizations.

Me: I can't go to class with you, I'm not a classmate.
Laila: You can be a classmate too.
Me: But I don't have a chair.
Laila: You can sit on my chair.
Me: But where would you sit?
Laila: On your lap.
Me: I'm too big for school.
Laila: Teacher Wedge (Reg) is big too but she's there.
Me: But I'm not a teacher.
Laila: You can help her.
Me: But who'll go to my office if I go to school?
Laila: I can go to the office and you go to school.

See what I mean?

She starts whimpering when she gets tired convincing me of the wisdom of her proposition. Or perhaps she's just frustrated that she can't make me agree with her.

Fortunately, Baby Cat has started enjoying school again. Yesterday morning she didn't cry as her tricycle pulled out of the driveway. This morning she gave me an enthusiastic wave and looked straight ahead with a mischievous grin. I can only imagine what she must be thinking about.

That's my girl.

First Bout with Bullies

2008-01-15T00:47:00.000-08:00

We were in the pedia's waiting lounge when Laila had her first brush with bullies.

Laila was playing side-by-side with other children, including a pair of brothers older and much, much bigger than her. The boys were trying to make her feel unwelcome in their two-man gang. Thank heavens Laila really hadn't understood the unsaid messages and didn't pay them any mind at all.

But I did. I was already on alert when I overheard the bigger boy proudly tell his Mom, who happened to share the bench with me, that he and the other boy was 'making bastos to the girl in red.' Laila was wearing a fuchsia shirt, but she was the only girl there wearing a shirt in the shade of red.

The Mom, who I initially thought was the Lola, admonished them lightly. But when the smaller boy walked past Laila I saw him swat her sleeve. The nerve! Did they think they'd get away with it?!

Laila didn't notice but I saw all of it. And my blood pressure shot up so high the air pressure inside the Glorietta 2 mall basement would have been ashamed. I promptly informed the Mom--who would easily pass off as the 'before' model in a skin care ad--about what her son did.

She admonished them again. More forcefully this time. She also made them apologize to me. I would have preferred that they apologize to Laila, but the boys wouldn't have understood the wisdom of apologizing to an even smaller kid. So I just told him not to do it again. The smaller boy later approached Laila and I could discern from his body languag he was trying to make amends.

When Laila sat on my lap I asked her if any of the kids made her feel bad. She said no and chirped that she had fun playing with her new friends.

Bless her for being so benevolent. As she grows up, I should teach her to temper that.

Laila's Baby Sister (or Brother)

2008-01-15T00:09:00.000-08:00

No, I'm not having another. Not yet.

But Laila is convinced that her Baby Sister is sleeping inside my tummy. She pats my midsection sometimes or massages it, waiting for her Baby Sister to wake up and come out. One time Baby Cat refused my embraces, warning that the Baby could get crushed.

I don't know where she gets these ideas.

We sometimes talk lengthily about Gestating Laila, how I felt her scratch me from the inside, how she kicks me, how she sometimes stretches her body like sh wanted to get out. She says that's what Baby Sister is probably thinking also.

Laila is full of innocence. She doesn't realize life could get complicated with another Little Person in the house. Her enthusiasm over a sibling and my uncertainties over having another makes me feel small.

It's not that I don't want another. I'm just worried if we can afford another. I'm worried of screwing his or her life because I wasn't a good enough parent.

I already feel I'm failing Laila because I go off to the office every morning and do not return till night. She's been recently insisting on staying home with me instead of going to school. I'm now convinced I'm a bad parent because I don't spend enough time with her.

Fever Again

2008-01-14T23:50:00.000-08:00

Laila's been suffering from low-grade fevers for three nights now.

She burns--although the thermometer says her temperature is only at 37.1 degrees or thereabouts--at night and returns to normal in the morning.

Baby Cat got me really worried yesterday morning when she overslept. She's never overslept in her life. Flashes of a four-year old victim of physical abuse overcame me. The victim, a pretty young girl, had a concussion and refused to wake up after going to bed the night previously. Twelve hours later she passed away.

But Laila's pedia recognized the beginnings of mouth sores (canker sores again) and recommended we keep her hydrated and maintain her daily dose of Vit. C to keep her resistance up. The doc doesn't recommend giving her medicine for the fever, though. She wasn't even concerned about Laila oversleeping. The working theory was that baby Cat must've been slumbering soundly.

I again looked like a paranoid conspiracy theorist. But I have no regrets. I'd rather have my worries downplayed than verified.

'Twas an Aksdent!

2008-01-04T01:14:00.000-08:00

Laila is wetting the bed again.

The other night she had an accident twice. This morning she woke me up saying she made weewe in her spot.

As a result I've been sprinkling her spot with a healthy helping of alcohol so the room wouldn't smell of pee.

I really don't mind, except that it's a bummer to wake up in the middle of the night to change her jammies and set the mat. The smell of fresh alcohol isn't making the experience any more pleasurable. I worry that our lungs are slowly melting under the fumes.

I'm guessing perhaps it's stress from the thought of going back to school. Or maybe from the new Ate. Or maybe it's just normal regression.

Laila's such a baby and a little girl at the same time. She must realize she's growing up and it could be stressing her to no end and I'm not even aware of it.

New Year, New Memories

2008-01-02T21:34:00.000-08:00

It's 2008. The extended Christmas holiday is over. And I cannot help but feel melancholic about it. I can't help but feel melancholic about everything.

We have quite a bunch of photographs taken during the holiday, but this is my favorite.

Laila and I had gone for a snack at the neighborhood Jollibee late afternoon January 2nd. Just us girls. She had some spaghetti and fries and iced tea and a whole lot of playtime in the indoor playground. She also got the lavander Tweety Bird dresser light that the other kids drooled over.

She darted all over the playground, climbed all the way to the top and jostled for space on the slide. She made small talk with some of the older kids, what they chatted about I had no idea. Laila's great with the older kids but she needs work on how to handle the smaller ones. She needs coaching to let the younger kids pass by unmenaced. And she would sometimes complain that this baby or that stepped on or pushed her.

Baby Cat lounged lazily be the playground entrance, minding her own business as the other kids stepped over her. And I literally had flashbacks of the first time we let her play in that very same playground.

Baby Cat must have been around a year old and was still unsteady on her feet. I was watching over her like a mommy lion, ready to pounce at the faintest sign that the older, more boisterous kids might bump or step on her.

She had been content in sitting in the middle of the cushioned giant fiberglass box serving as the playground's entrance. Laila didn't even want to try crawling through the tube that connected the box she was in to the neighboring box. She just sat there, looking passively as the more nimble kids darted past.

Now she's one of them, the big babies.

Baby Cat hadn't needed a highchair this time. She patiently sat on the regular plastic chair, nibbling on a fry and opening her mouth to the next spoonful of spaghetti. We spent an hour before agreeing to go home just as it was getting dark.

She held my hand on the way to the tricycle station.

Merry Christmas!

2007-12-25T20:33:00.000-08:00

It was a fun for Christmas for Laila and all of us.

We went home to Lolo and Lola in Nasugbu. Kuya was home for the holidays too. So it was like a reunion. All the kids were there.

We went to the beach, heard mass, basically bummed around the whole two days we were there. Daddy Cat and I bummed around. Laila Cat was all abuzz playing with Kuya Utoy and Kuya Austin the whole day she was beat at night.

The two tyanaks and Ate Anne returned home with us so Laila's roughhousing with the other critters is on extended play.

+++

Laila's a bit indifferent toward Santa Claus. She knows him as the old man with the long white beard and that he gives kids presents for Christmas, but she's not really too excited over him.

I'd been worrying about this because I'm worried she'd grow up indifferent toward Christmas traditions.

But when we attended Christmas Day mass, I realized she doesn't connect Christmas with Santa too much because she identifies Christmas as Jesus' birthday. (I ought to be learning something here, I know.)

On the way to Church, she asked me if there will be cake since it's Jesus' birthday. But she says that the man--the priest--will have to blow the candles since Jesus is a statue. She was amused at how many kids attended Jesus' birthday and the balloons outside church.

Her idea of Christmas is a bit different. But I wouldn't mind if she grows up with it. The lack of fascination over Santa Claus isn't so bad.

Losing hair

2007-12-11T21:35:00.000-08:00

Laila woke up in the middle of the night and refused to go back to sleep.

She had all these excuses to stay awake. Dede. Weewee. Poopoo. Water. Dede. Weewee. I was trying to be really patient but I my head was spinning and I wanted to go back to sleep.

Then she let out a pained wail that jolted me up.

'Natanggal hair ko!' she cried in between sobs.

Half asleep, I thought i heard her say she said she pulled out a nail. I know how painful that would be. So I asked her again what happened.

Still sobbing inconsolably, she repeated: 'Natanggal hair ko.' This time she pointed to the top of her head.

She must've pulled out a strand of hair while she was fiddling with whatever it was she was fiddling with.

Fully awake now, I was keeping myself from laughing out loud. I didn't want her to think I was laughing at her. But she was so darn funny. It must have been her first time to experience a strand of hair being pulled out from the root and it scared her.

Laila eventually settled down, snuggled close to me.

I was sentimental at 3am because she came to me when she was scared. And I was there for her.

I'd like to be there for her every time she gets scared. That would be easier to accomplish if she gets scared only every 3am.

Being healthy

2007-12-10T22:15:00.000-08:00

Laila's shed a few pounds. I just know it.

She's plump as ever. And nobody agrees with me that she's lost weight. But I just know it.

Laila's not as heavy as she was before her bout with toncilitis.

It could be because we stopped giving her Pediasure as a milk supplement. Pediasure's rich in protein and it's a good meal replacement. We--mostly I--were worried that she'd become obese. And I was worried that she'd get heart problems one day.

And so we stopped giving her Pediasure. She's still taking Promil 3 and it's good milk as well. But I guess her protein intake got cut significantly as well.

It's not good obsessing about her weight. She's such a healthy eater I shouldn't worry this much.

But I do.

Being overweight when I was young, I know it would be a rough ride is she grows up overweight. I should stop obsessing about her weight. I don't want her to get the vibe and start on it herself. Keeping my weight has become a lifelong preoccupation for me. I don't want her to go down the same path.

She's quite conscious of how she looks now. No thanks to everyone else who keeps exclaiming how big she's gotten. Not to mention being teased about her deliciously protruding belly.

Adults can be mean and insensitive. I try to block off those nsensitive comments. But I can't protect her as much from my own obsessions.

She's eating healthy--passing up a slice of chocolate cake to nibble on greens from sinigang--and that should be that.

+++

Research data show that 1 percent of young children are overweight. During our last trip to the pedia, Laila was as big--in height and weight--as a big four year old. Her pedia isn't worried about it but she recommended that we don't let Laila get any bigger.

Why? Because obese children ten to have higher blood pressure and higher cholesterol levels that chldren with normal weight. There's also a higher risk of developing heart problems and diabetes.

Laila comes from a family where we have everything in terms of health problems. Heart disease. Diabetes. Asthma. High blood pressure. Athritis. Kidney failure.

That's the other reason why I'm worried about her becoming overweight.

Christmassy

2007-12-06T18:53:00.000-08:00

The tree is out. The presents--most of it--are wrapped and laid alongside (we have a 3-foot tree, go figure) it. So is the Belen.

Yes, Christmas has already arrived in our home.

There are some stockings that need to be hung and some more presents to buy, but basically we've accomplished our holidays duties early and relatively stress-free this year. Hooray for good planning.

Laila's quite excited about her gifts. She knows she's got some in the big pile of presents by the tree but she's done a good job of not minding them too much. It helps that she got Princess Rosella early. Daddy Cat's mentioned that he might get her a car for the dolls, but I dunno if he really will. She'd love a car, though.

I've also begun reading 'The Night Before Christmas' to her during bedtime. She loved Santa's story when I read it to her last year. She must've liked the rhymes. This year she's so full of questions--like 'where's the mouse?' or 'why's santa's hands on his lap?' or 'alis na sila?' or 'san sila punta?' or 'meron pa gifts o'--that it takes me twice as long to finish the book.

Oh well, what's good is that she's really involved in the story.

This weekend we hope to visit Daddy's sick cousin in Novaliches. It's always good to share the holiday cheer.

Bonding with Barbie

2007-11-26T23:55:00.000-08:00

That's Laila's latest treasure: Princess Rosella from Barbie's Island Princess movie.

I know, I know. I'd been a tough advocate against Barbies. I once hid away several Barbie doll hand-me-downs from cousin Michelle because I didn't want Baby Cat playing with them. Laila eventually discovered the dolls, of course. She combed their flowing locks, switched party dresses and pretended they were going off somewhere.

I was afraid she'd grow up thinking life was all about pretty faces and a svelte physique, fancy dresses and a change of shoes that she'd not place as much importance on strong character, a thirst for knowledge and a healthy quest for knowledge and adventure.

To me Barbie had been the perfect role model for of a bubbly, giggling cheerleaders, a mineglass bindoo (how Laila pronounces mindless bimbo--it's another story how she learned the term and who she heard it from), a dumb blonde.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'd been a late-blooming, obese, ugly duckling and, as a teenager, had been secretly envious of girls who blossomed much earlier than I did. I blame that on, while I was growing up, how a lot of people put a lot of premium on 'pretty' and 'sociable' and 'easy-going'. I could, with a stretch of the imagination, pass off as pretty even in my overweight teen years. But sociable and easy-going, no.

Several sensible friends, consulted independently of each other about the Barbie issue, all agree I am being overly paranoid.

But I was only convinced after I heard Laila playing with her dolls and taking them to a fairytale office. Sometimes they're off gallivanting with dragons. Aha! So she's not in the path of being a girly-girl I was afraid she'd become after all.

Which is why when she asked for the Barbie Island Princess doll I really didn't have to think twice about getting her one. It was pretty expensive. It was fortunate that Ninong J gave her one as a gift.

Now, all I have to save up for is that Bratz Chloe doll that you can put makeup on and paint her nails.

+++

I owned barbies myself as a girl. Who didn't? But Barbie was always a Brenda Starr, Reporter wannabe. I even made her a tiny newspaper, typewriter (computers weren't in vogue then) and a tiny camera. Hmmm, perhaps there is something I should blame Barbie for after all.

Time Gone By

2007-11-25T20:19:00.000-08:00

The weekend went by so fast. Just like the past three weeks.

It's not even like nothing significant happened the past weeks. Because a lot did. But work sometimes has a strange way of crowding out everything else. And that's what work has done exactly.

A lot of what happened is recorded in my head, though. Like how Laila hasn't had an 'accident' and has successfully and consistently gone potty at night. How she enjoyed neighbor Daphne's birthday party, had everone smitten with her Monder Moman outfit and, later that same day, sat patiently through the wedding reception of a friend of Daddy's.

Baby Cat also declared she doesn't want to drink milk from a bottle in school because it's only for babies. She still does though. Bless my little baby.

She sings Bayang Gagiliw and makes you guess what tune she's humming. It's always It's a Small World After All. She complains that her shirt is too small, tugging at the hem if a hint of her belly peeks from underneath.

And there are others that I don't remember now. Which is why I started this journal in the first place. I want to remember. I want to remember all of it. And, when Baby Cat gets bigger, I want to remind her of the days when she was small and she'd run to me, sit on my lap and burry her pretty little face in my neck.

I know when she gets older she'd stop acting like the little baby she is now. She could still be affectionate. But she'd more likely be affectionate in a different manner. She'll forever be my baby but she wouldn't be that babyish baby like now.

Time has a way of sneaking up on you. First I remember waking up to a typhoon-threatened Saturday and, before I knew it, then we were in the middle of the Monday buzz.

I feel like I've done Laila injustice by missing out from chronicling those three weeks. What's good about going amiss and being told of it is that you get a chance to make things right.

Existential Thoughts

2007-10-30T22:13:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-30T03:22:00.000-07:00

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!

2007-10-30T02:26:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-26T02:20:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-25T01:35:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-14T22:51:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-10T00:28:00.001-07:00

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

2007-10-09T01:33:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-03T03:18:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-02T20:14:00.001-07:00

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.

+++

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

SHM for a Day

2007-10-01T22:24:00.000-07:00

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.

+++

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

2007-10-01T19:35:00.000-07:00

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.

No A&P Catholic

2007-09-24T01:06:00.000-07:00

Laila's gotten used to saying her prayers at night. And she's pretty much settled down on the idea of attending mass on Sundays.

She even leads our bedtime prayers sometimes. "Ow fder...awt heben...n-neymm...kingkangkom...duuhn...o ert...asis...heben!...daaay...ow bweeed...uh shins...dose...sind engst tus...tess...AMEN!"

She knows the sign of the cross and makes mano (if she feels like it) to the old folks. She's also very keen on stuff like why Jesus is nailed on the cross and why he carries the 'kwoss' sometimes, or why he sleeps on Mama Mary's lap at other times. She asks why bad girls and bad boys make Jesus sad and why is it he has blood on his hands and knees.

I don't know how to answer her questions appropriately half of the time, but I take full credit that she's familiar with the basics of the faith. All that makes me feel so smug. I want to give myself a hearty pat in the back. Good work!

Her interest in all thing religious now is not an assurance that she will grow up to be a strict believer of the faith, I know. But I think she's doing admirably. And I believe I've done pretty well so far.

I didn't think I would, considering I was a big A&P Catholic before she came. I was even less, truth be told.

I still don't consider myself as a real religious type. But I don't mind if Laila grows up to be one.

Coosome Twosome

2007-09-10T19:16:00.000-07:00

It's been five days since Daddy Cat left on his big holiday. Today is my last day alone with Baby Cat, if you don't count the two Ates and the Uncles and Auntie who have been keeping her company while I'm at work.

And, I have to say, having her all to myself is not so bad. She's been very cooperative.

Although, she has gotten into the habit of waking up around 3 or 4 am to pee in the potty. She also has these last minute bedtime requests like a glass of water or a trip to the potty and another trip to the potty after that. And those endless questions--why is Daddy not here? why is there only two of us? why is it dark? if if't not dark, what is it? why? why? why?

She's trying to push back bedtime, obviously. Luckily for me I've already read that chapter dedicated to overcoming delaying tactics during bedtime. I didn't have too hard a time dealing with them.

Once, she cried and whined for almost half an hour insisting to be given a fresh bottle of dede when she already had one beside her. I just let her cry it out and eventually she asked for her bottle and went right to sleep.

But, admittedly, I compromised. I may have repeatedly declined her requests to be carried but relented to an alternative request to sleep on my tummy. And so she did--all 35 lbs of her--and she's been falling asleep atop my entire upper half ever since.

I don't mind, really. I'd carry and dance her to sleep if only my arms could carry her weight. So I just make do with lettine her fall asleep on my tummy.

Overall, our time together away from Daddy Cat let us bond even closer. It also proved my theory that having one parent makes disciplining a preschooler easier because there's only one authority to follow. One rule-maker.

But we sure do miss Daddy Cat.

Missing Daddy Cat

2007-09-06T23:56:00.000-07:00

Daddy Cat left this morning for a six-day holiday all by his lonesome.

It's his first out-of-town trip without Laila and me and, I have to admit, it's a little unsettling. For me. Usually, it's me who goes away. Hmmm. So this is how it feels to be left home with the baby.

Not that I truly am home with the baby. I wish. I still gotta work till 7 pm, race to the train station, grab a quick dinner and get ready for bed before 8 pm so I have a full hour of playing with Baby Cat before she goes to bed at 9.

The only difference is Daddy Cat won't be joining me in this mad medley.

He'll be in Calbayog with Lola and the Lola Lola. Tomorrow's the town fiesta and Daddy Cat's been wanting to visit Calbayog during the fiesta. It's also a sort of celebration/reunion in honor of the first lawyer in the family in decades.

The original plan was for us three to go, but circumstances--expensive plane tickets--kept us from going. And, as it turned out, real circumstances--the office partner is away on assignment and the Erap verdict is about to come out--have cropped up and I would've been forced to cancel the trip anyway.

So, until next Wednesday, it'll just be me and Baby Cat.

+++

She took the goodbye rather well. Baby Cat cried briefly when Daddy Cat's taxi drove away but quieted down soon after we got inside the house. I guess my frequent business trips have gotten her used to brief separations.

The truth is, she cried worse when she stepped on and broke my hair clip. She was simply unconsolable for the next half hour or so. Baby Cat is so funny. She must've felt terrible about the transgression even without me making a big deal out of it.

I doubt she feels guilty because she broke my stuff. But I suppose she feels that she harmed the clip and feels sorry for it. Baby Cat wants me to glue back the piece that broke off. Awww.

Spreading Wings, Building Character

2007-09-03T01:01:00.000-07:00

This news just in from preschool: Laila is continuing to exercise her independence and is doing a good job in determining her individuality. She is freely expressing her budding artistic talents, indulging herself in the world tastes and textures.

That's Mommyspeak for 'Teacher Reg called my attention over Laila's inattention during class.'

Apparently, Laila's not been coloring inside the lines as she is supposed to and has gotten into a habit of pouring out her milk when Teacher Reg tells the class to pack away their snack things. Teacher says Laila colored really well until a few days ago when she began coloring way beyond the lines.

Slap me silly now, but I don't think that it's such a big deal. To be honest, I am delighted by it. I feel that she's pushing her individuality. And I'm glad that she is. I don't want a drone for a daughter.

As for the milk spilling, I think she sees us throwing away unfinished glasses of water at home. Perhaps she thinks that's the proper way to pack away unfinished drinks. Well, I don't want her to grow up wasteful so it's something I have to deal with.

My sister thinks I should be more strict with Laila. Otherwise, she warns, Baby Cat would grow up like her second youngest, Utoy, who's a bit naughty. I don't think he's naughty, though. A bit misguided, probably, but not a lost case. Living with the grandparents is a big factor in Utoy's demeanor. But he'll grow out of their babying.

+++

Laila is quick witted like Utoy, though. Utoy has an excuse for everything, from not doing his homework or playing too much. Laila is almost the same.

I had a talk with Baby Cat about Teacher Reg's observations. After a few minutes into my monologue, she suggested we comb her dollies' hair. I told her we'll play later after Mommy finishes her her.

She told me her ears were already hurting.

I had a hard time keeping myself from laughing out loud.

My sister would say that it's another indication that I should be stricter with Laila, or have another baby so Baby Cat would learn more about responsibility.

I think Laila's just exercising her individuality.

Gender Distinctions

2007-08-28T01:54:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I wonder what Daddy Cat thinks about being the only representative of the male species in our household.

Laila is sometimes ruthless in reminding him that he doesn't 'belong' in our exclusive girls group. 'Ikaw boy, ako girl. Si Mummy girl,' she tells him.

At bedtime, Laila would push his hand away when he reaches over me to rub her in the belly. But before doing that, Laila would check whose hand it was disturbing her road to dreamland. If she sees it's mine, Baby Cat just tucks it under her arm. If she realizes it's Dady Cat's, she swats it away with agonized complaints of 'A sikep! Moov over! Moov over!'

She also resists Daddy Cat's embraces while she openly seeks for mine.

I enjoy every bit of it of course. Go girl power!!!

Socialite

2007-08-23T03:25:00.000-07:00

It looks to me that Baby Cat is getting invited to more parties than me.

I'd first encontered that idea in family-themed comics. I thought it was a funny exaggeration. Now that Laila's social circle has expanded to preschool I realize that it wasn't so much of an exaggeration after all.

This week she was invited to the birthday party of a classmate. A couple of weeks ago it was the party of a neighbor. A few weeks before that was the party of another neighbor.

Oh well. I guess it's not the parties that bother me as much as the cost of gifts to get her friends. Sounds cheap to scrimp on birthday presents. But, hey, I scrimp on everything.

But great presents do not necessarily have to be expensive. Daddy Cat and I get a lot of good items on sale. And I prefer giving books instead of toys and books always look expensive even on sale.

+++

I don't say it out loud often enough, but I am excited for Laila whenever she attends parties. It helps her improve her social skills. I just beam whenever she smoothly adjusts to new situations and venues.

I was more aloof when I was about Laila's age. I guess I was a bit shy. But that was primarily because I didn't get enough opportunity to practice my social skills.

Blah Blah...Blahk Ship

2007-08-23T02:55:00.000-07:00

Baby Cat is a big songbird. Her current fave song is this one:

Blah blah blahk ship

Henny henny whul

Less-sir less-sir

Hee haa hool

Hann hnn hnn ster

Hann hnn name

Hann hnn boy

Lainn

Blah blah blahk ship

Henny henny whul

Less-sir less-sir

Hee haa hool

Certainly you can recognize her rendition of Bah Bah Black Sheep. She's basically gotten the tune although she has yet to master the lyrics. Her made-up words to the song sound better to my ears though.

I can never get tired of her singing. I actually beg her to sing, bribing her with anything on hand. A piece of chocolate, a cup of chocolate milk. Anything! Just to get her to sing.

It's bad practice I know. I turn hypocrite and forget for the time being what baby books say about bribes and their long-term effects. But wouldn't you do the same if you were me?

Her mini-concerts are something to behold. Laila becomes a soft-voiced soprano--if there's such a singer type--avoiding all eye-contact but continuing to sing nonetheless. When she's in a really good mood, she includes a swing of the hips and some flailing arms to her routine.

She also belts out a Rock-a-bye Baby once in a while, and then abruptly stops to exclaim with concern: 'Hulog yung baby baba, lakas hangin kse.'

Baby Cat might not be able to say the lyrics right, but she understands them.

Seeing the World

2007-08-13T22:33:00.000-07:00

I often have these bouts of insecurity, worrying that I'm depriving Laila of precious time and attention and nurturing because of the work I do.

And then there are moments that I am reminded why I do the work I do and how I am hoping that my work would help Laila become a responsible and well-rounded individual.

I went to Sulu and Basilan last weekend. What we hear about those two islands is never good. It's always blood and gore or poverty and deprivation. We do not hear how beautiful the islands are. But they are.

Here's a photo of the mangroves in Tabyawan, Basilan. Even the brigade headqaurters there has a scenic view.

I think this is Sta. Cruz island just off the shores of Zamboanga City. It's not developed, but Col. Bob swears it's a perfect diving spot. I'm inclined to believe his claim. The water was crystal clear I could see the bottom from way up in the chopper.

I don't have photos from Sulu but the aerial view is just as scenic.

I'd like Laila to see these same places when she's older. Only, I wish she can visit Sulu and Basilan without worrying over personal security.

Compweeter Whiz

2007-08-13T22:03:00.000-07:00

I've never been a techie. New technology brings out the rebel in me and I tend to hold back from trying the latest craze until almost everyone I know has picked up the bug.

I still treat my computer as a lightweight typewriter and mobile mailbox. My cell phone is, well, a mobile phone. I still don't know how to turn on the blue tooth. And I don't know how to check email sent to it. I've learned how to send an email from the phone, though, because it's my lifeline when I need to file a story and I'm in the field.

But Laila? She seems to enjoy technology more.

Here she is checking out my office laptop and 'working.' We hve a desktop at home and she's gotten adept in handling the mouse and clicking to where she wants to go.

Months ago we bought her a CD that has these kids' games. She calls it her Doggie ABCD (she still calls VCDs and CDs ABCD). One game involves fetching a newspaper, a shoe, a bone and what-have-you and giving it to the talking doggie. Another game allows her to click animal parts and the computer will 'talk' about it. It also tests her knowledge with shapes and colors, numbers and the alphabet.

Needless to say, she loves it. And I got my proof that she has mastered control over her hands and the basics of shapes and colors and etc.

And, as I''ve discovered recently, she knows how to get the CD from the CD dive and turn the compweeter off. She even remembered to switch off the regulator. I really don't like her handling anything that's plugged into an electric socket, but it was too late for me to do anything. (Mental note to self: don't let Laila do it again.)

I also bought her a toy laptop that she loves tinkering with. It teaches the same things but runs on two AA batteries so it doesn't add to the electric bill.

Hopefully, she sustains this romance with learning even when she gets older.

Rain Rain Go Away

2007-08-08T21:36:00.000-07:00

Laila's been kept home from school the past three days because of the rain. Lucky her! How I wish I could've stayed home, curled under the covers instead of trudging through the downpour to get to the office.

She understands now that she doesn't go to school when it rains. No sense in risking her catching something just to get a perfect attendance in preschool. They don't even check the attendance. We realized that last year when most of the other parents kept their kids home during rains. there was a time when only Laila and another classmate attended class.

Now we know better. So her raincoat's been packed away, never to be used unless it's really, really necessary.

I remember my Mom making me attend class even when wind and rain was strong enough to whip away a grown carabao. Of course they checked the attendance in elemetary. But still, it would've been nice to just stay home.

Like now.

+++

The rain wasn't so bad last night. I mentioned this to Laila and. for the first time, she noticed it.

"Who turned off the rain?" she asked me and I just had to laugh.

I was about to come up with a make believe reason--I don't want to explain the rain cycle to her just yet--when she came up with her own.

"Jesus turned off the rain becase it was noisy. He couldn't go to sleep."

I couldn't have come up with something better!

Explanations, Clarifications and Assurances

2007-07-24T19:24:00.001-07:00

I spoke with Teacher Chiqui, the directress and owner of Laila's preschool, about the incident with Teacher Reg.

Vouching for Teacher's Reg's character, Teacher Chiqui seconded that Teacher Reg's voice is just naturally loud and shrill and this was must have Ate Lyn misinterpreted as shouting. Nevertheless, Teacher Chiqui said she still advised Teacher Reg to tone down her voice a little so it wouldn't be misinterpreted as shouting.

Teacher Chiqui also offered some treats--i.e. books--for Laila when she arrives in school to help her settle down. Baby Cat's having a bout of separation anxiety again and has been crying when dropped off at school.

I really am not too worried about Laila's crying, and I told Teacher Chiqui about this, as I am about the shouting incident. Of course I will be disturbed after being told that a teacher shouted at my three-year old. What mom wouldn't be?

But since it's been brought out, discussed, resolved (hopefully) and never to be repeated then I am fine with it. Baby Cat remembers incindents when she thought Teacher was angry (but not at her specifically) and these incidents do not seem to lessen her fondness for Teacher Reg.

That's good enough for me.

Lessons from Mufasa

2007-07-22T22:21:00.000-07:00

I never was the type of person who would take injustice, even only perceived injustice, sitting down.

It goes without saying that I will, if you may, protect Baby Cat from injustice with all the ferocity of Mufasa protecting Simba from the hyenas. I can't roar and slash and go for the jugular the way Mufasa did. But I do my best.

And, sometimes, restrain myself the best I can as well.

This morning I spoke with Teacher Reg about her supposedly raising her voice at Laila. Baby Cat's been suffering from separation anxiety again and has been bawling whenever she's dropped off at school. Ate Lyn said she heard Teacher last Friday order Laila, in an unfriendly tone, to go inside the classroom.

Teacher Reg denied all of it. She explained--her mouth tight and eyes in obviously slighted slits--that she used her normal voice and that none of the other parents have complained about the way she handled the class.

I wanted to hiss that there's always a first time for everything but instead simply told her that I find the whole incident disturbing. I used the calmest voice I could muster. I tried to use neutral words like 'raise your voice' instead of 'shout at' or 'disturbing incident' instead of 'do that again and I'll kick you ass'.

Ate Lyn, who was standing behind me, repeated everything she told me in front of Teacher Reg. And I saw Teacher's mouth tighten even more and her eyes become even more narrower slits. My jaws tensed as well. I think she saw it too. I also think she used a wealth of euphemisms on me as well.

I ended the rather unfriendly conversation with advice to let Laila cry her separation anxiety out and for Teacher not to bark commands. Laila, like me, has ths tendency not to follow instructions if she disapproves of the tone with which it is given.

I guess my not too successful attempt at exercising restraint was borne out of the desire to protect Laila beyond the shouting incident.

Now, I am wondering how my chat with Teacher would affect Laila's relationship with her. Baby Cat definitely found the incident with Teacher striking since she remembered it and even copied the scowling face Teacher made. At the same time, Laila looks like she's still fond of Teacher Reg and of school.

But I know I did the right thing. I want to teach Laila that she has to stand up for herself and not to tolerate abusive behavior. Shouting at a crying three-year old, to me, is abusive.

When she grows up, I want Laila to know her worth and that she doesn't have to take crap from anyone. I also want her to grow up to be a decent human being who respect others as much as herself. Furthermore, I want her to condcut herself with dignity.

And I think a parent can't teach these values early enough.

Turning Thwee

2007-07-18T20:34:00.000-07:00

Laila is now officially three years old.

She's been three the past two weeks, actually. But to her, she's been 'thwee' the past several months. For some reason, she never got around to learning to say 'two' when you ask how old she is. It's always been three.

And now she really is.

We celebrated that special day with the kind of celebration she wanted--a superhero cake and clowns. Daddy Cat and I threw in some fancy balloons, Divisoria-bought loot/pabitin and catered food, but none of it distracted her from the cake and the clowns.

I set up the tables outside the house and, throughout the afternoon, she'd sneak out to thrust her scrumptious sausagey finger into the cake. That would explain the shallow creases at the backside of the cake. Well, it's hers anyway.

The kids enjoyed the clown show. The clowns did magic tricks and facilitated the games for the dozen or so little kids Laila invited. I half suspect that the clowns were a little disappointed with the limited ooohs and aaaahs the crowd gave them. Laila's guests were almost all her age and, I suppose, hadn't realized that the tricks they're seeing were, well, magic.

Baby Cat got tons of gifts and she merrily tore the wrapper from one parcel to another without seriously looking at what's inside.

What really caught her attention was a little golden puppy that barked, walked forward and wagged its tail. She stopped in the middle of opening presents to play with the puppy. We had to hide the doggie from her to make her move on to the rest of the pile.

She got a lot of new books, clothes and a few dollies.

I have a confession: Laila's not into dolls or stuffed toys. She was thoroughly excited over the new books and flipped one page after another mouth agape. The doll? She tossed it away with half the wrapper still on.

That night she crumpled on the bed tired but protesting bedtime nonetheless. But we successfully bribed her with her new Princess audio-book. That audio-book has now become a semi-regular in our bedtime routine.

Hmm. Baby Cat's thwee now. Wow.

Laila and Assunta

2007-06-25T01:11:00.000-07:00

Zoos have become an important part of our family weekends.

We've been taking Laila on zoo visits since she was small. It wasn't so much a conscious effort to instill in her a love of nature or animals than it is an effort for her to learn about nature and animals. Our family field trips are always intended to be a learning experience for Baby Cat.
Last weekend we went to Malabon Zoo.

The last time all three of us were there was two years ago at about this same time of the year. Laila was 11 months old then and was only beginning to walk so I had her in a sling. She hadn't started talking yet so showed her pleasure at seeing the big, striped orange cats with big, round eyes and a low pitched hooting much like an owl's. It didn't look like she noticed that she shared my lap with Assunta the Orangutan when we had our photo taken.

This time around, it was evident that Laila enjoyed the trip. She hopped from one holding pen to the other, eager to see what animal was sleeping next-door. baby Cat was curious with all the strange-looking birds and other animals that were there and demanded that they each be named.

It's good that I can still satisfy her with 'Bird' and the 'bird's cousin' or the 'bird's mommy.' It hadn't occurred to me until late in the trip that zoo management put up signs indicating what the animals are called. So much for being a zoo veteran.

But what really was the highlight of the trip was watching the crocodile get fed--he would leap from the water to catch chunks of raw chicken dropped by a zoo employee just a few meters up-- and the photo session with Assunta the Orangutan.

This time, Laila sat with Assunta by herself. She wasn't afraid at all! It was amazing how open to new experiences Laila is. Daddy hadn't posed with Assunta the first time. He still wasn't keen on the idea of posing with her this time.

Laila still talks excitedly and repeatedly about the things she saw in the zoo. That's my reward--knowing that things I want her to learn are sinking in.

The Big Drop

2007-06-22T00:23:00.000-07:00

It’s been two weeks since Laila returned to preschool. In those two weeks I’ve been dropping her off before sneaking away when she goes to pack away her stuff in her cubby hole in the back room.

I realize the advice given by child experts is to say your good-byes properly instead of sneaking away. But, believe me, sneaking away works better for us. Formal good-byes and kisses just elicit howls of despair from her. On the other hand, once Laila sees that I’ve already disappeared, she merrily helps herself to her favorite pink wooden tower blocks in one corner of the classroom.

She seems to have taken a liking to Teacher Reg—she’s still not as involved as Teacher Kerin but she’s not at all disappointing as I originally feared—who has funny stories to tell about my Baby Cat. It seems that Laila would scowl, dramatically put her tiny hands to her hips and ominously hiss whenever something, or someone, displeases her.

That’s exactly how Laila is at home. And that’s proof for me that she’s gotten comfortable with her new school setting. At the same time, that is evidence that Teacher is paying attention to the kids. At the beginning, I’d been worried about Laila and her new teacher wouldn’t gel. I’m glad those worries appear to be groundless.

Now, my latest dilemma is whether I’d stop dropping her off at preschool and just send her off to school with Ate. That’s what we did last year and Baby Cat was OK with it. But at the start of this schoolyear I thought I’d get more involved with Laila’s education. Hence, the daily going-to-school routine that ends with me taking her to her seat in class.

Teacher Reg suggested the other day that, since Laila has apparently overcome separation anxiety and adjusted so well, I stop taking her to school. Laila still whines a little when she knows I’m about to make my exit and Teacher Reg thinks the separation anxiety will go away completely when I stop taking her to school.

Her proposal truly is practical since it’ll give me some free minutes to prepare for work. And it definitely will spare Laila from the heartbreak of being left in school while I go off to the office. But now that someone else has mentioned it, my inclination is to keep on dropping Laila at school. Nothing personal Teacher Reg!

I’m still thinking it over. Ultimately, what I want is what would be good for my Baby Cat. But, admittedly, the obstinate me feels like going against better judgment just because I can.

Uniformity

2007-06-19T20:09:00.000-07:00

There are arguments for and against having uniforms in school.

Some psychologists say it stifles individuality, which shouldn't be what educators aim for. Others say it helps the child achieve a level of community or oneness with his peers. A more practical assessment would be that uniforms are less costly than ordinary play clothes and spares kids from developing the Keeping-Up-With-The-Joneses mentality too early.

Personally, uniforms are just darn cute.

Mayfield has a mint green dress with two pockets in front and embroidered with a mini-landscape of a hilltop house with trees and flowers and a smiling sun in the right side of the chest. How cute is that.

I remember my own uniform from Stella Maris--a blue and white sailor blouse on top of a blue pleated skirt accented with a bow-tie (for elementary pupils) or a blue necktie (for hihg school). I hated it. It was what I had on everyday. But looking back now, the uniform was rather cute.

The plan is for my Little Laila to don that same uniform when she's old enough. I think I was educated quite well by the Fraciscan nuns--well, by the teachers paid by the Franciscan nuns--and I'd like Laila to have that same privilege as well.

+++

What I'm concerned about in sending Laila to Stella Maris is, from what I remember, they have a very conservative, strict and traditional approach to education. I'm worried that this kind of school setting would stifle Laila's spirit. I remember they don't allow running in the corridors and boisterous displays--unless during volleyball games--are highly discouraged.

Furthernore, Stella's a relatively big school so their teachers, who handle more than one class at a time, cannot be expected to connect as much with their students compared to teachers and students from a smaller school like Mayfield. Big schools just do not have the personal touch that small schools provide.

But the counter-argument coming from the little voice inside my brain is that my spirited Laila needs a disciplined environment to temper her. She would also benfit from the strict Catholic upbringing.

The voices inside my head have at least two more years to continue with their argument before I have to finally decide which side to take.

Coming Naturally

2007-06-14T23:11:00.000-07:00

I've been getting a lot of flak for keeping Laila in diapers up to now. Well, she's not in diapers all the time. Just when we go out and during the night.

Nonetheless there's been a deluge of people telling me that we--meaning I--should begin sending Laila to bed diaperless and just wake her up in the middle of the night to pee.

My sister is very proud that she got her kids out of diapers at age 1 with this technique. A neighbor and Daddy's officemates have given similar testimonials to effectiveness of this method.

The problem is I'm not too keen in getting up in the middle of the night just to drag my little heavy sleeper to the bathroom. Laila is really difficult to rouse. And, once she wakes prematurely, very difficult to put to bed.

Another problem is that I don't wake up too easily myself. So chances are Laila would be having an 'accident' in bed and I'd get awakened--she'd still be asleep--by a puddle of pee slowly soaking me. I'd have t change her clothes, spray the bed with alcohol, change the sheets.

I'd be cranky, Laila would be cranky, Daddy would get the brunt of our crankiness and we'd all lose sleep. Nobody wins.

So I keep her in diapers at night.

I sternly believe that she'll toilet train herself when the time comes that she's physically ready. I don't think she'll willingly wet or poop on herself when she understands that she needs to go.

I think that time has come or is dawning at least.

For the last two days she's gone to class without her diapers. Laila hasn't had an accident so far. And this morning I saw that the diaper she used last night hadn't been soiled, the second time in a couple of days.

I've also noticed that, recently, Laila looked serously uncomfortable when she pees or poops in her diaper. When she pees, she'd sit down wherever she was and pee as if she had no diaper on. When she poops, Laila would do a cowboy walk as if she didn't want the soiled diaper to touch any part of her.

I don't think we'll be retiring the diapers tonight or tomorrow night. Laila will be toilet-trained when her bladder's good and ready even if I don't push her. I know that's just around the corner.

Back To School

2007-06-11T23:11:00.000-07:00

My Baby Cat has gone back to school.

Her first day was remarkably a toned down of version of last year, when both me and Daddy and the Ate took her to class.

This morning it was just me and Ate. I lingered a bit to see how she’d take it. She’s in a new school and my Baby Cat takes her time adjusting to new people and a new environment.

Laila started to cry when she sensed I was about to leave but eventually quieted down when Teacher Ge (a her) announced it was time to wash hands before snack time. My Baby Cat jumped down from my lap and skipped to the pantry, not minding the queue of tots that lined up before her.

I sneaked out of the room and watched her from the window. I heard her ask ‘Where’s Mommy ko?’ but appeared content when told that I’d gone out. Later I was told that she participated well in class and was not bashful at all.

Her sole complaint, if you could call it that, was that one classmate—I’m guessing the tiny shy girl seated next to her—refused to play with her.

+++

I have complaints of my own. I don’t want to be one of those Mothers who kiss up to Teacher nor do I want to be one of those Moms who badger Teacher about school stuff.

However, I have noticed that Laila’s New Teacher seems to be less attentive and welcoming than Teacher Kerin from Nest.

The first day Laila went to class last year, Teacher Kerin was at the door greeting the students and making them feel welcome. This morning, Teacher Ge was fiddling with something on her desk and not minded the kids coming in.

At one point, Laila asked her what she was putting on her arms and Teacher answered ‘lotion’ without looking at her. To me, it looked as if Teacher didn’t fully acknowledge who asked the question.

Bluntly put, it was rude of her to do that. Children, even those as young as toddlers, should be given as much respect as adults when they say or ask something.

I wish I could put Laila back at Nest. My Baby Cat really blossomed there. But the tuition’s just too darn expensive.

Wants

2007-06-08T01:20:00.000-07:00

At 2.11 years, Laila seems to have developed certain expectations of, or better yet from, me.

Take last night. She was her same exuberant self when I came home. She was jumping all over, asking to be picked up, locking me in an tight embrace that would do a python proud.

Except that she has added this line to her I'm-so-glad-you're-home greeting: 'San salubong ko?'

She actually expected me to bring her something from work! I was taken aback not only because I brought her absolutely nothing but because I had been thinking exactly just that--that maybe I should bring her something.

It's not unusual for Daddy Alvin and me to bring Laila something, anything, as pasalubong. It can be a P20 toy we buy from the MRT station or a more expensive book or trinket from the mall. Self-righteous me, I once told myself I don't want Baby Cat started to get too used to receiving pasalubong from us. I didn't like the idea of giving her too much stuff, worried that she'd turn out a materialistic and uncaring ogre. I didn't want her to take the gifts she receives for granted.

But I think we crossed that line long ago and not even noticed it. She has tons of stuff. All of it I am sure would help shape her as an individual. And about 90 percent of it gather dust in the toy room/computer room.

Question now is what we do about it. Do I continue buying her stuff that I think would help her develop into a rounded human being or do I stop this manic shopping spree?

Another big question is how do I stop it? Laila's an only and I really want to give her the best I can.

Daddy Alvin thinks I buy Laila stuff not because she wants them but because I want them for her. Perhaps.

+++

Anyways, I led her to the ref and took out a small piece of chocolate, telling her it was my pasalubong.

She gobbled it up and asked for more, going directly to the ref where we kept the chocolates. I told her she's had enough, warning her of cavities and that the Dentist disapproves of cavities.

Undaunted, Laila put her hand to her neck, complaining that it hurt and that only chocolates could make her well. 'Sakit neck ko, gamot yan,' she said.

Aba!

Bedtime

2007-06-06T20:40:00.000-07:00

I've been away the past couple of days on assignment. And, every night, as i struggled to sleep in that impersonal double bed, I think of Laila.

I imagine her snuggled close to me, her head resting on my right arm. I imagine smelling her hair while strands tickle my nostrils a bit. Then she'd wrap both her arms around my neck, snuggle even closer and whisper her breathy whisper 'Mummy ahyabyoo.'

She does that every night. Melts my heart everytime.

Thoughts like that keep me sane when I'm away. It's no toruble being on a business trip during the day. You're always busy and work keeps you from thinking of anything else. But when everything's done for the day and there's nothing left to do but sleep, then the fact of being alone finally hits you.

It's hardest the first time you lie down on the bed and the cold sheets embrace you. The clock ticks by slowly. The minutes seem like hours. Then you realize that it's been over an hour since you first laid down. Sleep is elusive. And, when it finally comes, is light and easily interrupted.

+++

When I got home, I thought Laila would be asleep. She was not. She was inside the room with Daddy.

She bolted from the room and flung herself at me, arms stretched out calling out 'Mummy! Mummy!' She embraced me tightly and insisted to be carried. Ahh, the things we live for.

It's been two nights since I got back. Laila and I are back to our nighttime routine.

Ichi

2007-05-29T20:23:00.000-07:00

That's Ichi the Little Green Bird Laila's holding in her hand. A little too tightly, I fear. But nothing to worry. Ichi survived Laila's loving grip with all feathers and bones in the right places.

We 'adopted' Ichi from the vendor at the back of the Antipolo Church last Sunday. He charged P20 for the frail-looking but feisty thing.

Of course Laila loved him! She loved Ichi so much she insisted on having him join us at the table--on the table rather--when we stopped at Padi's for lunch. I was willing to go along with it until Ichi pooped and left a mustardy drop on the surface where we'd be eating.

Ichi and his bamboo cage were relegated to hang from the back of an empty chair beside Daddy after that.

The plan was to set Ichi free the day after we got him. Laila wasn't too keen on letting Ichi go home to Mommy Bird (the red parrot from Manila Zoo) but was in the process of relenting. It was to be an elaborate Ichi Fly Away Home Ceremony. We were liberating Ichi at sunrise, or as soon as we woke up, from the garage and away from all the stray cats prowling the building.

But Daddy and I forgot. So what I did later that morning was take Ichi out of his cramped cage--it was just a little bigger that my palm--and transferred him to a shallow basket. He's too young to fly away, I told myself.

I was wrong. As soon as Ichi saw an opportunity, he flapped his teensy-weensy wings violently and soared away. Fortunately, the windows and doors were closed so he wasn't able fly outside.

Laila had a blast watching the Ates try to catch Ichi, who eventually perched on the living room light. That's when Ate Janet caught him and he ended up in Laila's loving hand.

I'd clipped open a hole in Ichi's original cage, which was impossible to repair, so I settled in keeping him in the basket with a mesh placemat as covering. We left Ichi's new home hanging in the kitchen.

A few hours later, Ichi was gone. The rascal!

Apparently, Ichi's new holding pen was just too easy to escape. I was at work when all this happened but learned that night that Laila blamed Ate Janet for the daring daylight jailbreak. My assertive burst of gunfire, ehem, sunshine tried to hit Ate with her hand--I can't recall is she was successful--while bawling about her lost pet.

Poor Laila. She was a proud and loving pet owner for only a little more than 24 hours. At least we have her and Ichi's photo to paste on her baby book under 'First Pet'.

But it was just as well that Ichi escaped. Laila would've been devastated had he gone to Bird Paradise while in our care. He's now either home in the wild or, heaven forbid, being digested by one of the neighborhood felines. As far as I know, Ichi lost only a feather--one Laila plucked--during his stay with us.

Laila has fond memories of Ichi. Up to now she gets a kick from telling stories about how Ichi flew around the house, the Ates giving chase, and Ichi sitting on the living room light. Asked where Ichi is, Laila says he's gone home to Mommy Bird.

Fearless

2007-05-20T21:58:00.000-07:00

Laila really is a fearless girl.

We took her to Manila Zoo during the weekend where she took a ride on Erika the Ostrich's back, fed goats, crossed a hanging bridge, allowed a parrot to sit on her head.

She's so daring and full of life, I can't get over it. Things that scared other little chidlren--the bridge for instance--she took on with a broad smile, sparkling eyes and her good sense of humor.

I could tell she was scared of the 'Troll Bridge' a bit, because she gripped my hand tight--or was it me?--as we inched our way across the bridge. She was muttering: 'Oh my God, Oh my God, I'm scared.'

But she walked on from end to end, sometimes even jutting her head out beyond the ropes the held the bridge together to take a better look at what was floating in the water, sometimes jumping excitedly at whatever it was she saw.

Lails's more adventurous than me. I remember my Mom and Dad took me to watch a dolphin show when I was young. The host was asking kids to come over and pet the dolphin. I wanted to, but my feet wouldn't obey. I never got to pat the dolphin and up to now I'm wondering how it would've felt.

No doubt, Laila would ride one if she's given the opportunity. That's my little girl!

+++

I love these weekend sorties. It gives us the opportunity to really be together, just the three of us. And it's my chance to fully concentrate on Laila, take care of all her needs and be a fulltime Mom to her.

We had lunch at a Chinese place inside UST. Yup, it's a real Chinese restaurant, though not the high-end type, inside the old school. And there are other restaurants that opened right inside the campus also.

When I was in college, there was only a very limited number of cafeterias and carinderias available. Which is good since I never would have been able to afford those restaurants.

They also transformed the area in front of the Main building into a park--it had a Tiananmen Square feel to it--and installed a modern fountain at Colayco Park, which they renamed the Quadricentennial Square or something. They also dismantled the unsightly tin roofing over the walkway that cut through the garden leading to the heart of the university.

Amazing! It reminded me of the universities I visited in Beijing.

I doubt if my parents would be able to afford to send me to UST if I had to enroll today. It's a reminder to seriously start prearing for Laila's college education. I bet it'll cost somewhere around a million pesos to put Laila to college when her time comes.

Bye-Bye Cuz'

2007-05-18T21:49:00.000-07:00

Kuya Utoy and Ate Anne have gone back home to Nasugbu after six weeks of staying with us. Laila seemed to have taken it well, going back to our regular routine.

Although, the morning they left, she woke up, bolted from the bed and screamed out: 'Wag uwi!' She cried a little, calling out 'Kuya Utoy ko, Ate Anne ko....Waaaah!'

She perked up a little after we spoke to them on the phone, but was still pleading for them not to go home to Lola's house.

Poor Laila. Company's limited again to the two Ates, who, I learned recently, have made it a habit to carry her everywhere. Now I know why she refuses to walk on her own at the mall. Note to self: Get her used to walking around.

It's good that school will start soon. That'll give her something to do in the mornings.

+++

Laila's about as tactless as innocent kids could be.

I was getting ready for bed the other night and was inspecting my Mommy flabs in front of the mirror when she came to me, held the hips that carried her for the first nine months of her life in between her little hands, and quipped: 'Ang taba taba mo.'

It felt like being run over by a train and carried to heaven at the same time. It was a proud moment for me because she obviously knows the difference of big and small. But I wished she hadn't pointed out that my hips arent exactly on the small side.

Laila's Boat

2007-05-13T23:42:00.000-07:00

Laila and I went with Daddy Alvin to the polling precinct this morning. It's the midterm election and I thought it would be helpful for Laila to get to see ordinary people helping shape the direction of the country.

She was quite excited to see 'the boht'. But when we got there, she looked confused. Looking around the fenced compound, she asked me: 'Where's the boht?'

Then I realized she thought we'd be taking a look at a 'boat' not 'vote'. So funny! I tried to explain to her that voting is where orinary people helped choose the leaders of the country but she looked distracted and uninterested. But she seemed more receptive to Daddy's explanation that the boat already left.

So when you ask her, how the vote was, she'd say 'Alis na daw.'

+++

Mother's Day yesterday went better than I thought.

I'd been expecting it to be crappy since I have to work that afternoon--a last minute briefing by Namfrel (election day happens to fall on the Monday after Mother's Day). Crap. But Namfrel rescheduled an hour later so I had more time to spend at home. An extra hour was good eniugh for me.

We set up Laila's kiddie pool at the back and spent the entire morning submerged in the cool water. Just me, Laila and Daddy Alvin. Good bonding time for the three of us. Laila splashed around, we tickled each other (Daddy Alvin did most of the tickling), we told and acted out stories about the crocodile eating Capt. Hook (which eventually became the shark eating Spiderman, Superman etc).

After lunch of my scrumptious menudo, Laila and I took a nap entangled in each other's arms.

Is there any better way of spending Mother's Day than that?

Confronting Change

2007-05-09T20:49:00.000-07:00

It's strange that Laila can be so talkative one minute and so quiet the next. She's practically as quiet as a drugged mouse when she's in an strange environment and in front of unfamiliar faces.

I understand that it's a normal reaction. I'm rather aloof myself when with an unfamiliar group. Laila actually adjusts to new situations faster than I do.

This morning we went to her new preschool, Mayfield Academy, for an assessment exam. She knows she'd be going to a 'new school', but it was only her second time to be there. And she was uncharacteristically quiet. Note that I didn't say behaved. Well, she was. She wasn't running around screaming but she didn't exactly sit motionless by my side. Instead, she moved around the room quietly inspecting every corner and what's around the corner.

My little myna bird kept her speaking prowess well under wraps for most of the assessment, giving the teacher the impression that either she's still not speaking well, she doesn't understand instructions or she refuses to follow them.

It's good that I had a chance to explain to Teacher Liway that Laila needs a while to get used to a new environment before she fully relaxes. Not that I needed to justify Laila's actions. But I felt I had to. I guess I was was overly defensive.

But, the truth is, Laila knew everything Teacher Liway asked her to do. She's just so distracted by all the new 'toys'--materials like pegs, block, rings, beads--that she wanted to try all of them at once. She'd start one activity and then move on to the next after a few minutes. Well, at least Teacher Liway recognized one trait Laila has: she's very very curious.

Laila's going to junior toddler class, most probably. Wow, my baby's growing up.

+++

Summer really is coming to an end. The first rains came yesterday. Pagasa says summer isn't officially over until maybe in the last week or so of May. But I can smell it in the air. School's about to start. Summer of 07 is drawing to a close.

I feel a little sad, about the end of summer and the start of classes. This is a familiar feeling, much the same way when I was younger and school's about to start again. It's strange I feel this way when I haven't attended school in 10 years.

Despedida

2007-05-08T23:20:00.000-07:00

I had dinner with the girls last night. It was for girlfriend Cha who's leaving tomorrow to settle down with her beau, Mark, in The Netherlands (soooo far way).

Everyone--Bev. Aries, Mav and auxiliary girls Denver and Daddy Alvin--was there except for Glen, who's at her boss' miting de avance in a galaxy far, far away. Listen in on the conversation and you'd know we aren't a bunch of carefree singles having a glorious night out.

The dominant topic was child rearing, settling down, office politics, child rearing and child rearing. The party broke off aorund 10:30, with Bev and me anxious to get home (her to the waiting pilot-hubby and me to slumbering Laila). The others went for coffee.

I felt nostalgic, looking aroud the table at these women. Mav, Bev and I are married with kids. Cha will too, soon. Glen as well. Aries, well, he's shy about discussing these things.

We started as girls partying together. Now we're women swapping battle stories of a newborn who refuses to sleep at night, the scandalous price of preschool education, the constant tug-of-war between family and career.

That dinner was supposed to be a despedida for Cha. Somehow, I felt it was a despedida for something else too. It's a despedida for a youthful, carefree past that, in all honesty, I don't regret getting past.

After a night of heavy partying years ago, I remember going home to an unlit and empty apartment and plopping down on a plain queen-sized bed. When I eased myself on the bed last night, I was careful not to wake Laila who, as usual, was hogging my pillow.

Laila's head was musty sweet and burrowed in the palm of her teensy-weensy hands, her rear protruding a little. She stirred a bit when I planted several pecks on her marshmallow soft cheeks but didn't wake.

This is my life now. And it fills me with warmth thinking about it.

Return Of Investments

2007-05-04T22:08:00.000-07:00

Laila just 'read' a whole book last night.

It was one of her favorites--The Foot Book by Dr. Seuss--and she read it from cover to cover, from the title to the 'The End'.

'Left foot, right foot, left foot, rght...Feet in the morning, feet at night...left foot right foot left foot right...' It was amazing!

I suppose she was relying on the pictures to 'read' the book, but what she 'read' really was what was written for the particular page. She memorized the entire thing. And she was also underlining the words with her fingers the way I do while I read to her.

I had to force myself to wait for Laila to finish before I praised her for reading so well. And when I did--complete with the customary clapping and kisses--Laila put her right hand to her stomach and bowed repeatedly all the while grinning like she did something naughty.

See, I have a genius and a comedian in one daughter! She likes books and she has a sense of humor.

This isn't the first time I've noticed that Laila really is interested when I read to her. She's also practically memorized 'Put Me In The Zoo' by Robert Lopshire--who, for Laila, is still Dr. Seuss. I'd read to her and deliberately stop before the last word so she can fill it in for me. She gets it right every time.

I'd be saying 'I want to go to the zoo, I want to see it yees I...' and Laila would pipe in 'do'.

Then I'd continue to the next page. 'I would like to live this way. This is where I want to...' and she'd say 'stay'. And on and on until the last page. She knows it. When I miss a page, either accidentally or because I want to hurry things along, she'd point it out to me and insist we read the page we missed.

I feel that all the previous nights I spent reading to her are beginning to pay off. She's beginning a love affair with books!

+++

There are people who don't value reading as much as others. I don't want Laila to love reading for the sake of reading or so people will admire her for loving to read so much.

I want her to read because there are so many things I cannot teach her and there are so many places I can't take her to. Books would be her ticket to those bits of knowledge and to places I have no access to.

My parents never had the patience to take me anywhere when I was little. But I traveled a lot on my own through the books I read. I want Laila to enjoy these same 'adventures'.

Daddy & Daddy

2007-05-03T02:49:00.000-07:00

Daddy Alvin is now officially an attorney-at-law.

This morning, he signed his name on the Supreme Court's official roll of attorneys. That's the final step in marking the first of his days as a lawyer. Of course, the entire process is recorded through stills taken by, ehem, his official photographer.

The event would have been more memorable, not that it wasn't, had we not ended yesterday with a spat that spilled over to this morning. Actually, I think it was just me fuming. He's been reconciliatory since bedtime.

And what, you might ask, was the reason behind World War 3?

He didn't want to drive to his signing date with the Supreme Court while I didn't want to commute. It sounds petty, but with my ability to make Mt. Everest from a mound of dirt, that was exactly what happened. I even lost sleep over it.

I was angry until the point when we were waiting at the Supreme Court's third floor corridor, sitting on filthy plastic chairs that should have no place in such an august insitution. Then came the time to start taking photos.

Daddy Alvin looked strangely dashing in the Onesimus barong he wore on our wedding day. He smiled, made faces and was funny and I, like the wuss that I am, just caved. And we were OK after that.

Where was Laila during all the action?

Last night as we were settling down to bed, Daddy Alvin told her 'Galit Mommy ke Daddy.' Instead of showing concern, I saw her eyebrows perk up in the dark. She egged me on: 'Mummy, galitan mo Daddy.' Heehee my personal cheering squad.

+++

I wished Laila was with us at the Supreme Court. Some other lawyers brought their own kids to the signing ceremony. One boy was just as old as Laila. She should be part of this important part of her Daddy's life.

We couldn't bring her along because Daddy Alvin and I still had to go to work afterward. Such a shame. Would she mind, when she's older and understands better, that we left her home on such an important day?

Laila, don't take it against us. Mommy's just gone on too many leaves recently and taking another unscheduled day off today feels wrong. And Daddy has to go to the office too. Sorry for tonight as well. We'll be coming home late. Daddy Alvin and I are going on a date.

+++

The doctor diagnosed Lolo Intoy as having kidney complications from his diabetes. They caught it early so it's easily manageable through medication. Lolo just has to strictly take his meds. I hope he follows doctor's orders.

Ate said he got into a mild argument with the doctor that ended with the doc advising him to stop getting checked up totally if he isn't prepared to fully comply with the doctor's orders. Once outside the clinic, Daddy said the doctor--a specialist in diabetes--was masungit.

Daddy's so stubburn. I think I get it from him.

Scares

2007-05-02T01:28:00.000-07:00

I've finally gotten that electrocautery treatment my OB recommended for my cervicitis.

It wasn't as traumatic as I believed it would be. But neither was it painless as my doctor and most other people say. It felt like I was being jabbed from the inside. And by the time the procedure was done, my knees felt weak under me.

But it's something I have to undergo. Either that or let the cervicitis get worse and eliminate my ability to have more children in the future.

It's a humblng experience, having to submit your whole body to someone else's care. I'd been convinced that my OB was not telling me the entire picture. I believed there was something truly damning about my condition she wasn't telling me. I was wrong.

Only after I surfed the Net for more information on cervicitis--and this was after the procedure--was I convinced that there shouldn't be cause for alarm. Apparently, cervicitis really is a common condition half of the planet's woman population experience at some time in their life. Which was exactly what the OB told me.

Of course, there's still the result of the biopsy to wait for. But I'd rather not dwell on that. No use thinking about what scares me when there's two weeks between now and getting my fears confirmed or dismissed.

+++

And speaking of what's scary...

The White Lady is no more. Laila has stopped being scared of her. But we haven't sent her a-packing yet. Daddy Alvin tweaked her a little, making her The One-Eyed White Lady.

Daddy Alvin added that 'one-eye' feature after realizing Laila was scared of a DVD cover that showed the close-up of an eye peeking from behind something. Hence, the improvement on our discipline tool. It's called recycling fellas. Why throw out a perfectly good discipline tool when you can improve it so it works like new?

It's so funny seeing Laila covering her own eyes whenever she's reminded of the One-Eyed White Lady. She quiets down and becomes more cooperative everytime. I just want to hold her and bury my nose in her hair. Oh her sweet smelling hair! She's the perfect angel during these times.

We're terrible for scaring her like this, but if it keeps her in line, so be it. We don't use these scare tactics often. Well, maybe more frequent than Laila likes it. But hey, my little girl has to learn to be cooperate at certain times. Or it's a visit from the One-Eyed White Lady for her.

Smitten Over Spidey

2007-04-26T20:15:00.000-07:00

Laila's taken to fancy a little spider she found crawling on the guestroom/Ates' room window.

When she said she'd like to take a closer look, I thought she meant she wanted to go outside, shove her face close to the spider in an attempt to stare it down and scream heartily and scamper away when it twitches just even one of its legs. But nooooo. She wanted a CLOSER look at the spider, closer meaning catching the spider and putting it inside a clear plastic container and rest her face flat on the makeshift critter prison.

I thought it was Ate's idea and I chided her for it. But it turned out it was Laila's. I couldn't even convince my little spider enthusiast to open the canister to a little to let some fresh air in. She was afraid her little friend would escape and bite whoever was closest.

I was taken aback. I never played with spiders when I was little. I adopted stray cats and a maya that fell of its nest, but I never intentionally caught something wild and against its will. I thought, and still do, think it's cruel.

And here comes Laila. Of course she's just two. I can think of a whole set of excuses for her wanting to keep it. And she is captivated by spiders as a result of adoring Spiderman. We kind of started her interest in spiders, well in 'Stiderman.' She was less than a year old in this photo and she's already wearing a 'Stiderman' shirt. All three of us were wearing Spiderman shirts the day that photo was taken.

Nevertheless, alarm bells inside my head went off. Could this set a precedent and she grows up to be cruel to animals? Will she be tormenting the neighbor's cat or frying ants with a magnifying glass?

I honestly don't think so. But I can't stop myself from obssessing over how we're raising her and what she will grow up to be. Partly to blame for my excessive worrying, I believe, is because I'm me. I worry that the sky will fall today.

And then there's my sister, who's a Single Working Mom and even lives away from her kids most of the week. And yet she seems pretty satsfied over how her kids are turning out. Well, either she's confident or work keeps her too spaced she doesn't have the energy to think about her parenting.

Ate's only girl and the second to the youngest are staying with me for the summer. She doesn't drops an occassional phone call but apart from that, she hasn't come to visit all week. Of course she' knows the kids won't come to any harm under my watch. But if it were Laila somewhere else, even if I know that she's in good hands, I'd still worry.

I consciously try to be a more easy-going Mom, I really do. I want her to grow up confident and independent after all. If only there's a way to do that in a controlled environment.

Tragic Realities

2007-04-22T23:44:00.000-07:00

I've been haunted by the image of men literally losing their heads since news boroke out that the Abu Sayyaf beheaded seven Sulu workers last Friday.

Silly me, I had to research on the subject to satisfy my curiosity. Unfortunately, there's just so much data on the Net that I got the exact information I was looking for. Imagine my horror when I viewed the videos of people being decapitated.

I saw the Nicholas Berg video and of another man. Wasn't there a controversy over the Nick Berg beheading? They say Berg, a businessman seeking work in Iraq, was already dead by the time he was decpaitated and that the act was not carried out by Islamists.

All I've noticed is that there were differences between the attack on Berg and that of the other man, an Iraqi accused of spying for the Americans I think. In the video of the unidentified victim, there is no argument that he died of decapitation.

The hooded executioner gripped the man on the crown of the head so his neck was all stretched out. The executioner then sliced his throat, neatly cutting through halfway of the neck in just three or so strokes. The executioner held the head so the blood, which clearly spurted out a few feet away, would not soil his shoes.

You could hear short, deep, belabored, breathy moans from the man until, a few more slices later, his head was severed from the body. The head was given a closeup and triumphant cheers filled the background.

I don't remember now if his eyes were closed or not. But the act of severing his head, I must say, is difficult to forget.

+++

This subject might seem out of place in this blog. But what I described above is part of our lives. Beheadings are rather rare, but they do occur. It is part of the dangers of terrorism. I do not mean to limit the tactic to Islamists. I mean all outfits, government included, that employ brutal measures to strike terror on the people to forward their agenda.

It's that world Laila and the other children have to grow up and live in. And it makes me feel helpless knowing there's nothing I can do to make the world a safer place.

You can hardly protect your children from all the cruel realities of life. You just can't. I think the best parents can do is prepare the children for the disappointments and the evils existing in the world.

They need to be tough and empowered to stand a chance in this world. The parent's job is help and guide them as long as they can.

Tears and Guilt

2007-04-19T02:11:00.000-07:00

Laila was bawling again when I left for work this morning.

It started with a little whimpering when I started my morning pre-office routine and before long developed into an emotional tearfest by the time I was getting into the tricycle.

I tried to comfort her as much as I could. I bribed her with an unscheduled reading session, taho and even a Power Rangers video. She'd be pacified for a while and then start up again.

The baby books say that she's in the stage that it dawns on her that I physically leave her. She's understood the concept of being left behind but isn't so confident yet that people who go away come back eventually. They say it's a phase young kids go through.

But I'm not sure. I'm worried that I'm inflicting permanent damage on her psycholgically. What if she grows up thinking that she's not very important to me because I always leave her at home? Or she grows up resenting me for working out of the house everyday? Does working out of the house full time make me a bad Mom?

Other working mothers would probably want to kick be in the bum if they hear my worries. Or at least want to slap me in the forehead for being so stupid, for over-reacting.

The thing is, I know that there are more working mothers than or at least as many as stay-at-home Moms. I know I am not the first working Mom to leave her child at home to the care of a Yaya. I know that Daddy Alvin and I will not be able to provide for Laila the way we do now on a single income. I know Laila will eventually grow out of it.

But knowing all that doesn't lessen the guilt of hearing her sobbing everyday, pleading 'Mummy come here. Wag ka alis! Waaaah!'

I can't stand it! My lungs swell up and my throat tightens. I find it difficult to breathe--no exaggeration.

And what's more unforgivable is how I react to all of it. Instead of comforting her, I pry off her teensy weensy arms twisted around my neck and give her to Ate. And, while she's still howling, I smile and wave pretending nothing was wrong and then get on the tricycle.

The baby books say that's the way to do it. Pretend everything is OK, smile calmly and make goodbyes short.

But it feels so wrong.

+++

I envy Moms who are full-time mothers. Let me qualify: I envy full-time Moms who chose to be that way.

I've been fantasizing about that. I imagine giving up working full time and just accept writing assignments or part-time editing work. I can always return to working full time when Laila's older.

But I'm not sure. Work has defined me for so long and so intensely that I'm not sure if I'll be the same Mom if I become a full-time Mom. The thing is, I'm terribly proud of the work I do, the places, people and events I get to experience. I think the realities of life I get to know everyday makes me a better Mom.

I want to share my experiences with Laila so all of it would enrich her as a person as well. I want her to know there's a world beyond her own, that the world's not all sunny and friendly but it's not all gloom and blood as well. I want her to be proud of me, to point to her friends 'That's my Mom.'

I feel guilty because, despite my despair over her cries and pleas, I seem to get so immersed with work that all of it doesn't bother me again until the day is about to end.

Does that make me a bad Mom?

Ahyabyoo!

2007-04-18T03:06:00.000-07:00

Ahyabyoo!

That's how Laila says 'I love you.' Aww isn't that cute!

She started learning to say Ahyabyoo about a month or so ago. Melted into putty when she first said it. Now, she's modified her Ahyabyoo to Ahyabyoo Mummy or Ahyabyoo Daddy or Ahyabyoo tu.

She's quite loquacious, to tell the truth. And I'm beginning to be convinced that she's truly processing the meaning of words and not just memorizing lines and repeating them.

Case in point. The other day, Daddy Alvin cut his finger, of course accidentally, while trying to open some package. He showed the still bleeding cut to Laila, I suppose to get some display of sympathy. What he got, instead, was a matter-of-factly 'Dahan dahan kse.'

I wanted to roar with laughter but held it in because I didn't want Laila to think I was laughing at what she said. Not because what she said was funny, which it was to me, but because it was like an adult talking.

Last night, she was playing with her microphone, twirling it about like a cowgirl preparing to lasso in a prized game. Wanting our attention, she said : 'Look o, ang galing ku!'

When I'm in front of the computer, she'd tell me: 'Kyus me Mummy, Laila's working.'

She's beginning to count beyond 20, knows her colors, most of her ABCs. But I have to admit I'm less impressed with those abilities that require memorization than her ability to link words with ideas and process those ideas by herself.

When I enrolled Laila in preschool last year, I got a lot of arguments why it's not good for babies to be sent to school too early. They say the kid could grow tired of school, or get scared of school. But looking at how Laila blossomed, I know I made the right decision.

I suppose it's normal that we as parents are facinated by our own kid's brilliance. And I'm proud to say I am no exception.

White Lady

2007-04-15T20:03:00.000-07:00

Don't you just hate local movies for the predictable story line, cardboard characters, bad acting and plot twists suspicously similar to that of another foreign film? But, we have to admit, these are the very same qualities in Filipino films that draw us to watch them.

And, last night, I've discovered another reason to watch local horror flicks: They scare Laila.

It was too early for bedtime so I let Laila sit through 'White Lady' on Cinema One last night. Admitedly, the reason I became interested in the movie was because Laila was stupefied when she saw the trailer earlier yesterday. Her wide eyes were glued on the TV, she stopped fidgeting, and even stopped chewing.

Hmm, I thought, the movie must be promising if it caught Laila's exceedingly short attention. Of course, 10 minutes inot the film I realized that there was a Grand Canyon-wide gap between my expectations and Laila's standards of an interesting film.

But no matter. Laila was sitting still on the couch, placidly opening her mouth to dinner of rice and hotdogs (so shoot me! At least she's eating something) and not running around like some sugar-pumped maniac high on caffeine. She didn't make a fuss around washtime and cooperated getting her pajamas on.

She was still talking about the White Lady this morning, and it was obvious she didn't want to do anything that would displeace the White Lady. Laila agreed to get up from bed because the 'White Lady' doesn't want her to stay in bed too late in the morning. She also allowed Ate to wash her bottom because otherwise the White Lady would do it.

I admit, I've developed a new level of respect for the White Lady as a tool for encouraging Laila to be more cooperative.

It's not a tool that child experts would endorse, I know. The resource materials I've read so far all suggest ways how to help children grow out of irrational fears like of monsters in the dark or under the bed.

Nevertheless, if the White Lady helps encourage Laila to eat, take a nap or stop spinning then White Lady will be our invisible Yaya. At least until Laila stops being scared of her.

Laila's tolerance for scary things is quite limited. She used to be scared of Buhok (some hirsute expatriate we saw on the bus from Nasugbu), of Star Wars Moomoo (Darth Maul and Palpatine), the generic monster (until she fell in love with One Eye Monster from Disney's Monsters Inc.). There's still Kuya bates (the neighbor upstairs) but you can only scare her so much using a real person.

So, until Laila grows out of the White Lady--and I'm sure she will sooner than I'd like--the White Lady will be the buzzword at home. After White Lady stops being scary, then we'll just have to come up with something else.

We all have fears. Some of them are perfectly justified some are downright irrational. Young children seem to be more susceptible to scary thoughts because they are beginning to develop an imagination but haven't mastered the skill of determining which is reality and which is not.

Experts have a long list of advise how parents could help children cope with their fears. These materials were written by Western child psychiatrsts and, while I fully agree on the soundness of the results of their studies and will , it just doesn't completely jibe with realties in the house.

I'm not too worried about Laila developing a phobia. Don't they say that small doses of an allergen would help you develop resistance? I'm confident Laila-sized scares would help toughen up my lovey.

Summer Storm

2007-04-13T02:42:00.000-07:00

Laila woke up cranky this morning.

It wasn't difficult to discern that the 'Nggggmmmm...' coming out was not adorable cooing but was, in fact, a warning for people to stay clear 15 feet of her. She slept with us in bed so that was entirely impossible so soon after waking up.

And so I got the brunt of her early morning sumpong.

Her arms were flailing all over and she hit me in the cheek, the eye, the rib. When Daddy told her to stop, she burrowed her head under the pillows, wailing in despair.

She then demanded Dede and was pacified. She was her regular charming self after that. Even when Laila threatened to cry--in her loving, pleading way--as I told her I was leaving for work, she didn't. Instead, she saw me off the tricycle with her usual contented smile, sending me off with several flying kisses.

Then around noon I called the house to see how she was, and I could hear her wailing. She was bawling; panicked shrieks. When she got to the phone, she pleaded for Mommy and Daddy to 'Come here!'

That was a first. What was going on? She sounded like she was in pain.

After a while I called again, and she was contentedly watching a video, says cousin Ann. And then, in another phone call, she chirped 'Hi Mommy, what are you doing?'

What was that? This must be what the child experts say about young children's moods, that they're like a summer storm--unpredictable, fierce and, often, pacified quickly.

+++

I recently saw a news report about a nanny slapping her two-year old ward silly, all because of chips she wanted to finish by herself. The nanny got caught on hidden camera and is now in jail pending child abuse charges. The thought of Laila being manhandled by a caretaker while I am away has been a constant worry for me.

Living where we live, I've got something better than a hidden camera to monitor the nanny's behavior: neighbors and in-laws living close by. And, throughout summer, a niece and a nephew living with us. But still.

Holy Week Blues

2007-04-11T22:36:00.000-07:00

We went home to Nasugbu for our traditional Holy Week getaway last week.

I've been waiting and dreaming for this holiday since Christmas and I was a little disapointed that it breezed by so fast I barely had time to savour it. Hardly had the extended weekend started--we left Manila before 6 am Thursday--when all of a sudden it was time to go home again (Sunday before lunch).

I really don't want to remeber Lenten holiday 2007 for my disappointment over too short a holiday, but I can't help it. I'd been salivating for the days that I could stay with Laila for a full 24 hours for far too long. And when it came, the clock seemed to tick much much faster than normal.

Oh I am a melancholy soul, I admit, pining for what I long for instead of what I already have. I just can't help it.

It's not that the vacation was not as memorable as I planned it would be. It was.

We went swimming in the beach everyday. Tthe times we weren't in the beach were spent submerged in Laila's kiddie pool. And we made fruit shakes and played games and accomplished the customary activities I've grown up with--the Friday procession and the visit to the Lumang Simbahan and the new church.

But, somehow, those four days didn't seem to be enough. Laila had caught something and was barfing and pooping without let up since Saturday so I didn't go back to work till Wednesday, and still that wasn't enough.

What is it about this job of being a Mom that I can't seem to get enough of? It can't be the gazillions of diaper changes or the endless wrestling matches Laila and I have. But then, it must be the gazillions of diaper changes and the endless wrestling matches we have. It's those lame, tedious and smelly chores that I wish I could do. It's the time I spend with Laila. Reading to her, singing to her, playing with her.

Speaks something of me that I feel cheerless after a long weekend with the family, doesn't it? Who's that who said to live for the moment? I think I've gotten too used to dreaming of spending time with Laila that when I do get to be with her, I can't enjoy it as much because I know moments like that are limited and few.

Congratulations Daddy

2007-04-03T20:18:00.000-07:00

He's done it! Daddy Alvin has passed the bar! Yahoooo!

We learned of the news from Daddy's friend Kenneth, who works for the Supreme Court. It was almost 8 pm when we heard and we were in a taxi on the way home. It felt strange, hearing the news.

I'd had a strong feeling since that morning that he would make it. I was already playing it out in my mind how I'd react if I learned of the news while I was still in the office. Daddy turned off his cell phone so no one could text him the result. He said he wants to find out the old fashioned way--from the newspaper the following day.

We've been waiting for news like this for years. Finally, after so much hard work and effort, he's got it. I thought we would be reacting more gleefully though. But it felt more like exhaustion. Something you feel after a terribly vigorous workout and you stop and your whole body feels heavy.

I guess years of wanting and hoping for and working on something can do that to you.

Daddy was outwardly elated by this morning. He left the house 6 am to visit Lolo Conring in the cemetery to deliver the good news. After so many decades, there's another lawyer in the family.

Congratulations Daddy. You finally got it. We're so proud of you.

+++

Somebody who was ecstatic last night was Laila. She was laughing, slap-on-the-knee, head-banging happy last night when we told her the news.

She doesn't grasp what it means to mass the bar, but we were all joking and laughing that she had to laugh with us.

She's sweet that way.

Tact & Preferrences

2007-04-01T22:20:00.000-07:00

I was sorting Laila's photos and I came across the shots we took on her first day at preschool. She was only as tall as my hips. Now she's at the leve of my waist.

My, how much my baby's grown in 12 months.

And she's grown not only taller but in everything else--vocabulary, comprehension, empathy, context. She knows what she likes and what she doesn't. And this little tweedlebug has no trouble or qualms letting her preferrences known.

We have a neighbor exactly her age, Bridgette, and as often as possible I match them up for a playdate. They get along well usually. But there are times--too often for my liking--that Laila seems to dislike Bridgette's company.

Laila would refuse to lend Bridgette any of her toys but she would offer the very same one to Daphne or Ate Pau, two slightly older playmates. Laila even refused to lend Bridgette one of her bubble blowers. Laila shoving her away and pulled me home saying she doesn't want to play anymore.

Last weekend, I took out the kiddie pool for the four girls. They all got along at first but as the minues ticked they began displaying "bad" behavior.

By bad behavior I mean I feel they are ganging up on Bridgette, who's very sweet and unabashed. The girls would tell Bridgette to stop whatever she was doing. Once or twice (actually it's probably more than once or twice) they each told her to go home.

Granted that Bridgette was screaming and splashing and grabbing toys. Laila, at that point, cover her ears with her hands and delicate brows would meet. But they all , at one point or another, were screaming, splashing and grabbing toys from each other.

I don't understand this playground meanness. I refuse, however, to believe that they're doing this out of deliberate meanness. Children, especially not Laila, cannot have the capacity to be mean even if their actions are. They are not aware they are mean even if they are.

There's been a lot of discussion in Oprah about this. I admit, I was afraid Laila would be bullied by the bigger kids when I first enrolled her in school. I hadn't--and still don't--seriously thought about the possibility that Laila would do the bullying.

Of course, I wouldn't call Laila's behavior as bullying. She doesn't force anything on anyone, except maybe me and Daddy. She just knows what she likes and she is not shy in making her preferrences known.

I'm actually careful not to discourage Laila from making choices for herself, even if it involves choosing which toy to share and who to shae it with. I don't want her to get the impression that she's obligated to share everything with whomever.

But I can't look at Bridgette's Mom squarely either. And I don't think she's looking at me directly as well. I guess she must be thinking I don't discipline Laila enough. I'm torn between feeling sorry for Bridgette--who in a couple of years would already mind the rejection--and wanting to encourage Laila's high-spiritedness.

I guess what I want Laila to eventually develop is tact. For the time being, I'll just have to make sure Laila doesn't get into a brawl over bubbles.

Moving Up

2007-03-26T02:19:00.000-07:00

Laila had her Moving Up Day in school last Friday.

Teacher Kerin gave her the Giraffe Award for being the biggest bloomer, she says, in the Sparrows Class. Teacher Kerin says Laila, being among the youngest in class, had been the smallest and most shy when school started. Laila couldn't talk very well at the time and she cried for a good two months before settling in.

Now, Teacher Kerin says, Laila is the tallest among the girls (She's always assigned a spot at the back during performances). And Teacher Kerin says Laila wouldn't stop talking. I'm so glad we enrolled her in a progressive school. Otherwise, Laila's fondness for talking (during class) would probably be seen as a negative trait. Teacher Kerin looked so amused telling me how my little chatterbox would tell stories non-stop during their short walk from the playground to the classroom that I'm convinced she's as amused as I am about this.

Teacher Kerin says that Laila loves imitating her as well. Teacher Kerin would tell the class, 'pack away your toys' and Laila would also face the class and tell them to pack away! And Laila loves role-playing games. Teacher Kerin says Laila loves to pretend being a carpenter, banging away in their toy workbench for long lengths of time.

And Laila loves to sing and dance and watch herself in the mirror while performing. She would break away from formation and stand in front of the mirror and continue singing and dancing there. She also loves making faces.

I can't describe how glad I am that other people actually appreciate Laila's traits the way I do.

After the ceremony, Daddy Alvin and I showed Laila our surprise--a kiddie pool that we set up at the back of the house. She went nuts over it; she insisted to get on even if we were just beginning to fill it up with water.

Other kids from the building--Ate Paula, Daphne and Bridgette--joined and they had an impromtu pool party. The Ates brought the girls lunch and I provided a snack of cookies and chocholate milk. Not healthy, I know, but it's a hit with the kids.

By the time they finished, Laila was beat. She kicked and screamed all the way to the bathroom for a shower, but fell right asleep when her head hit the pillow. I can imagine the other girls were the same, except for the kicking and screaming part.

+++

I want to remember Laila's Moving Up Day exactly how it was.

She had on her pink dress with sateen frills, her lavander princess shoes and white lacy socks with small flowers for accent. She was in pigtails that she ripped off several times before we even left the house; but in the end she left it alone.

We were so sure that the ceremony would start late like they always do that by the time we got to school, Teacher Kerin was already playing a video she made of the Sparrows on a white screen. She promised to give parents a copy.

And since we got there late, Laila hadn't gotten the time to get used to all the Mommies and Daddies and Ates present and she refused to let go of me. She even dragged me to the toddler-sized chairs reserved for the Sparrows in front. So there I sat beside Laila in the front row, crouched on the floor so I wouldn't block the view of her classmates.

Laila was also hesitant to dance with the class but she found nothing objectionable to dancing for Daddy, who she dragged to the makeshift stage with her. Instead of facing the audience, Laila paired off with Daddy. Well, if she doesn't like dancing for the crowd at so short notice...

There was a small reception for the parents and the 'graduates'. We were assigned to bring the marshmallows and the Jelly Ace (well, the jellies were my idea) and the kids loved it. Other parents brought barbeque, muffins, french fries, cookies and juice.

The reception was a good idea since it gave the kids time to say goodbye to their classmates. They will, after all, not be seeing each for the duration of summer. And, in Laila's case, I think we're moving her to another school so I want her to say goodbye and thanks to the people who was part of the second year of her life.

I especially wanted her to spend a little time with Mauro, who's sort of been her bestfriend last year. Mauro was the first classmate who she told me about. Mauro was the only classmate she ever bit. They always sat beside each other. And, a night, when I ask Laila what she did in school, she'd always say she played with Mau-Mau. Mauro is one sweet boy.

And I thanked Teacher Kerin for being such a good influence on Laila. Teacher Kerin taught Laila a lot of what my tweedlebug knows, her colors, her shapes, numbers and alphabet. I don't think I'd have the presence of mind to teach Laila all those and that's why I'm very proud of myself for sending her to preschool at 23 months.

School made her a confident and sociable toddler who loves the idea of school. She's even been asking about The New School.

So this is how a proud parent is.

Anxiety Attacks

2007-03-19T01:44:00.000-07:00

Did I say Laila was doing well with The New Ate? I think I spoke too soon.

She and Ate Daylene get along well, don't get me wrong. I've just been noticing that she's become more cranky lately. Laila easily gets irritated with Ate's presence, making a slashing motion with her arm to keep Ate away from her. She sometimes refuses to be cleaned or changed by Ate.

And this morning, when I took her to preschool, Laila refused to let me leave. She cried and vomitted and refused to let go. The only thing that saved my work clothes from getting smeared with vomit was Quick Mom Reflexes developed over several outfits ruined by vomit.

Teacher Kerin, heaven bless her, recognized the symptoms of an anxiety attack. She says Laila was exactly the same way when her previous caregiver, Ate Mari, had to leave after Christmas break. It took Laila two weeks to get used to Ate Dayene--who's already been with us two years as a maid--taking care of her instead. And now Ate Dayene's also left and she has to get used to The New Ate again.

I think it will take longer for Laila to get used to Ate Daylene. She's been with us for just a week, after all. It's good that classes are over and Laila wouldn't have to attend preschool. She can learn to trust Ate Daylene in the safety and familiarity of our little apartment and without the added pressure of getting dropped off at school.

+++

Speaking of getting used to people, I'm so glad that Laila recognizes her Lolo and Lola now. The two oldies are staying with us for a few days while they get checked up by the doctor. They're not too comfortable staying at the house so entertainment from Laila would help make their stay more enjoyable.

I was afraid that Laila would ignore them the way she does while we're in Batangas. She would look at them briefly, but she generally refuses to have anything to do with them. She even refuses to make mano. I've been wanting to show the oldies everything she's learned in school--the songs, the dances, her counting--but she refuses to perform for them.

Now, apparently, there's no need for prodding. My sister tells me that Mom was telling her about what a chatterbox my princess had been all day. This morning, while she watched her morning cartoons, Laila was dancing to whatever tune was on TV. She was dancing in front of the oldies! Hooray!

Mom says, and this isn't the first time, that Laila is so unlike me and so much like my sister. Well, no complaints there. As long as she's content and happy, I'm good with that.

The New Ate

2007-03-14T21:57:00.000-07:00

Our new Yaya, or Ate as we prefer the help to be called, reported for work yesterday. The other Ate--20-year old Dayene--is going home to Ili-Ilo to start her own family and will be leaving this Saturday. That gives Laila three days to get used to the new Ate--Daylene.

They seem to be hitting off well. I left work early yesterday and was there when the new Ate arrived. Laila eyed her warrily at first, but started engaging Ate Daylene soon afterwards. I think it helped that I was there to introduce them. I guess Laila thinks that if Ate Daylene has my recommendation then the girl can be trusted.

And, having gone to preschool, I think Laila has gotten used to seeing strangers from time to time, what with some Mommies and Daddies popping in for a look-see what their kids are busy with. Maybe Laila is also in that stage where she doesn't eye strangers with as much suspicion as she did before.

As I've said in an earlier post, that worries me a little. She seems to be a little too friendly. While I want her to grow up confident, unafraid of people and with a healthy interest in other human beings, I want her to learn that she can't always trust strangers. That's a key to surviving urban life. I might sound like I'm teaching her not to trust people here. But I only want her to have a healthy fear, or at least warriness, of people she doesn't know. The crimes we hear about everyday and suffer from time to time should be enough justification for my concerns.

But going back to the new Ate, she and Laila only have three days (and counting!) to get used to each other. Laila's a little playful. The new Ate said she's taken cared of other kids, both younger and older, and she doesn't think it'll be too hard taking care of my little bundle of unstoppable energy. They seem to be hitting off well. She and Laila were already playing together last night and Laila was sitting close to Ate Daylene while I prepared for work this morning.

I hope Ate Daylene stays longer though. We've already had at least five Ates babysitting Laila since she was born. Aside from two--we terminated one because she's takes extended weekends off while another went on an unannounced three-day holiday with her girlfirend--we had good relationships with the Ates.

Laila is particularly fond of Ate Mari, who had gone home to Samar to take care of her own 3 young daughters. Laila still remembers that Ate Mari kissed her in the underarm--something I do everyday as part of my going to the office ritual--before boarding the taxi that will take her to the bus station.

I am terribly indebted to the Ates. Without them, I wouldn't be able to continue working the way I do. And without work, Laila and I wouldn't enjoy the same lifestyle we do. Let's face it. In the Philippines, a one-income household is good only for subsidizing the basics. If I don't work, we wouldn't have extra spending money for the so-called 'luxuries' like Laila's new doll or books or art and crafts materials. Really, those are the only real luxuries Daddy Alvin and I are keenly interested in these days.

But what I don't like about having an Ate is that Laila has gotten used to having things done for her. Cousin Claire wrote about teaching her two-year old Marcus to help with the chores by letting him pick up his toys. Laila sometimes helps pack away her toys when I tell her. But most of the time she acts as if she doesn't even hear me. She has this 'Huh? Who? Me?' look when I tell her to pack away her stuff.

I don't want Laila to grow up not knowing or, worse, not wanting to do things for herself. I don't like house chores either. But, outside the house, I am quite adept at surviving and thriving. Laila might not enjoy working inside the house either when she grows up, but as long as she's not a bum and is spending her time productively elsewhere, then I wouldn't have any objections.

Empathy

2007-03-13T19:33:00.000-07:00

I've been worried that, being an only child (so far) Laila would grow up self-centered, selfish, spoiled and uncaring. After all, that's the image of an 'only' most of us know.

Parents of other onlies would certainly disagree with the generalization since many onlies have become or already are responsible and caring individuals even as children. And, after last night, I am convinced that Laila would be one too. She already is, in a way.

You see, I've been fretting over a possible ailment that I have. I say possible because my OB still has to do some tests to confirm if I have something to worry about or not. I was obviously distressed last night and was not as playful. I felt I had to explain to her why we couldn't play as much as we usually do before bedtime. I told her we should go to bed early, adding that 'Mommy is sad because Mommy has to go to the doctor and get an injection.'

She cannot comprehend 'worried' but understands the concept of 'sad' and 'injection' so I know she would get the idea why Mommy is sad. And she did! In a voice that sounded like she was pleading, Laila said: 'No Mommy. Wag tusok tusok, find Nemo lang. It's OK Mommy.' After that she wrapped her arms around my neck and cuddled so close I wondered if she could still breathe.

That blew me away! 'Tusok tusok' is her word for injection, which she periodically undergoes during visits to the pedia. And 'find Nemo' is her term for a regular pedia visit where she doesn't have to get a vaccine shot. She was trying to pacify me!

Hala! My daughter, my tiny, precious, little baby knows empathy! I'm soooo proud!

I've been reading up on onlies but I can't seem to remember much. One article about teaching empathy to your child struck me though. I wanted her to grow up being a responsible, nationalistic Filipino and I wanted her to truly care for other beings. Last night I became confident that she would.

Another thing I remember is that the experts are advising parents of onlies to expose their child to other people and children as much as possible. This is to introduce the idea that there is a world outside the parents and the home. And being exposed to other people lets them started in understanding the concept of getting along with others.

We live in a close commnity but the kids--mostly onlies like Laila--don't usually spend a lot of time playing outside their own homes. But I believe even the short episodes of interaction with them and the other yayas have been beneficial to Laila. She calls them all 'Ate'. We trained Laila to call her Yaya Ate instead, our way of teaching her that even househelpers are part of the family.

Now, my next concern is teaching her the concept of strangers. It's something to be friendly with people, but I want her to learn to be cautiious of strangers. She easily gets comfortable with certain people and I want to make sure she doesn't get comfortable with the wrong ones.

I've introduced the concept of the 'bad lady' and 'kidnapper' to her, thanks to the Cruella de Ville and her two henchmen in 101 Dalmatians. The next months will be reiforcing and refining those ideas.

Hello Hello

2007-03-13T02:38:00.000-07:00

Hello. Is anyone there? I would suppose not. Or at least not yet. This is very new after all.

Let me start by describing what this space is about. It's about sharing a wonderful life with my sparkly little Laila. You guessed correct. I am a first-time mom to two-and-a-half year old Laila. She might not always be sunshine, but she certainly brightens up my day--or what remains of it after a full day of office work--even when she is acting every bit of the preschooler she is.

Why do I need to post my thoughts about Laila and my life with her in the first place?

It's natural for parents to be proud of their kids. And I am very proud of Laila for everything that's she's learned these past months in preschool and at home. Every little thing like learning how to skip or blow bubbles or jump sideways or walk backwards. She also knows her numbers and ABCs and colors. Who knew that being able to distinguish a circle from a square would be so much fun! It's incredibly new and exciting for me as it is for her. And I need to write it down. I'm afaid I'd forget if I don't.

And I also want to talk about what a wonderkid Laila is. All parents think their baby is a wonderkid and I'm proud to say I'm no exception. The catch here is that there are very few people you can truly share your thoughts about parenthood with. You discuss parenting too intensely and some people would think you're weird. Others would have very strong opinions on parenting styles that might clash with your own. And still there are others who are simply not interested in constantly hearing about your kid.

Hence, this spot.

Here, I can talk about Laila endlessly; like how she likes to dance to Boom Tarat Tarat even if I outwardly don't approve of it. But here's a secret: I am so proud of her everytime she sashays to the beat of that goddam song. She's like a small version of the marshmallow man that the Ghostbusters fought in the original movie. Very plump and juicy. I want to eat her up as every bit of her jiggles to the tune of Boom 'Tawat Tawat'...

And here, I can preserve my thoughts so she can, in the future, read my posts and know how much she means to me. Laila has become my life. I'm obssessed with her. I didn't think I could love anyone this much until she came. And I want her to know it.

As she gets older, I'm sure we'd be having our differences. We already do. In fact, we just had a spat the other night when she demanded another Jelly Ace before bedtime when I already said she couldn't have any more. As the years go by, I'm sure those spats would become more frequent and more intense. And I'm afraid I'd get swallowed by the moment and forget to let her know how much I love her.

I hope this spot would tell her for me in case I forget or am unable to tell her personally.