Shared via AddThis

every inch of my being wanted to shout. for joy. for victory.

i have been proven right. again.

repeatedly, I end up being proven I am right. no matter how I tried to deny it in the past. I had known, I had refused to listen, but I was right.

as expected, he denied all allegations. that it was just a juicy bit of gossip. but deep down, we both know that we know the truth is out. i had reached out to him in order to convey a message: that whatever happens, leave the anti-life option out of the picture.

i have found the final dot.

time to move on. victory is bittersweet.

but i cannot seem to place the final dot. you are a stubborn face that refuses to leave my dreams… will you please stop pickin’ on me? 

i have tried to bury your memory and the pain you have caused me in heaps of debris collected from everyday trivialities. i have tried to forget how you raised my hopes and dashed them to pieces again and again and again.

i have tried to pretend that whatever it was we had was only a figment of my imagination. oh, how I how tried! alas, to no avail. 

yes, it is never easy.  

and time? time will not heal it. time will only allow my heart to get used to the numbing ache. 

“Love is so short, forgetting is so long.” (Pablo Neruda)

People who know me well see me as an idealist. For me, I am an idealist and a dreamer. I dream of a good life, for me and my kid. Just what is a good life, pray tell? Good is such a minimalist adjective.

To elaborate, a good life for me means having shelter, having our basic needs met, and occasionally indulge in a few luxuries, and most important having the means to sustain myself and my daughter. Right now, I worry about the last part. But a good life for me is that plus love, happiness and contentment.

Take note that I said a good life, not a better life. This means that despite my worrying regarding the last part, I am content with what we have right now. We have shelter. We have food. And most importantly, we have family. And in this family, deep in my heart, I believe we love each other.

Love is such a profound word. In my life, I’ve loved only once. No question about it. I want to say, I’ve loved twice, but right now, my hypothalamus and my cerebrum are at odds with each other. Hypothalamus says, “It was love!” Ms. Cerebrum, on the other hand insists it was a form of rebellion on my part (let’s not delve deeper into it least we have to involve my id, ego and superego, which, will complicate matters further and make this story longer). So I say, I’ve loved only once.

I only want simple things in life. As simple as a life full of love. I love my daughter. But love alone will not give her something to eat. It can’t send her to school. It can’t help her fulfill her own dreams. Someday, I hope to see her reach the pinnacle of her life, saying that she is what she had become because of her mom (read: my love and support to her).

But I have my fears. I fear the unknown. And the future is unknown to me. I fear my daughter will tell the whole word I had been a lousy mom. I fear she will castigate me for not giving what is due her. All I can offer her is love, and love is not enough to survive in this big, bad world.

I dream of a good and happy life with my daughter. I want to keep her, be a mom to her, be a friend she can lean on, see her grow up into a beautiful lady, be proud of her and her accomplishments, but most of all, I just want to love her and spend time with her.

But can love overcome my fears? Or is letting her go a way to show that I truly love her? It is after all for her best interest. She will be with someone I know, someone who can give her a good life, send her to the best schools, develop her potential by financially supporting her, someone who has more than love to offer. Someone who lives in the land of milk and honey.

Will I be doing the right thing by sending her to a foster parent? Will she have a good life there? Will she be well-taken cared of, better than I could? Will she be brought up in the right way? Will she be happy? Will she grow up to be a person who her parents will be proud of?

I just have so many questions. And I don’t have any answers. No assurances, no security, no guarantees, just those questions.

My mom says, God will make things right for me and for my daughter. That whatever I will decide, He, the all-knowing, omnipotent, merciful Father will make things right.

I only hope to arrive at a decision before it’s too late for everyone concerned.

But I am also a stubborn pragmatist.

I am afraid of what I will decide because this matter does not only involve me but someone I love so much. I am afraid to make another mistake. I am afraid of what she will become because of what I had done.

I am afraid of myself. For me, and for Yessa.

Will I be able to conquer my fears and live a good life?

Will love really conquer all?

I wish I have a crystal ball where I can see the future. But I only have my spectacles, and time, in my hands. I have Yessa for now, too, and I plan to savor each and every moment I spend with her. Because of her, life has been good.

I find the idea of commenting anonymously at the least peculiar but at most annoying. Why leave a comment on somebody’s blog then sign it anonymous? If I believe in one thing enough to comment on, I’d put my name on it, declaring I stood by what I believe in. If I comment “cute babe”, “fabulous hair”, etc., I’d sign with my name to show that the admiration or appreciation came from me, and not from someone unknown to the blog owner.

Oh, okay so maybe there are times that we accidentally tripped the comment anonymously checkmark; yes, it could happen. But that isn’t what I’m talking about. I’m talking about deliberate, thought-about-beforehand commenting anonymously.

I can think of only ONE reason why people comment anonymously:

• obviously they would like to keep their identities secret (chances are they are probably someone you know)

But why keep your identity a secret? Is it to avoid having an unpopular opinion associated with you (and quite possibly avoiding losing subscribers to your blog as a result)? Or is it have the license to use bad language and drop the niceties of common courtesy? Or both?

Silverwhisper has something to say about this. Quote: I won’t go as far as to assume that all who comment anonymously are cowards, as they are described over at slashdot (the precise term over there is “anonymous coward”, or simply AC), because it assumes a certain degree of bad faith on the part of people who do post anonymously, and as i said, i don’t understand it so making such assumptions seems, at the very least, premature and prejudicial. Unquote.

That being said: OK, so maybe it’s just me. I’m curious and I got my opinions. Granted I gave out particularly unpleasant reasons, but I did say I didn’t understand it. So if you do comment anonymously, can you share your reasons for doing so?

Do you sleep with the TV on?
never

Eye color?
dark brown

Worst fear?
i fear the unknown, i fear when plans go wrong, i fear what i do not know…

Are you attractive?
uh yeah!

What do you want for Christmas?
scrapbook materials.

Missing someone now?
Yeah. Loads.

How are you feeling today?
Lonesome. yessa’s with my sis today.

What are you looking forward to?
fun time with yeng.

Can you handle the truth?
knowing the truth is better than being lied to. i’d pick the truth all the time, no matter how painful it could be…

How many kids do you plan on having?
two.

What do you do when no one is watching?
What do you expect me to say? Yes! I pole-dance!

Are you in love?
No. Not really.

Do you talk to yourself?
a lot. mostly in my mind though.

Three of your favorite tv shows:
Prisonbreak, CSI, and CSI New York

Three things about the opposite sex that appeal to you:
personality, athletic bod, sincerity

What is your favorite color?
blue

What is the last movie watched?
You, me and dupree… ewww!

What song do you currently listen to?
gugmang gi-atay (sorry, can’t translate)

Would you ever date anyone on your friends list?
Maybe.

Are u photogenic?
They say i am.

What time do you go to bed?
11.30pm on average.

What was the last thing you did before this?
talk on the phone with my mom

Who’s the one you always meet the most?
My sister and sister-in-law

Who’s the person you’ll call if you need help?
my mom

What’s on your mind right now?
i gotta get back to my abs routine, and hopefully stick to it.

With whom do you wanna be with to have fun?
yessa, joko, friends, frenemies alike

What movie do u wanna watch now?
The Wickerman

When was the last time you went out? Where?
Last Sunday with Yessa at San Jose.

What do you do everyday besides eat and sleep?
Listen to music, blog online, sing nursery rhymes to yessa, send SMS…

Colors that make you happy?
blue, pastel colors

Most fave thing in your room?
My stereo, my bed, my dresser…

Miss someone?
Yup.

Plan to buy something?
a Prince 03 Pure White tennis racquet

Are you satisfied with your life now?
Nuh uh.

Is kissing normal for your age?
definitely

Are you athletic?
oh yeah!

Have you ever fallen asleep in class?
What elso do you do in class, pray tell?

Dear Yessa,

These days that I see you playing across the room from me, the moment is so surreal and beautiful. There you are, my beautiful baby playing, laughing, clapping, dancing… There you are busy forming your own little world separate from me, and in moments like this, I find myself selfishly interrupting you as if to remind you that yes, Nanay is here with you.

One year ago today, I haven’t been expecting you but once I learned about your teeny-weeny existence, I have loved you and cherished you. For you and because of you, I took good care of my body, watched what I ate, did my preggy workouts with enthusiasm, and even when I was working I had you in my mind always. While you were still inside my tummy I talked to you, sung to you, read to you, even if you can’t see me I know you can hear me. You are my little precious and I love you so much.

The knowledge that you are with me and in me made me see life in a different light. I savored those moments when I feel all the movements you were making inside my womb—that first flutter, that first strong kick, and then those very vigorous movements where I imagine you were hitting some tennis balls on a wall. I have been asking you to help me when it is time for you to come out and join me in this world, and you did. After three tries, you were out and said hi with a lusty cry!

From the very first moment when they placed your warm body onto mine to the most recent moment today when you nuzzled your sleepy head against my chest, I realized how truly blessed I am to experience your love.

Your innocent love is so genuine and raw, and you express it in ways that only your mama can appreciate. I recognize your love for me when I see your eyes light up at the simple sight of me entering a room. I feel the love in your laughter and hums of happiness, and I recognize your love for me when you find comfort in my arms.

Your future is full of hope and brimming with endless possibilities. When I think about the future, I wonder what kind of person you will be. Will you be shy and determined? Or will you be funny and rambunctious? Or will you be a beautiful combination of both? Time will only tell, but for now I am content knowing that you are growing your own wings, preparing yourself for an amazing journey. I await the day that you’re ready to fly on your own with a bittersweet mixture of emotion. Regardless of the path you take, always remember that I will be here for you when you need to retreat home.

Today I revel in the fact that I am your mama, your everything. Each moment with you is a gift of future memories waiting to be honored. I hope never to forget what it feels like to have you fall asleep in my arms, your heavy breathing a sign of your complete surrender to slumber. I hope never to forget the happiness I feel when I pluck you from your crib each morning, your body sleepy and warm, your face happy to greet the day.

Over the years our relationship will grow and change, and yes, there will be times when you will want your distance from me. And in those times I will remember, I will cherish these moments of today. These moments when I am your everything.

Thank you, Yeng. Thank you for trusting me and loving me unconditionally. Thank you for letting me be your mama. [Thank you Lord for giving me Yessa.]
Happy 1st Birthday!

Love you forever,
Nanay

”There are people who will always come up with reasons why you can’t do what you want to do. Ignore them.”

”Life will sometimes hand you a magical moment. Savor it.”

”Life is a process. We are all works in progress–green tomatoes ripening on the windowsill of life.”

”If you want to do something and you feel in your bones that it’s the right thing to do, do it. Intuition is often as important as the facts.”

”Remember the three Rs: Respect for self; Respect for others; Responsibility for all your actions.”

”Love deeply and passionately. You might get hurt, but it’s the only way to live life completely.”

”Don’t overlook life’s small joys while searching for the big ones.”

”Remember that great love and great achievements involve great risk.”

”Spend your life lifting people up, not putting people down.”

”Remember that what’s right isn’t always popular, and what’s popular isn’t always right.”

”In business or in life, don’t follow the wagon tracks too closely.”

”Remember that ignorance is expensive.”

”Learn the rules. Then break some.”

”There is no better time than right now to be happy. Happiness is a journey, not a destination.”

”Encourage anyone who is trying to improve mentally, physically, or spiritually.”

”Remember that half the joy of achievement is in the anticipation.”

”Work like you don’t need money, love like you’ve never been hurt, and dance like no one’s watching.”

I always put the cookie jar by the side table in the dining room in order that I can easily access it when needed. Yessa can reach it by standing on her tiptoes but the jar is a bit heavy for her to carry and she can’t open it on her own.

Now Yessa’s cousins have come visiting yesterday and the kids had a blast just being kids. At times, cries of “mama” can be heard above the noisy racket they were making and we adults would take turns sneaking a quick look to see if they have discovered the art of killing yet. Thank goodness, Hezbollah won’t be hiring them for now.

Just to give you an idea, the kids are ages 8 years, 4 years, 24 months, and 16 months old.

Among them, the 8-year-old is the lone boy in the group. He has elected himself the girls’ leader, president, king, you get the drift. They were having the fun of their young lives.

Going back to the pack of Nestle’s Kitkat, Yessa has only eaten 4 pcs out of 24. I’m sure you know arithmetic and have figured out how many pieces there were left. 20, that’s right.

Another information: our family loves to eat chocolates. The eight-year-old boy would consume whatever chocolates he could put his icky hands on. So would the little girls. But so would my dad, my sis, my sis-in-law, my brother and me. I especially love dark chocolates. Yummy.

So the kids were left to themselves with their games and we adults were busy with the food, the talks, and what-have-yous. After dinnertime, everyone left and we had the house back to ourselves.

After putting Yessa to sleep, I had a little nap and woke up at midnight. Feeling a bit hungry, I decided to indulge myself with a midnight snack. I grabbed the cookie jar expecting it to be full. Imagine my surprise when I found it contained NOTHING. NADA. ZERO. ZILCH.

Not even an empty wrapper was left. I looked, yet there were no kitkat wrappers in the trash bin.

So where did all the chocolates go? Obviously, to somebody’s stomach. haha!

To whose tummy (or tummies) did it went?

I think I know who dunnit; and tomorrow I will know for sure.

For the meantime, would anyone care to venture a guess?

She’d like to have her version of coffee before getting up and climbing down the bed and out the bedroom door, thank you.

Recently, she’s learning how to open the door on her own, and some mornings I woke up to see her already standing by the door, turning the knob, and calling for me to let her out.

(As yet, she still can’t imitate the complex action of turning and pulling successively; hence, she calls out to me. Glad to know I’m still needed by the little imp. ;P )

This morning, she’s looking at me with her big brown eyes while doing her thing with my boob. She suddenly stopped in mid-suck, gazed lovingly into my eyes, and said: “Mama”.

I Love This Kid.