1 Sympathy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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...?

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

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

'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'

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

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.

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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!'