This is the new face of a bad mother.
Take a very good, hard look at it. It could you be you. And maybe you don't even realize it. Yesterday I was judged. It's temporary, they said. Three weeks, they said. It's "nothing," they said. What is three weeks to very young children? What do you say to our very young children? Who is caring for them? No answer. There was no order for him to be answerable to me. And yet, we are not supposed to be stripped Of our right to parent.
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For those uneventful, untold parts of our lives.
For those we want to live vicariously through others because the opportunities have long been missed. For those we are afraid to live. So keep on telling them. Keep putting them out there. In the hopes that someone else might get to live that story for you. A learning moment from my childhood happened during a younger cousin's 3rd birthday party. I put in a lot of work. Maybe even from a child's perspective - all the work. All my eggs in one basket. I wanted so badly to win a prize from the raffle contests my aunt was preparing for the party. Just one prize - that was all it would take to make me happy. So I spent the entire day prior sorting, putting bags of candies together, and tying ribbons. I've done my part, 100%. Surely I would win something tomorrow.
About a couple hours into the party, the contests began. To a six-year old, it seemed like all the names in the world were getting called, except mine. It did not make any sense to me. I put in all the work. How could I walk away with nothing? Nothing but the same lousy balloon that everyone else got. I threw a tantrum. I clearly remember the skirt of my dress wallowing in defeat on our linoleum floor. Somebody make me win something, please!! I remember more clearly the expression on my Lolo's (Grandfather's) face. He was looking directly at me. Not with judgment, not with frustration, not with guilt, and certainly not with pity. His elbow was folded, a finger was on his temple, in a thinking posture. It seemed he was waiting for a lightbulb to turn on in my head. When I locked into his focused eyes, the light went on. And it stayed on, until today. This grandfather of ours, our Lolo Eling - my cousin Karen and I speak about how we particularly adore him, and wish he were still around to tell us the story of his life. Lolo, you did more for me than you might have ever realized. I hope we can follow in your remarkable footsteps, because I believe that we will only find more reasons for our upheaval. Today at our children's preschool, the 3-5 year-old's had a little Christmas presentation. It was our 3-year old Stella's first. She missed some rehearsals, and so she wasn't really singing any of the eight partial songs they had lined up. Either she knew the words to sing and did not want to, or she just did not know them at all. It's hard to tell with that child sometimes.
I will explain why I say so, with one example also from today. After their little concert, we waited for the special guest to arrive. Boy, their Santa Claus was awesome! His suit was luxuriously beautiful I truly wanted to touch it. His beard was real, his belly seemed real, his glasses were on point, and his ho-ho-ho was theatrically bonafide. Each of the children got to sit on Santa's lap, receive "his present," and tell him what they wanted for Christmas. We let Stella have her moment with him, and I so I don't believe my husband or mom listened to what she told him. In the car ride back to the preschool, we asked her, "Stella, what did you ask Santa for Christmas?" At first she said, "Uhm a pink...!" And then I prodded again, "Did you tell Santa something else?" She says, "I asked him for food for us." We laughed, and my husband said, "We have ridiculous amounts of food at home." Very true. Reason to why I'm currently on diet mode. Tonight at bed time, I told her a story as part of their routine. I had promised Hansel and Gretel. This will be her first repeat of this tale, and I know there will be more requests for it. For now, I stick to the simplified versions of fairy tales. Even though I don't agree on saying, "and they lived happily ever after," I finish them that anyway. Just to get her feet wet in the world of the classics. In this Hansel and Gretel version, their Mama forces their Dad to scheme on taking the children out for a walk in the forest, and leaving them to get lost. Why? Because they barely have any food to eat. The Mama did not want to starve, so her solution was to get rid of Hansel and Gretel. Despite this simplistic version with the happy ending, I redeem the story by making sure to emphasize how clever and smart Hansel and Gretel were. They outsmarted the witch, Gretel pushed her into the oven at the most opportune moment. And then they found a treasure chest in the witch's home. They take this back to their Papa, who was so happy to see them and asked for their forgiveness. Conveniently, the Mama had fallen ill and died before they came back home. I told Stella that they shared the treasures with their Papa, and because of that, they were able to keep their home and never went hungry again. As I finish the story in the dark, I could still see her eyes. Very. Wide. Awake. Naturally, she begs for another story: Rapunzel. My story of Rapunzel also has the contrived happy ending. The setup in the beginning is what matters though. So Rapunzel was in her Mama's tummy, waiting to be born. But her parents were so poor. Too poor, that they only had a few potatoes left to eat. Food was scarce. The husband decides to steal from the vegetable garden next door, knowing that who lived there was a mean old witch. The witch catches them. As she finds out that the woman was with child, she promised to take the baby away when it was born. Fast forward to Rapunzel growing up lonely, and locked up in the tower. To finally being with her prince against all odds. As I reflected upon today, I realized why Stella asked Santa for food. It obviously was not because we are starving. It was because she did not want her, or her family to starve. How do I know this? It's also because every time I tell her that I feel unwell, she asks, "So will I get a stepmother now?" Where does she get that? Cinderella. Snow White. The stories we can universally credit for the bad stepmother archetype. Right. I've done some damage to my child. But, I'm glad she gets it. She understands that starvation causes conflict. In her own little way, she understands that losing a parent means she just might get a step-parent, and that may cause complications and hardship in her life. Closing 2018, while living between the bubbles of the San Francisco Bay, and the Greater Sacramento Areas (both of which are comparatively affluent), I once again realize how much I have to be thankful for. Food to eat. A beautiful family. A biological mother. And a stepmother, albeit the kindest one you can ever, ever have. Nary any life-threatening conflicts. Some hardships, sure. The middle class kind. Of the kind in a first-world country: preschool costs, transportation costs, utility costs. Our poverty in terms of time. We're too busy making a living. But many other parts of the world could only wish that they had our set of problems. Instead of their life-threatening hardships. The scarcity, the starvation that kills people, and makes the few left behind go mad, and kill some more people. If I don't learn to see the world the way my children do, then I think that negates the reason why God let me have them. If one day we could all magically see things from a child's point of view, we just might eradicate hunger, poverty, and other tangible hardships. With a sense of urgency. Just like that. Next time a child talks, try to really listen. Stella turned 15 months last October 12th. It's easier to remember, and to say that she's 1, but I understand that at this age, each month is a big milestone for children.
I thought I'd make a milestone time capsule for Stella, by documenting some of the words she can say on a regular basis. She seems to understand what these words mean, as she says them back to us in within the context, or uses some of them to communicate what she wants. I'll try to update this if I realize there are more words that she actually knows. cheese /chees!/ - as my husband says, "To my daughter, everything good is cheese. Somehow, I resonate with that." more /moh/ - I have a heard time weaning her from bottles of warm formula made by our Baby Brezza, still up to a couple of times in the middle of the night. How can you resist a cute little person, quietly walking up to your bedside, shaking her empty milk bottle at you, saying "moh"? bird /behr/ - one of the first words she spoke, thanks to my Mom taking her out in the backyard and showing her the birds. moon /muh/ - how we try and trick her to say good night to the moon, and fall right asleep! Doesn't usually work because the moon hasn't been showing up until after 9pm these nights. cap /kap/ - from a silly book titled "Caps for Sale!" milk /meehmeeh/ - I used to sing her the "milky-milk" song. This is the new short-cut to communicate the need for, well, milk spi(der) /spah/ - she better not cry "spah" when I'm not around and she's with my husband. He's terrified of these critters! And she seems to spot them pretty quickly! sit /sht/ - bubble /ba-boh/ - somehow, we come home with three bottles of play bubbles from her birthday party last July. Three. Bottomless. Bottles. Noble /boble/ - our beloved 6-year old Doberman Pinscher. He is a very good dog to her, and she loves him. She's been saying his name upon waking, and also upon arriving home from daycare. mango /mangho/ - she loves these cut up in squares. Her favorite were the blueberries, but seems to now also be mangoes, apples, and watermelon. Really almost anything! apple /appoh/ - hopefully this keeps the doctor away! two /tooh/ - she can kind of count, from two, straight to... six /siz/ - siz! pin /pin/ - I don't think this is a word we've taught her directly. One day, she pointed to Nick's pin on his shirt, and said, "pin." flower /fowehr/ - again, thanks to my Mom for taking her outdoors and calling out what they see owl /ow/ - a frequent presence in her baby board books. I think she likes when we say, "hooo, hooo" rabbit /wabbit/ - another animal she remembers from board books shark /shahr!/ - that's right! Another one we all hope she doesn't cry out in real life. crab /crah/ - her favorite bathtime toy. I usually sing, "Pinch, pinch, pinch, pinch, pinch-pinch-pinch! Pinch! Pinch! Pinch! Pinch! Pinch-pinch-pinch!" fish /fsh/ - another bathtime toy. And food we eat. octopus /oc/ - I can't blame her, it's a difficult word to pronounce. Not to mention this bathtime toy of hers only has (7) and not (8) tentacles. come /come/ - she made clear that she knew what this word meant. Last night, as I was trying to put her to bed, she ran out of her room. At the end of the hallway, she stood staring at me, while I was at her door. I said, "come", and she extends her arms, with her fingers, motions towards her, and said, "come, come." Oh, and with that glint in her eyes! no /no!/ - of course, one of the first words she's learned. sky /skah/ - my mom calls our skylight the "sky window." I think this is how she learned this word. hi /hi!/ - she can be very cute with people, when she says "hi!" bye /bhay!/ - and also when she says "bye!" Nowadays, when my husband leaves the house, she says "bye!" go /go!/ - last week, Nick said, "Ok, I'm gonna go now." She responds, "go!" giraffe /jhi/ - her favorite animal, it seems. She was apparently fixated at the giraffes in the zoo. I would love to get her the standing one! monkey /mohni/ - also learned from the book, "Caps for Sale." There was a bit of monkey business there, and she seemed to enjoy their mischievousness. opo /opo/ - Filipino way of saying "yes" to those older than you are. My Mom taught her this too. pig /her own snorting sound/ - she likes to kiss her piggy banks "good night". And she does the snort very, very well. tita /tita/ - she knows four Titas ("aunts"): Katrina, Coleen, Gabby, and Jill. My loves as well! Sure, perhaps this is a little bit of me boasting. What parent wouldn't be elated with a child that is really beginning to talk the same words? But really, at the end of the day, I just love how much of an amusement Stella is to our household. I know she's my child so I have to love her, but, damn I love that child! I slept to a piece of extremely sad news last night. And I will do so again tonight.
One of our couple friends was pregnant with their first child together. Was is the operative word. My husband tearfully told me last night of how they lost their son at the 35th week of pregnancy. I was shocked. I cried. I cried some more today, and I cry as I am writing this. How is that possible? Our friend, the guy in particular, had wanted a baby for so long. They would definitely be capable parents. They already are, to two beautiful girls. They were good people. Why do terrible things happen to good people? I think this is a question that has gotten kicked down the road of over a million lifetimes. We are free to have choices, but then we are also subject to circumstances. Beyond our control. Beyond our understanding. A friend once told me of how difficult of a journey they had trying to conceive. They finally had a daughter, but that was after three miscarriages and one ectopic pregnancy. He was on the conservative side of the fence for that reason. He muses at the imbalance of unwanted pregnancies that end in abortion, in the face of people who want to have children so badly. I feel that way right now. My second, and current pregnancy is almost at 22 weeks. This was an unplanned pregnancy, and regardless of the outcome, I am glad that my husband and I chose to keep the baby. Approaching the 10th week, we had a big decision to make, believe it or not. To keep or not to keep. We tried to be logical: "but we're not ready to have another one," "I wasn't exactly in the best physical health and shape," and "how are we going to afford this?" My realization came in a challenging question to myself: "Is this what life is all about? What we are not prepared to do? What we cannot afford to do?" Then and there, I knew the right decision was to keep the pregnancy. Now my only hope in light of this event is that my pregnancy continues to remain otherwise healthy. I have so much to be thankful for. I feel so much guilt as well for even having to pause and not have an unequivocal answer to start, about whether to keep this baby or not. To my future baby Maximilian, please forgive me for doubting that I could care for you. I am beyond grateful that my womb was blessed enough to carry your big sister Stella, and now you. Your Dada and I cannot wait to meet you. For as long as God will let us borrow both of you, you shall have my heart entirely. A hectic, hectic, hectic day.
Today I had a noon bid deadline at work today. On top of other scheduled meetings. And other impromptu meetings. And many, many other questions. Other extraneous roles. And a baby who is back to waking 2-3 times at night. Yet I still embrace all of it. I jaunt out of the office at 430pm, because I need to get to daycare by 530. Before 530pm is really preferred. I get there and the daycare lady said my husband forgot to drop off payment this morning, and really it's due every Tuesday of the week. They don't take credit cards, nor checks. And we don't regularly visit the ATM. That task is always a screeching halt to your momentum - like that someone paying at the register with an old-fashioned check, in the Visa commercial. Finally I have Stella in the car, and I realize she is down to four pouches of baby food. I try to tell myself we'll feed her whatever we eat. But tiny salad bites will not be filling enough for her growing body. And I'm a fool to think I'll have time to cook and bake her solid finger foods tonight. So I make a Target run with her, doing my due diligence with the cart wipes before plopping her into it. She decides the cart ride is not bumpy, or exhilarating enough for her (she's barely 11 months, by the way), and tries to stand up a few times. As I've had to carry her half the time, I just try to get out of there. Thirty minutes and done! My quickest Target run! I can't forget to tell you though, is how I had to keep her curious baby mind entertained at the long register line. She keeps pointing to things. She wants things in her hands. I look around, and decide she will only tear up magazines. She cannot have gum. She cannot have candy. But a candy bar sounds kind of good to me. Sheepishly I hand her a Snickers bar, confident that her fingers are not strong enough to tear through the wrapper, and feeling victorious that I would have a snack on the drive home. I deserved a Snickers bar. I ate it without guilt.* *Only half of it. I gave the other half to my mom. Tag: working mom, not sleeping parent, tired mom, new mom All of us -- this said to assure myself I'm OK -- tend to procrastinate something, a few things, or everything. I am admitting that this is one of my faults. I even dedicated a college research paper on the topic of procrastination. Writing the paper, of course, took some procrastination on my part.
Nick was laughing so hard. We just finished with the OB-gyn at what I though was going to be our last appointment before I deliver our baby girl. The doctor thinks there's a better chance that I deliver later than earlier or on time. Nick thought it was funny that the baby could theoretically be about 8 lbs and 5 oz, while I was hoping she would be a more average 6.5 lbs. By the way, I'm 4'11", and my starting weight was about 100 lbs, and now I'm at about 133 lbs. Mostly belly. Small person, smaller frame. My friend Trisha just texted, "OMG!!! Ouch!"
Maybe it's funny. Maybe it's not. Maybe it's normal. Whatever it is, I'm trying to distract myself with this blog project. Finally got to it! Today is officially my first day on maternity leave [rejoice!] It's scary leaving the fully-employed world, but I also now have a most important task to do: become a mommy. In order to prepare myself for that, I've written this on my journal. Of course, this was assuming my strategy would not be foiled by mother nature. You see, I started my maternity leave exactly on a 6-day countdown to my due date, which is July 2nd. If she comes on time, then I hopefully would have done everything on this list. If she comes early, I hopefully would have done most of these. And if she comes late, then I hopefully could double up on these. Here are my goals: One day of San Francisco (happy to report, I completed this today by taking my Mom out to see the city!) One day of really purging and organizing: I will be installing a second car seat base in my car, and I'd love to clean my car and get ready for that. Oh, thank you notes have to be sent out too! One day of watching anything One day of art One day of pampering One day of reading Let's see how it goes! |