::chronicles of a mudra::

TRICK OR TREATING CUTIEPIE

2009-11-05T15:31:00.004+08:00

I get a kind of maternal high each time I go through Nicolo's pictures. I'm still in awe that the beer-drinking, party-hopping college people that Mico and I were before can be wonderfully capable of producing a well-rounded kid who is just bursting with sunshiney energy, talent, wit and sweetness.

Lately, my favorite collection of photos to look at has been that of Nicolo's trick or treating moments. He's growing so fast but still keeps that undeniable cuteness that I can't help blog (read: brag) about. Well, aren't all parents entitled to that?

2007

2008

2009

PLANNER SEASON TO BE JOLLY, FALALA!

2009-11-05T14:25:00.004+08:00

I've been a big fan of journals since youth. I didn't have much of a respectable social life back then but I've nonetheless always secured myself a good datebook for my occasional OC attacks within the year. Last year's planner, for instance, has been a repository of my Pampers Hearts Club stickers and has given me great relief that I don't go losing track of redeeming them. And with my being a self-confessed promo junkie, it is no surprise that I have yearly, since its launch, fallen prey to the coveted Starbucks planner. I just love that they strive to come up with a fresh concept each year.

This season, Starbucks offers three designs which all come in monochromatic, fabric finish. The three covers depict the different stages in the preparation of coffee: from beans, to roasting, and to the finished product. I personally go for the finished product design, not least for its less-velvety texture. The other fabrics simply invite accidents and early wear/tear. I'm not sure if the new designs go with pens, as they always did before.

A wishlist card with 17 slots will have to be filled with stickers for each drink to get the planner. The card requires 9 stickers covering holiday featured drinks (dark cherry mocha, peppermint mocha and toffee nut) and 8 covering beverages of your choice. That's not a bad count considering I've been looking forward to dark cherry mocha all year round and starbucks trips always comes with at least two cups: for me and my husband. I just hope we finish all 17 before crunch time, so we can get the planners BEFORE the year starts (for a change). I was joking earlier with my boss that I probably wouldn't care less if the covers were of celebrities and the book itself ringbound, as the thrill of getting it alone is enough of a high. Well, not too probably. Hahaha.

I CHOOSE NOYNOY

2009-10-29T17:39:00.001+08:00

I am a law student. For some, that distinction of being an apprentice of the legal system might mean a presidential choice of similar professional leaning. Or perhaps, what with our exposure to political case law, that might mean opting for a leader whose first-hand stint in the top government seat is history in itself (apart from its being constitutionally debatable). But before a law student, I am more importantly a person of morals. And it is for this reason that I choose Noynoy.
Noynoy’s running was motivated not by the pledges of the elite few, whose intentions were nothing more than to secure their businesses in the event of his near-certain ascent to power. On the contrary, he did so by the overwhelming support he drew from the people in general. He did not solicit the trust which the people so willingly gave. And as undeniable as utang na loob is innate in every Filipino, he will be liable to no one else but the citizenry in whole. I don’t know that this is not reason enough why he is the best choice, but there are countless more at any rate.
I have always believed in leadership by example, such that followers will emulate those whom they look up to. Noynoy was never deprived of icons and teachings to live by. The heroes of our times were heroes of his very home, the ethics he had been reared to observe unparalleled by any political education. It goes without saying as well, that he is not impelled by party loyalty or otherwise by personal attachment, to follow the footsteps of the presently-seated whose excesses in power go to the very core of the people’s clamour for change. And without subscribing to the popular (and, if I may add, inaccurate) opinion that the presidency is in his blood, I believe that the presidency is in his upbringing, and it can’t be more enduring that that.
He is the perfect blend of intellect, experience and conscience, the last being the one clearly lacking in the incumbent. While we are presented with a pool of aspirants consisting of some remarkably experienced and others remarkably intelligent, it is the truth that our country cannot live by each alone. Noynoy was sufficiently educated so much so that he is not likely to allow himself to be a mere pawn. He has been a public servant for long, serving terms untarnished by political horseplays. I believe moral resolve is his greatest edge and most selling feature, so that it is a discussion that must be left only for those who will dare question.
But more than merely patronizing Noynoy, it is the effect to the people of his courage to run that is a reflection of his fitness for the presidency. Beyond reason and logic, Noynoy has moved mountains in moving the population for a common cause. The sheer number of volunteers coming to his aid, stirred from the coma of political apathy, as I myself have been, is awe-inspiring.
And with all the reasons there may be for choosing Noynoy, I am confident that whatever I may have said will add no persuasive value, considering the people have already set their minds. At best, I may have only echoed what most have come to realize. Noynoy Aquino is the best bid for the presidency, as he is most promising to deliver.

26

2009-10-27T15:17:00.010+08:00

The past two Octobers have been especially remarkable because of the addition of my little mascot Nicolo. Before my two boys, my birthday happiness was largely accounted for by the group of friends with whom I was able to party or celebrate with (I have a terrible phobia of loner-hood). Now, however busy my friends are, I know that my favorite duo will always be there to share my day of the year, and with them I will always be complete.

This year, we celebrated my 26th October with dinners at Gerry's, Chili's and a grand finale at Enchanted Kingdom.

Dinner at Gerry's Grill MOA where Mico and I downed food for four people! (Kinilaw na Tanigue, yum!)

Dinner at Chilis Tomas Morato

Fampics at EK

MORE THAN JUST WATER

2009-10-01T10:10:00.006+08:00

Taft Avenue, my way home. During the aftermath of Ondoy.

My husband and I were among those stranded by the onslaught of typhoon Ondoy, which misfortune we are thankful still for being considerably milder than that which befell a greater number of our countrymen in neighboring cities. In the afternoon of September 28th, Mico and I watched from the window of my fourth floor office as the winds howled through its glass panes. Our concern was that our son was left at home with our new yaya, who we were yet to "break in" and observe in the face of calamity. Good thing we were able to reach the neighbours, so we were more or less assured that Nicolo was safe. I heeded Mico's advice not to brave the chest-deep flood which covered our route home, on the premise that we would be better off leaving my son parentless for one night, rather than parentless for the rest of his life.

********

The past week has been a reflection of the values that we have, more shown in the face of adversity. The sheer callousness of capitalists, for one, frustrates me exponentially worse than the waters brought by storm. In this republic where long weekends and holidays are abundant as there are prominent people's deaths to mourn and national anniversaries to celebrate, it is completely beyond me why employees were expected to report for work Monday after homes and lives were ravaged only a couple of nights earlier.

Case in point, a number of my colleagues have themselves been victims of this disaster (our office being an apparent satellite barangay of Malabon) ---not least affected was our Director, himself. As the waters that filled their homes have yet to subside to date, they were forced to take the week off, to file leaves to excuse themselves from work. While it was argued that leaves were liberally allowed in the face of this crisis, the fact remains that they were COMPELLED to spend their leave credits on something which would have demanded nothing short of corporate grace. The sheer necessity of having to worry about your absences being covered by paid leaves at a time when you are yet to figure how to redeem your home from muck, grime and sludge could be an almost laughable joke, were it not for the blaring reality of the situation.

Since there is in fact no immediate work to be accomplished, what with the insufficiency of manpower to function routinely and our "clientele" in absencia for the time being (classes being suspended and students are not around), we have spent our week coming to work only to lounge, change facebook status and read news on how the rest of the country has been mobilized to recover from the deluge. And all you can do is watch through computer screens and wonder why on earth you keep on doing something as menial as waiting for rare calls on the phone and typing Minutes of Meetings when you can be more useful elsewhere ---as I have.

And so on Tuesday afternoon, I faked a sick leave and dragged my husband to the nearest relief operations near us.

Being there was a stark contrast to the passivity that has kept my teeth gritting on my 0ffice seat. Everyone, rich or poor (well, maybe more of the former, we ended up joining the ops near the gates of Forbes Park), young and autumnal were there to give a hand. The spirit of selflessness was most felt, as even kids as tender as 6 years were there bringing what they could, from boxes of Kellogs cornflakes to old jackets and popcorn. Nobody was there to earn nor to be seen, fading in the background of boxes of donations, and mounds of repacked relief goods. People we didn't know took our hands to form a chain to pass around bags of goods, all in the name of goodwill and empathy. We came home a thousand times more fulfilled, than if I had accomplished a week's worth of work in one afternoon.

Last night's news featured experts forecasting that the waters will be here to stay until the next few weeks, or heaven forbid until Christmas season. I just hope goodwill spreads faster than the floods have risen.

FUN RANCH AT TIENDESITAS

2009-09-01T11:33:00.006+08:00

Yesterday, my two boys and I (and yaya) ventured to a long-delayed and much-awaited trip to Fun Ranch at Tiendesitas. I had been anticipating that the place would be jam-packed because of the long weekend (National Heroes Day), so I made Nicolo wear an ID card, so we wouldn't lose him if the place gets rowdy.

Going there on a weekday proved to be a good idea because there were only a handful of people there. We got the rides almost exclusively for ourselves so Nicolo got to try everything. Tip to parents: buy the ride-all ticket instead of getting one for each ride. We really got our money's worth. Each toddler is allowed to be joined in the ride by a parent or guardian, so Mico and I took turns in riding with Nico. We had so much fun ourselves.

We had lunch at the Blue Whale Grill instead of the popular Big Red Barn because a magic show was scheduled at that time. Food was reasonably kiddie themed so we couldn't expect much of a feast. Still, we can't say we didn't enjoy lunch especially with the dancing mascots (who were all very generous to photo-sessioning parents) as well as the amazing magic show.

We also dropped by Ark Avilon Zoo, which is a stones throw from Fun Ranch. Nico was almost complteley zonked out at that time having spent all his energy running around at Tiendesitas so we just took a couple of pictures and went our way.

FOR THE LOVE OF FREE SHRIMP

2009-08-13T13:44:00.005+08:00

Freebies are my personal nicotine. Indeed, I have always been up to bat in every contest or promo invented for the persevering–Pinoy. From free monthly supply of doughnuts to the undying souvenir ballpens, me and my husband have been notorious in investing sweat, lack of sleep and yes, dignity, over these goodies.

I have discovered that my officemates are equally as vicious in this art, inasmuch as I have committed myself to indulge in the career of bargain-hunting. We were a syndicate. It didn’t matter that the loot was something as petty as doodle pads or bags of chips. We simply loved the adrenaline and the sheer titillating experience of outwitting (and out-swindling) the generosity of our corporate benefactors.

Our latest project scored us free pads of post-its and free prawns –but with a LITTLE sacrifice on our part. After registering for our free post-it coupons and playing online-games for complimentary tempura at Tokyo-Tokyo, we industriously planned the lunch date when we were to redeem our giveaways together. Having postponed our rendezvous yesterday due to uncooperative weather, we ventured off to SM today. Our first disaster came when halfway through our walkathon to SM, Ms. Grace realized that she left her mobile phone at the office –the same phone she was going to use to redeem her free lunch. We went ahead of her to the mall as she marathoned back to Intramuros.

We were done placing our orders when she finally arrived at SM, armed with two phones. Both proved useless because the one where the message was stored was completely power-drained. She dragged me to the topmost floor of SM where she was fully convinced that KFC had charging stations –only to get there and find that there weren’t any. I vaguely remembered though, that there was one at the ground floor so we SPRINTED all the way down. Until today, I have never ran down the flight of escalator steps, skirting people who were standing still to get on the platform. Anyone who would have seen us would have imagined nothing short of a heart-stopping emergency.

With sweaty palms and sporadic breaths, we got to Burger King only to find out that her phone was incompatible with any of the free chargers available. Unrelenting in our task, we jogged to the basement to find the last charging station in the entire mall--- which would have cost us a beautiful 30 bucks. Skilled as we were in the Filipino art of “dugas”, we charged for a few minutes enough to open the phone and led the cashier to believe that their Jurassic charger wasn’t working.

True to the saying that karma is now digital, the now-open phone wouldn’t scroll to the Inbox where the relevant message was kept. Since lunch break was up in five minutes, we dejectedly made our way back to the restaurant.

On our way, Wee called my mobile asking if I ordered beef misono, tempura add-ons and other what-nots aside from the freebie tempura meal. Someone apparently screwed up with the orders and I was getting an extra perk to my existing-perk. The free meal would have been a brilliant substitute for Ms. Grace’s frustrated freebie, but honesty got the better side of Wee.

After 45 minutes of waiting, the prawns were still yet to be delivered, as if they were still in the process of catching them from sea. With our minds clear after we stopped jogging though, we realized that Ms. Lyn who was also with us actually had another entry on her phone, good for redeeming another meal. Needless to say, our whole lunchbreak of running turned to be a complete waste of time.

It was 20 minutes past our lunch break when we finally received our orders for take-out. If the meals weren’t free, I’m sure we would have raised hell. I myself have been known to go ballistic on incompetent service... but I wasn’t about to boil mad when I got my prawns for free.

Oh, and that wasn't even the end of it. Wee left the rice he bought for Sir Ryanne so he himself stretched some leg muscle to jog back to SM.

All this we did.... for the love of free prawns (which by the way, would have been more aptly called breaded breading).

HIGH SCHOOL

2009-06-30T13:04:00.004+08:00

At this time and age when reminders of high school life have been reduced to yahoogroup posts and memories revived with cue from episodes of One Tree Hill, it is nothing else but refreshing to get together with friends who have seen me through 4 years of adolescent comedies and tragedies.

I have been fortunate to belong in not just one but two sets of amazing people who have constantly kept in touch through the years. Incidentally, I fished my husband from one of these very circles.

Now that most of us (if not all of us) have professional lives to lead and/or families of our own to boost, we don't get to see each other as often. Still, it's nice to know that what we have is something for keeps.

GRATITUDE

2009-04-27T14:10:00.000+08:00

Generosity and selflessness being my most revered attributes in any person, I have been keen to be vocally appreciative of everything my little boy gives me if only to encourage him to do more of these acts of altruism. Back when he was a little over a year old, he used to stuff dried leaves or his elephant rattle into my bag, which I usually found only when I got to the office or to lawschool. I thanked him for these queer presents because I knew that, in his baby ways, these were his expressions of veneration and love for his one and only mommymoo.

It was his latest “gift” that brought on this introspection. A few days after the last of his chicken pox scabs has fallen off, my son passed me the varicella strain. See, chicken pox at twenty-five years of age can be the Hades of one’s self-esteem. There was hardly any Good in my Good Friday, which I spent itching and bitching over the demeaning blisters. It didn’t help that my brilliant neighbors dwelled on chicken pox urban legends, that I literally house-arrested myself (curtains down, doors closed and positively baking) for an entire week.

I was dead set on playing victim for the duration of my extended penitence. Then this one afternoon, Nico reached for a hug which I naturally refused to return. My heart just broke when I saw his dejected pout and marooning little nose. This boy was going to cry over being rejected by a hideous parent-beast! It just hit me that however un-glorified I might look or unpopular I might be, there will always be this little soul to look up to me with the reverence of a pious man to a saint.

Seeing the other half-fill of my glass also made me realize that chicken pox isn’t so bad when you have an amazing husband running around for you, doing crazy things like getting you Gatorade in the middle of the night and buying you shoes to alleviate the blow to the morale. Then there was also the fact that I was given the perfect excuse to REST, to spend two solid weeks without the feel of denims or the compulsion of having to save sick leaves for the rainy days. What with my impending Darna-mode semester (work+school+apprenticeship+domestic stuff), the past two weeks made sure I got nothing but bed-ridden bliss; that not even the slightest effort of having to go to the mall (thereby spreading germs) would have cost me precious energy and muscle power.

And so to mark the first day out of my 18-day hiatus, I am thanking my son for his gift of the varicella virus. The little punk surely has a twisted sense of charity.

MOMMY AND DADDY, M.D.

2009-04-01T11:54:00.001+08:00

Just thought I'd share our little discovery. Mico and I aren't exactly such expert parents but I'd like to think we handled Nicolo's chicken pox episode pretty well.

After Nico's birthday, his pockmarks sprouted just about everywhere, hitting him worst on his back down to his pampers area. During the first night, the little punk kept me awake for hours with his whining and scratching. Even Mr. Bean on TV fell short in sedating him.

The next day, Mico and I went on an anti-itch expedition at MOA. We were on a hunt for Aveeno's Oatmeal Baby Bath which, according to our research, is an excellent relief to chicken pox. We covered every cosmetic shop in the mall but failed to find any. Neither of us wanted to go through another night of gruesome screaming (come to think of it, Mico slept through the first night... he never really suffered as much... hehehe) so we agreed to get the closest thing to an oatmeal bath: oatmeal. We figured if it was the major component of the baby bath, we might as well go for the core. And so we went to the grocery and got the biggest bag of oats we could find. When we got home, we blended a cup of oats until powder fine and put them in lukewarm water. After soaking Nicolo for 15 minutes in a basin of our homemade mixture, we got him to sleep a long and whine-less sleep for the night. It was a ritual for the past couple of days.

The pockmarks have all dried up after a week, leaving very minimal damage. The oatmeal did him wonders because the scars aren't at all the repulsive things I've seen on websites and pictures. They're just little dots of crusty purple.

Well, here's to my oatmeal advocacy. I'll be spreading the oatmeal love.

LIFE AFTER SCHOOL

2009-03-31T16:14:00.002+08:00

Last Friday, in my frantic effort to finish my commercial rev case digests, review for tax, remedial rev and commercial rev finals without the benefit of a healthy lunch (I had a bunch of clorets mints… that qualifies?), these inadvertently humorous freebie brain meds were left by the school nurse and a med rep on my library study desk. Funny how the way she positioned it in front of my books gave it an over-all insulting effect. Hahahaha.

Life after school? Right…. By resurrection.

NICO@2

2009-03-31T15:21:00.005+08:00

Leave it to Nicolo to celebrate his birthday with style: he got chicken pox! The kid has absolutely no justice in his timing. Mico and I have been planning industriously for his month-long birthday "shanana", as Mico put it, including our much-awaited trip to Ark Avilon Zoo. We also planned on dropping by M/V Doulos, the floating bookstore docked at Roxas Blvd., but that will have to wait another couple of years because it’ll already be steering elsewhere by the time we can bail Nico out of his house-arrest.

Nevertheless, we couldn’t let his day pass without doing something outdoors as a family. We had dinner at the least populated place at the mall, Don Henrico’s, and bought him cake as well.

The first two pockmarks are visible on the photos… right smack on his forehead.

730 DAYS

2009-03-31T15:05:00.003+08:00

Call us the sappiest couple alive.

At 2 years of marriage, Mico and I have good reason to smile about. Striving as we both are to juggle school and parenthood, we have been pretty much living a good life— what with our visibly happy kid and sufficient means to get by without significant threat to our middle-class metropolitan lifestyle.

Of course, having a kid meant a considerable downsizing of our night outs (it pains me to call them “dates”… I have yet to subscribe to its mushy connotations). Still, we have always made it a point to celebrate our anniversary with just the right amount of pizzazz, enough to make them worth-keeping down memory lane. Easy on the wallet but hard-core sappy nonetheless.

On our first anniversary (I never got to write about it… I only recently started this blog), I planned on preparing his ideal breakfast –which is no little mission considering it comprises of everything “ideally-breakfast-ly”. My menu was the result of weeks of fishing for information and some serious google-ing on “continental breakfasts”. I had planned on making a quick trip to SM after office hours the day before our anniversary, but the Master of Wrong Timing insisted on picking me up from work. I was surprised when he told me he had to drop by the grocery himself for his anniversary gimmick, so we struck up a deal where he would give me a five-minute headstart inside SM Supermarket, if only for him not to see which lane I would take and clue him in as to my surprise. I had gone halfway through my list when, as I was reaching for a stick of President’s butter, he gave me a good shove and peeked through the contents of my basket. Apparently, he was about to get a stick of butter himself for his anniversary gift: My Ideal Dinner, buttered garlic prawns. The scrimp was going for Dairy Crème, and I was going to spend heaps for his butter. It was stupid really, but I cried right there, feeling robbed of my surprise. After a few minutes of ridiculous half-laughter, half-sobs, we finally agreed on getting just one stick. Of Presidents.

And so this year, we agreed to share planning our anniversary gimmick. No more issues with butter this time. On our 730th day, we kicked off with a boat ride along Manila Bay (a new perspective since we’re always looking AT the bay from Mall of Asia), followed by a HEAVY dinner at Gumbo (shrimps…naturally) and coffee at Starbucks. Dinner was his treat, coffee was mine. I get to be the scrimp this time. Hahahaha

FIRST BAND-AID

2009-03-09T11:24:00.003+08:00

One of the perks of having my own blogspot is getting to publish my baby's less-grandiose "firsts" without the clutter. Photo inset is Nicolo's first band-aid experience, which was the result of his vicious gnawing on his fingers. This habit, which I intend to kick out of his system before he starts schooling, is among the many traits he inherited from his dad (who has been nibbling on his own digits for 25 years now). Of course, the band aid did not last for long. he was chewing yet again two hours later after he forced the adhesive off his pointy finger.

IRONY

2009-03-02T10:36:00.007+08:00

There are two or three things amiss with the inset photos, not least of which is the fact that I was never the type to bubble with school spirit in law school. Blame it on my 10 solid years of maroon education. Perhaps, it took me longer than the rest of us to acclimatize to the less-belligerent culture.

And then there's the fact that I'm joining the bar operations, when I'm supposed to be marching with the bar candidates to La Salle on September. Having realized earlier on that I'll be missing my grad date by a couple of subjects, I figured I might as well stagger my units if only to keep my mind working until the end of next school year. If I can't take the bar, might as well make myself useful and join the ops, right?

More curiously, it's an almost laughable irony that I should be joining the operations on---of all subjects in the world ---TAX. I guess I'll have to take Bambi's word that, more than being of service to the baristas, preparing the tax review materials will do my own grades good just as well.

WHAT LOVE IS

2009-02-20T11:37:00.002+08:00

His strongest virtue is patience; hers is a sense of urgency.

He’s brilliant in math; she can’t multiply in her head if her life depended on it.

He wouldn’t mind the difference between a curtain rod and a piece of string held together by hooks; she will raise hell to match her curtains with her living room paint.

He’s laid back; she’s uptight as a sugarless cup of black coffee.

He devours ketchup; she thinks it’s the second worst invention to nuclear warheads.

He wears gray; she sashays in pink.

A bag of chips, a good TV set and a DVD collection would make his day; she craves the nightlife.

He loved Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon; she curses anything with flying Asians.

He’s a techie; she panics when her computer beeps.

He’s frugal; she’s not.

He’s non-catholic, she’s TECHNICALLY a catholic.

He hates brands; she’s terribly picky.

His is a simple man’s life; hers is that of a drama queen.

WHERE THEY MEET HALFWAY, THAT’S NOTHING ELSE BUT LOVE.

ON TAX LAW AND VINDICATION

2009-02-16T11:16:00.001+08:00

I have never been brilliant at Taxation Law. Indeed, looking at my codals all lined up, the cleanest and whitest pages are of my NIRC, which I leaf through for five minutes to guarantee a peaceful slumber.

In my four years of law school, I’ve always had this knack for surviving exams despite minimal knowledge of the law…. and with a great deal of common sense, notion for justice and imagination. Sadly, these three ammunition are plain useless in tax because the provisions of the NIRC simply refuse to convert themselves to imaginable concepts.

Needless to say, I failed Tax midterms. And while I’m not the type to brood over grades and such, the fact that the I can almost smell my own bar season coming up just makes me hyperventilate considerably.

On the other hand, I am beyond grateful that I at least passed Remedial Review midterms. Vindicated, you might call it. I suppose I won’t make the best tax lawyer, but I’ll at least know how to kill a case before it even starts to run.

IN (DIRE) SEARCH OF MERCURY DRUG

2009-02-09T12:02:00.003+08:00

I relish in urban living if only for the fact that everything is so accessible. For one, my two boys and I can easilly opt to eat-out (what with my fabulous schedule that hardly permits me time to cook) in any of the fast foods round the bend of our street. The major malls in the metropolis are but a measly 7-bucks away, which basically allows us to run for patis in Mall of Asia in case we run out of it in the middle of the day.

But the dreadful circumstances which the residents of Pasay City have had to go through this past weekend proved me wrong in one respect. The water supply was cut-off since Saturday morning so my husband and Nico spent their weekend in Laguna. Since the notice (which, by the way, was belatedly given) stated that the interruption would last 36 hours, my boys came home last night expecting that the service had already been restored. Typical of local governance in RP, the notice was wrong.

And so at around 10 PM, the three of us drove around Pasay with my father-in-law to look for bottles of Dr. Edwards mineral water for babies. To our great disapointment, we discovered that all Mercury drugstores in the area were already closed ---all five branches of them within the 1-kilometer radius of my house (more or less, i'm not exactly an engineer). So we ended up with the absolutely impractical recourse to use our stock of Wilkins distilled water to wash and sterilize the bottles.

Which brings me to ask: why on earth would we need 5-branches of Mercury Drugstores, each only a few blocks apart, offering more or less the same merchandise, all open at the same time? It's just pointless and a complete marketing-don't. Not to mention, it's queer that none of these 5 branches are open 24-hours considering that the nature of their products make them the very things that must be made available to the public at all times. Mind, even Wendy's offers 24-hour services... and there's really no emergency in needing burgers in the middle of the night.

It's a good thing the water supply was restored this morning. Otherwise, I would have to go hoarding boxes of Dr. Edwards if only not to be unnerved by the lack of drugstores past dinnertime.

DY'S BABY BASH

2009-02-05T08:41:00.003+08:00

Last Monday's baby bash for Dyan was a blast. I was victorious in my evil agenda to make her cry for the nth time in the history of our friendship, thanks to my trusty pack of Snickers bars. In a couple of weeks (or days even), we’ll be welcoming baby , uh, Cholla (hahaha), into this crazy world and she’ll finally get to see the people who have been patting her head for the past 9 months through her mom’s preggy leggings. With her baby gear all set, I'm sure my best bloc buddy will make one great mom to my Nico's future playmate.

From one mudra to another, cheers to the meaningfully bumpy ride ahead!

WHY BEDTIME IS SUCH AN EXCELLENT ANTIDOTE TO STRESS

2009-02-02T15:44:00.002+08:00

Because there are many things money can't buy...

(for everything else, there's Mastercard). Hahaha.

STARRY NIGHT

2009-02-02T15:29:00.005+08:00

Living up to our infamous spontaneity, we went to Star City yesterday after we stumbled upon its gates as we were looking for a can of coke along Roxas Boulevard. It was a great alternative to having dinner at our extended kitchen –Mall of Asia. Nicolo screamed along with the people aboard the SurfDance ride as if he were on board as well.

See photos on how the three of us put a twist to an otherwise ordinary Sunday night.

LEIGHTON'S FIRST BIRTHDAY

2009-02-02T15:02:00.005+08:00

It's funny how my husband and I realized how "parental" we've become. Seems like only a few years ago when we were always smashed on tequila at debut parties. Nowadays, half of our stash of letters is comprised of invites for weddings and first birthday parties of friends' babies. Now we're smashed on ice cream. :)

Here are some of the photos from the kiddie bash we attended yesterday (Leighton's first birthday).

REMEDIAL HANGOVER

2009-01-31T16:18:00.004+08:00

I believed hangover was a disposition I had graduated from at the same time I left UPLB (aka, the Southern Tagalog Sodom and Gomorrah) up until I got a fresh dose this afternoon. As I am writing this post, my mind is helplessly floating back to Atty. Soriano's 3-page back-to-back midterm questionnaire on Remedial Law Review last night, comprising of a single question --when I should be somewhere beyond half of the coverage for tomorrow's Commercial Law Review exam. I finally abandoned my hypocritical desk at the library (which by the way looks more of a buffet than a study area... I have a tendency to pig out when studying... or trying to study for that matter) as soon as I realized I will never get the sense of negotiable instruments so long as I keep thinking back on motions for summary judgment.

Man, it will take more than coffee and a good bowl of goto to shake off this feeling.

BRING ON THE TIKOY

2009-01-27T13:56:00.002+08:00

The forecast for piggies this year is anything but optimistic. According to online Chinese astrology (which I’ve been keen to follow these past few years), an unlucky star hovers in the career aspect of our lives such that more work is pegged without the promise of proportionate remuneration. This, in legal parlance, is what I’d like to call an omen of “imminent danger”.

Unfortunately, this prediction seems to take a more definite path in my case. Come first semester (or summer, God forbid), I will have to take my apprenticeship under some law firm. I’ve managed to put it off for quite some time, but if I want to graduate anytime soon, its inevitable legal work for me.

While I do not deny the giddiness inside me to finally get a taste of the “real action”, the crude, earthly realty pulls me back that I cannot afford to quit my job if only to render 200 hours of on-the-job training. What with my little boy’s 1.6 kg consumption of milk every two weeks and his irresistibly cute face fit only for Baby Guess and Mossimo, full-time schooling is evidently not a luxury I can allow. Thus, the obvious recourse to my powers of multi-tasking. By some miracle, I will have to keep my day-job and attend law school evenings while working for a firm that would allow me to work on weekends. Oh yes, and spare some time for baby-clothes shopping.

And so to enhance my “chi” and boost my chances of making it through the year with my mental health intact, my husband and I yielded to tradition. Following the belief that serving sticky food will effect an adherence of luck, wealth and unity in the family, we had hopia, shanghai and tikoy on Chinese New Year (short of serving rugby and elmer’s glue on the dining table). Hopefully, our earnest effort was sufficient to invite good fortune for three people all born in years of the pig.

My misgivings notwithstanding on the year of the ox, kong hei fat choi!

BLOODY TUESDAYS, AND THEN SOME

2009-01-21T10:45:00.004+08:00

My husband and I were "baptized" into the world of toddler injuries last night when Nico lunged headfirst unto our rock-solid bedroom wall. We have been blessed to have made it through almost two years without any injury of this magnitude, but no length of time could have prepared us for a bloody (and teary) little nose.

With sheer adrenaline, I had managed to chunk-off a stalactite from the freezer (i.e., the kind that forms along the freezer walls when you don't de-frost for a looooong time... hehehe) to keep the swelling down. The way it was last night, my husband could have done well rushing ME to the hospital, as I was going through fits of hysteria. He kept telling me that it was going to be fine and that he had seen boxers on TV bleed all the time when they get punched in the nose. Ofcourse, I could have given him a nasty left-hook myself for his preposterous analogy, seeing as it was that my boy's pert little nose was a far-match from the broken-in facial muscles of the these bantamweights.

When Nico started crumpling his nose and wiping off bloodstains and teardrops from his face (very Gladiator-like, mind you), we were relieved that his nose wasn't broken. And while we recognize that last night wasn't going to be the last of the injuries in our lifetime, at least we would not be such neophytes the next time it happens (though I pray it never does).

*****

I got to spend some time with two of my law school blocies Cezanne and Happy last night before leaving Arel. I dropped the invites for Dyan's baby shower (which I'm spearheading with another chummy blocmate, Shine) and we got to catch up on the latest buzz. Twas really refreshing being with them, especially since there are precious little of us left (read:survivors) from the original bloc of 30+ freshies. We realized how far we've come from the perky newbies that we were four years ago. Our issues are far more profound now ---from marital crisis to unmentionable infections, we've sure gone a long way from the petty fights we used to have. And to think we've yet to take the bar.

More than anything, I hope we keep the friendship even after we graduate and become lawyers. After all, the best of relations are always those which rise above adversitites.

*****

America etched another man's name in history yesterday when they swore in their 44th president Barack Obama. Apart from wanting to see whether the inauguration-hype did pay off, I watched to hear if his speech would spawn a power line that would go down in the books of famous quotes. I had wanted to see if Obama would come up with one with the intensity of JFK's legendary "Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country." and Reagan's "At this time of crisis, government is not the solution to our problem ---government is the problem." And while last night's speech fell short of the overwhelmingly moving type that Obama was known for during the stretch of his campaign, he did come up with a line that Asian governments would do well to mull over:

"To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society's ills on the West, know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you can destroy."

HOME ALONE

2009-01-16T15:22:00.001+08:00

Last night was the first in almost 20 months that I spent the night alone with Nicolo. His dad had to leave for Baguio, leaving my little boy and I two solid nights of quality time. Admittedly, I was reluctant to let my yaya leave until Nico fell asleep because he has always been most active before bedtime--- which is inversely proportional to my energy level considering I spend the entire day working/studying. Nonetheless, I let her off early because I figured that if I wanted to have some serious bonding time with my kid, yesterday was good time more than ever.

For lack of reinforcements, I was compelled to buy ready-to-eat instead of cooking dinner. Since Nico figured out the function of his surprisingly long legs (and those who know me and my husband would understand), he had been climbing out of his crib to our consternation. I fed him on my lap because without his dad to clean up after us, we were sure to leave plenty of rice bits on the floor for the mickey mice (our nocturnal living room guests). Then I realized I didn’t have time to have dinner, so I just cleared Nico’s leftovers and scooted him upstairs for sleep time.

As soon as we got to the room, he went about his ritual of scattering his toys all over the floor. Every inch simply had to be covered with something. I could have watched TV but he would always hand me a block or some makeshift-toy (crumpled paper, dirty socks….) and command me to play. So I abandoned all efforts to do things my-style and just went along with his gameplan. When he got bored with his floor-collage, he dragged me on the bed for his favorite entertainment of home-WWF. See, our queen sized bed has always been a bit of a disadvantage to us because Nico regarded it as a queen-sized trampoline. I was especially alarmed last night because this sport used to be exclusive between him and my husband, what with my lack of muscle-power. He started diving on top of me and was absolutely titillated to see me wriggle and squeal under his bear-hug. He slobbered all over my face and was just consumed with laughter. I finally got him to settle after I popped Disney’s Bolt on the computer and he just dozed off afterwards. We slept at unusual angles because we had the bed for ourselves for the first time but when I woke up, we were tightly balled at the corner of the bed. The yaya was already there at 5:30 AM so I left him asleep before leaving for the office.

I’m supposed to have class tonight (law school) but a huge part of me is just screaming to head straight for home so I could resume my bonding spree with my honeyboat. I suppose I’ll figure out later if I’d actually cut-class.

I’m sure my husband is wondering whether or not Nico and I managed without him last night. He’s probably thinking he’d find us tomorrow with scratches and bruises, like we just came off a war or a catfight.

He’ll be in for a surprise.

REBIRTH

2009-01-14T14:24:00.000+08:00

Meryl Streep was once quoted saying “Motherhood has a very humanizing effect. Everything gets reduced to essentials”. True enough, I bid farewell to my bachelorette frivolities the moment I had my precious little punk Nicolo. Every waking hour had to be spent productively – and by this I mean having had to rush getting a degree in law while working a day-job without compromising my maternal and conjugal responsibilities. Needless to say, practically all my extra-curriculars were rammed into the backseat. Writing was one such activity I had to let go.

Still, the past two years had never expunged my passion for prose. And while I may not be as eloquent as I once was, I feel the fact that I’m letting so much of my mudra experience slip without being put on record calls for an urgent revival of my writing abilities.

And so this blog will be a chronicle of my journey into the crazy world of working-motherhood/working-studentship (for lack of a better word) /student-motherhood. Hopefully, this will be something that Nicolo can go back to when I’m too old to recount my multi-tasking years.