When there's Christmas, there's Scrooge

This is one Christmas that I'm hard put to spend.
Either I had an Epiphany of sorts and finally realized
the true meaning of Jesus' Nativity.
Or I'm just getting old and and am becoming a scrooge.

For one, kids are tweens and are no believers of Santa.
Is that bad? 
Second, I don't have a list yet and I'm scared to make one.
Sure I know that I have a responsibility, at the least, for us
to have some sense of yuletide spirit.
I've put up the tree, isn't that enough?

Last Thursday, traffic wasn't just in Edsa, it was also in the escalator.Tried to squeeze in buying daughter's accessory for their school's annual
Christmas play, shoppers were rushing as SM opened promptly at ten a.m.
One parent thought of placing his child in the willowy cart and kid tumbled 
out as they landed on the next floor.
Poor thing! Carts are not carnival rides.
Such mayhem can make one abhor malls.

Then today, I was all scheduled to buy that birthday giftie for myself,
faced with the shiny thing, I turned away. It didn't seem to matter
much buying it anymore. What is happening?

Could it be that in the new office group I'm in, peeps are less
pomp and more brains? Is it more harmonious to blend in or would I
rather not care and keep the airline grooming standards thought to
us in my former department?

I remember this tweet: "With great style, comes great responsibility."
And with responsiblity more or less means breaking your bank.
Style's not cheap.

It's only my Day 4 tomorrow and the more I talk to these people and
have a glimpse of their lives, the more I feel somehow insignificant
with my shallow material wants. They're like bored, rich, corporate habitues
but of simple demeanor, unassuming personal circumstances and living
meaningful lives.

I feel lucky that I have this opportunity to be right, front, and center as
great minds talk.

So I'm taking it in one breath at a time.

If it influences my material view of the season, then I think that's good.
Epiphany is real and let's just give love and hug as gifts then. ;)

Formal Theme No. 3

Objective:     To be able to write descriptive paragraphs about Christmas

Christmas Is A Time For Everybody

Christmas is the time for love and sharing. You can say it's a time for getting a lot of gifts and money. But we all agree that it's the time to remember the Lord Jesus Christ and his birth. Everybody loves the presents and food when it's Christmas. It's like a fiesta! But when Christmas is here, we will always be ready to share.

Kids always write to Santa. They want a nice gift from him. Everyone will wonder why the cookies and milk we'll leave will be gone. And the presents that wasn't there yesterday. And we all agree that those things were done on Christmas Eve was done by Santa Claus. So the next time you see a new gift under the tree, you know who that person is.

Christmas is our favorite time of the year. The presents we receive and the food (in a) on a giant fiesta table. (Bu) But the missing ingredient in this (Chrim) Christmas special is the love we show. In this (s) special (its) it is not just our family and friends it's also the poor. We should also show them how happy we are. For happiness I wish everyday is Christmas.

KIPC 4-Obedience
(typed exactly as seen on paper)

it's not just a job

When you choose to give up smoking because life is pulsating

When in a blink, you drop down get dirty scooping some poopie

When you allow yourself to be unglamorous - hair uncombed

When your time is not yours, sleep is a forgotten course

When you had to answer little questions in the middle of tv, a favorite book

When you’re yanked out of bed for the little one is wailing,

Or when the alarm failed to alarm and school bus is beeping

When it’s 4am and your hand is feeding and one foot is crib swinging

And you try hard to catch some sleep for in a few hours work would be knocking

When all you watch is cartoons over and over again. And again.


That you're suddenly a wiz in children's television

You’ve unlearnt how to cringe on spiders

You’re a big pillow during thunders 

When you can’t wait to get out of the office and scurry your way home

When you choose to forego dessert and bring the sweet treat to your rabbits

When your walls are big canvasses, splattered with all colors

When you have chipped furniture, chairs with missing leg, broken vases,

Sagging bed from jumping sprees and innumerable dives

When you leave the lamp on to light the dark bedroom

And you are their superhero shooing larking creatures

When everyday you clean goo, their teeth were a cave with cobwebs to be brushed

When you’re one big paranoid over safety

And you disinfect like crazy

When they bump on everything

And shniffles rule and you have to nurse each knick and every imaginable bruise

When you monitor temperature, flinch with the sound of cough,

Because you know when something's wrong and can tell right out

When they frolic in the water and swim until they’re blue

When your heart leaps out your chest as they sprint, somersault


cross the street, or say some darn thing

When they ask permission to a pajama party

Or on the cellphone texting somebody


When you get front row seats on

Little hands, tiny toes, missing tooth, sun-kissed soft hair, sparkling smiles,

Artworks, lost pencils, crayons, spilt milk, juice and crushed cookies.

When they draw you in squiggly lines with big eyes and love written all over it.

When you develop a third eye on your back with an acute sense of hearing for

sibbling squables;

When baby packing means bringing the whole house and yet you still forget a thing;

When lego parts are scattered asunder on the floor,

your lotions and colognes tumble from being a building,


And Barbie’s shoes had to be found, yes, right now.

Puzzle pieces on your dresser, toy cars in your bag, left-over oreo for your snacks

All the happy meals you can eat so the collection is complete.

When spiderman webs his way out on the roof, waiting breathtakingly for it

to web its way back. And it doesn’t. So you buy another.

When your vocabulary is constrained to “No!”, and all they say in turn is what else but,  “No!”

Or favorite word is "waaiit"

When you run out of warnings, find yourself hoarse from counting




When it’s a battle of wills during bathe time, eating time, tv time and nap time.

When you sit through your countless PTAs, study the school handbook and spot loopholes,

write excuse letters, sign on reminders, sharpen pencils, prepare mock tests,

"what's for baon?" a fixture in your subconcious;

When you’re a cook, a nurse, doctor, police chief;

First teacher, ball catcher, magician, party planner;

A toy fixer, toy sorter, crappy toy instructions analyst;

A personal shopper, bag packer, a gluer, cutter, name tag labeler,

and a project maker;

A dance/sports/speech/financial/life coach, photographer and videographer;

A meat flaker, fish thorn finder, fruit slicer, candy peeler;

A storyteller, a fetcher, washer, janitor, a hair-stylist, a stitcher;

A shoe lacer, sweat wiper, speller, editor, gut reader;

A lie detector, and trouble-sniffer, spectator at mayhem;

A heart healer,  a killjoy person, an ATM;

When you’re ask.com., the explainer, a tagalog-english translator, problem-solver;  

A listener, an unpaid psychiatrist, best cheerleader, and the biggest superhero of all,

When you're all these rolled into one.

Then you have the world’s most amazing job.

You are a mom.

still mom's baby

in every way.

fascinatingly I watch

as she..

traipse and sing like a princess,
run and get giddy in new places.

she is a child in every way.

awed I whisper thanks as she...

pause to look at some ducks
opine that eating ducks sucks.

still a child in every way.

not encumbered by angst.
haven't grown some fangs.

yes, a child in possible ways.


sweet fairy as can be,
she is mom's bubbly baby.

every bit a child in many ways.

kaney, may God's grace always guide you.
to lose not the amazing and appreciative child in you.

please stay a child in every way.

yet with no delusions I know
that reality is no fashion show.

it can be harsh, judgmental.
might hurt your heart in style so mental.

dear kaney,

you cannot afford to be a child that way.

I pray to be there when you need me.

blow your awwchie like you were three.

let me be there to wipe your tears.

hand you a hankie and aid fight your fears.

may I live long to teach you to be strong
to respect and love yourself and be whole

may I be ready then, god,

to accept and nurture the coming years

may I be ready, please,

                                           to let go and allow her to spread her wings.

Shopping for a teener = exasperating

We were rolling eyes alternately.
I think I died when he said, "This is ok. I like it."
Then he had to bug me that we needed to hurry home
for he's to watch his fave anime.
"It's the last episode!"
How many times have I heard that?
You can't rush shopping. You just don't.

waxing poetry

1. On what the inspiration was on his current artwork - a cello propped on a tree against a landscape (will post peg):

My choice of a musical instrument to draw was this cello. Imagine playing it overlooking
a mountain and lush greeneries, cool breeze. It just engulfs you, the music is engulfing.

He rambles on even when I'm only half-listening (my bad) during dinner, watching tv.

2.  On the taco feast given to him as a birthday gift by his best bud's mom:

Tita Jette ur a really great cook, the ground beef was nicely cooked, its taste was heartier
than the others I tasted, the salsa was nicely mixed, I could taste everything from the onions
down to the tomato sauce, and once I assembled the taco, it gave a very unique flavor,
it had the perfect amount of sweetness and was rather one of the best I ever had.

Yes, he was indeed soo happy with it that there was no pause in his glowing praise.

He's a taco monster.

Will his friend's mom cook for him again? She'd love too!

I'll let you in on a secret. Migz's mom, Jette, approves of Bas as her son's friend right at the onset.
Remember, how mothers could be wary of what type of friends her children could be keeping.

My Bas, according to her, is polite and well-mannered, speaks well and personable.
Imagine my disbelief erm pride ha ha! *winky-wink*

You know, I sometime think that my son is hopeless in foresight and practical sensibilities.
And despite my endless yakking, he doesn't seem to get it. And that boys have different
brain zones altogether (may have scientific basis read somewhere).

3. And how can I forget this classic more than a year ago. We were set to venture out when
I asked him if it was raining or not. He looked out the window and said:

"The dark clouds are devouring the sky."

I swear a simple yes or no would have sufficed.
But Bas, waxing poetry on that ordinary afternoon made me want to cry.
Over-actingmuch. Ha ha!

My vocabulary was not this good when I was his age.

But I remember to being always the one to write on birthday and farewell cards given to teachers
on behalf of the class.

lesson in patience

I am not a patient person. Motherhood taught me just about an ounce and I still struggle with the virtue. I can be patient the first time, but on the second and third, my fuse bursts.

For me, stupidity is not an option much less a pathetic excuse. Everyday life is no rocket science, doesn't need a brilliant mind. All you have to do is read instructions and be considerate of somebody's own space and time.

But I guess God has His smart way of outsmarting me. Or to phrase it positively, open my eyes.
Just yesterday, a virtual stranger and nobody told me: "Kapag ganon, huwag ka nang magalit,
turuan mo na lang."

*dumbfounded me* Okay.

Who does he think he is? What does he know?

I couldn't shoot back. He's a decidedly kind person and for the life of me I was catatonic-speechless.

That's rare. Hit a nerve. Unbelievable. Me and my heart of stone.

This morning, I had a test of patience with my daughter. I was calling her and she suddenly
opted to be deaf. Grrrrr.

I failed the test but had this realization. Will strive to do better in my patience barometer.

So help me God.