back on track

finally slowing down and taking life at a stride. funny how i seem to cover greater distances now than when i was in a frantic pace i myself could not keep up.

The economies of scale are against me again. But time is on my back. These past days are the bravest I had ever been. I quit my job. I needed to. I needed to save my soul and get my life moving towards the direction I squarely missed over the past year.

I am back to freelance work, the only kind of work I ever really felt comfortable with. I am now able to assist better on farmwork and the business. And I have more time to prepare my kids for school season this June. It will be Uri’s first time to go to school. And Ari will be moving up to big school. I even plan to go back to school myself. I am back on track. Really I am.

Today I celebrated this fact with my little boys. My boys whom I pray will be as brave as I am when their time comes. We went out for a game of frisbee. It was a beautiful day to be out, under the cloudy skies, running through the scented grass.

I had promised to take them to the park the day before but I got caught up in a meeting until midnight. Thank God today was a better, beautiful day to be out.

It was my way of telling them that I was back. That while I worry and struggle to save for tuition fees and other expenses, I can be with them the whole time. To teach them and help them get ready for bigger things that will be coming their way.

When they were tired of frisbee I took them on a quick walking tour of UPLB. We started with reading lessons on road signs. My children just have a thing for road signs. I am thinking of going back to my driving school manual so I can better interpret some of the signs we see along the road whenever we go on trips.

Then we stopped by some heritage sites that we passed along the way. They were awed by the huge cotton tree and the baby Kapok trees beside it. We saw a fire truck rushing along. I introduced them to the mystical Mariang Banga and accompanied their eyes along Molawin creek.

Our last stop was the oblation statue. Here I tried to teach them about service amidst difficulties. I’m not sure if they even understood anything I explained to them about Oble’ and his meaning. Maybe in time they will. I pray they will imbibe his significance as I do. I am UP by the way. Now I am back on track and I am certain where it leads.


everyday bounty

It is amazing how nature creates, transforms and sustains itself. And we are lucky to be witnesses to the abundance and wealth that our good earth offers to those who are willing to cultivate it. The earthy smell of the soil being dug, the miracle of the seed transforming to a living plant, the crisp of leaves fresh from the picking. This is bounty that we are blessed to experience every waking day.

Our garden is our inspiration. We look out to it the moment we wake up. Our first greeting is to our beloved children, then to our beloved bushes right outside our porch. We take a closer peek at insects and pests that may be on the attack. A quick check on the soil especially if it did not rain the day before. This is our morning habit, which sometimes extends until noontime, or even until the late afternoon.

My husband is an agriculturist by profession. I used to like to think that I was lucky to have been married to a man who will tend my garden for me. Although recently, I gathered enough courage to try to do these gardening tasks on my own. Believe me, but gardening was not as hard as I thought it was.

I was officially bestowed the title, “herb lady.” I am now in charge of caring for our lovely and ever helpful herbs, of propagating them, and making sure they were healthy and pest-free. I have recently learned the skill of crushing caterpillars and grasshoppers with my bare fingers. And I will probably never get another manicure because soil will always be stuck under my fingernails. Pruning shears, rubber boots and a mini-trowel are my new buddies.

Gardening is my newfound love. I am now saving up for solar-powered garden lamps and concrete pots. I have hoarded Turo’s gardening books in search of growing tips and plant traits. And it is eating up a lot of my time, we almost always end up eating lunch late and having repeat food for dinner. Anyhow I enjoy it as much as I enjoy cooking and doing the laundry.

Below are some photos of my lovely herbs. Do be green with envy looking at them.

italian oregano spicin' up my arrabiata

sweet basil for my precious pesto

sage for my pumpkin dip

creeping thyme

planning to make lemon balm cookies using these

mint for my tea

ashitaba a.k.a. tomorrow leaf

mayana is for stomach problems, i think, but i like them better for their colour

I hope you like them as much as I do. Will post updates of my other garden projects soon. Evergreen days to y’all!


a learning discovery

I learned to read before I turned 3 and the best gift I had ever received as a child was an encyclopedia. But I never learned to catch or kick or shoot a ball. As a child I may have been cognitively superior, physically inferior to my peers; but looking at myself now, I am a mother just as every other mother is to her child.

I like to describe myself as a conscious parent. I am extremely careful about the things I say in front of my children and wary of the things they hear from other people, taking extra time to explain impolite words such as “bakla” or “pangit” or “yuck” that they probably hear from their peers. I am particular with the manner of teaching them new things, like naming vegetables or pronouncing words correctly, either by coming up with creative ways for introducing new stuff or taking advantage of opportunities when new concepts suddenly crop up.

But now I feel that this “over-consciousness” may have been pushing back my children’s learning abilities, at least to some extent. I have been an academic achiever as a child and I am most careful about raising expectations that they need to be an achiever like I was. In effect, I may have been delaying the progress of our reading, writing and counting sessions at home because I want to avoid putting “too much pressure” on my children.

We did not enroll Ari in nursery and waited for kindergarten year because we felt then that he might not have been ready. We did the same thing with Uri this year. But you know what? Ari did great in school, contrary to our worries, and maybe Uri could have done better as well.

Now I begin to realize that this “no pressure” attitude is not only unhelpful, but is in fact a refusal to recognize that my children are capable of learning at the same pace as their peers, if not faster. So now I wonder, just how much pressure is “good pressure” and how much is “too much pressure”?

— xxx —

My two children are only a year apart but have very different personalities, intelligences and learning styles. We live in a small apartment and study sessions will tend to overlap. While one is practicing writing and the other is reciting numbers, the other will butt in and the other will grab his brother’s pencil. Even when they should not be, study sessions are sometimes distracting and divisive. So while I know the importance of tailoring teaching methods to a child’s learning style, it gets a bit crazy when I try to do so in our tiny household.

Just this afternoon, I was practicing number recognition with Uri when Ari came home from school. I devised a game where I ask Uri to count blocks in a bowl and choose the card with the same number as the blocks that he counted. I tried the same game with Ari, they both got their numbers right, but to me it seemed like there were two different counting games that have been played.

These kinds of situations prop me to go back to my parenting books and articles as I try to find a way out of this parenting puzzle. Luckily, I chanced upon reading about sensing and intuiting preferences in learning.

Learners who strongly prefer Sensing are those who feel very much at home in the concrete world, learning primarily through their senses, often in a step-by-step manner. They will generally take in information in single pieces, even if very rapidly, but won’t instantly spot links or patterns. Children who have a preference for Sensing tend to like facts and play based on everyday life, and are interested at an early age in what things are for.

By contrast, those who strongly prefer Intuiting often learn by what is not actually seen: grasping the big picture, seeing patterns, and then getting to grips with concepts before grasping fine detail. Children who prefer Intuition are often drawn to fantasy and imaginary worlds, and love hearing stories over and over again. Their favourite kind of game will tend to involve their imaginations, and they may be highly creative, wanting to write stories at a young age.

Most people and particularly children learn in many ways, although a distinct preference for either Sensing or Intuition is usually clear by the time the child is three or four, if not before. And I thank whoever wrote this article because I was finally able to make sense of my children’s learning differences vis a vis my teaching methods.

Nevertheless, I still affirm that children should be encouraged to learn when they are ready and interested, regardless of their learning style. And while it may be helpful to focus on a child’s learning preferences, it may also be wise to encourage both preferences through imaginative and practical play, when situations allow. Ultimately, the best learning method will be child-led, by respecting and responding to a child’s own need to learn at his own pace.

And I could not be much prouder that my children are itching to learn how to read and tell the time before I could even figure out how to teach them to do so.


celebrating good life in puerto princesa

Puerto Princesa City is as straightforward as it can get. So much like haggling for south sea pearls.

My brother and I are not twins, but we were born on the same day. This makes for one unique, ultra-special birthday celebration come September each year. This year, we spent our forever-shared birthday on a short vacation in Palawan.

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how the dough’s not as tough as before

 My grandmother is a baker by profession. She’s tried to teach me to bake cakes since I was in grade school. But I cursed baking ever since my first (flop) pineapple upside down cake, and the rest of the flop cakes and flop cookies that followed.

For reasons I could not explain, Turo and I find ourselves with much more free time now than when we’d lived in the city. We’ve started to enjoy lazy weekends even when we have more housework now than when we lived in my parent’s house. Before we had a laundrywoman and an ironing lady, now I am both. It used to be my parents who took over house repairs and garden work, but in our tiny apartment, this was Turo’s domain. In addition to the usual cooking and cleaning and looking after the kids, now we also take turns fetching Ari to and from school.

Running a household on our own certainly means a lot of work. But it’s the kind of work we lovingly attend to however physically exhausting it gets. Still, at the end of the day we get to sit down with a cup of coffee or a couple bottles of beer before getting some real rest. And in the morning we are woken by our hungry little monsters clamoring for breakfast that we all enjoy without the rush.

I also found myself accessing the internet less, reading more, bonding with my kids more, even cooking more. Proof of this is my recent reunion with la germania. After years of enjoying my lola’s perfect pastries without ever having to learn to make them myself, I realized I still wanted to learn how to bake—bread in particular. I love bread, I love herbs in my bread, but gourmet bread is not as easy to find here. No Rustan’s, no delicatessen anywhere close. If you can’t buy them, why not bake them yourself.

After some serious consideration and more second thoughts, I signed up for Italian Bread, Pizza and Pasta lessons in Sylvia Reynoso-Gala’s Culinary Studio. Up until the first day of my cooking classes I felt reluctant to go. What if I start baking perfect flops again?

But my hands found themselves kneading dough for the first time that day. I felt liberated and satisfied.

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when green gets greener

And so we live a stone’s throw from a forest reserve. We are forever in awe each time we roll down our car windows and see through the tall trees outside and breathe the fresh forest-y air. And all these happen each time we try to avoid traffic and take the PCARRD shortcut. We may have the worst traffic this side of Laguna, but, we have the best shortcut in the world.

UPLB sits at the foothills of the Mt. Makiling Forest Reserves. It is a science community that is up in arms when conservation and preservation is concerned. The environmental consciousness of the UPLB community is one of the many things that has been very exciting for me.

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this provincial life

We have not stepped into a shopping mall in two months. Riding a jeepney has become such a luxury. And remembering to bring an umbrella is a blessing in disguise under the sizzling Los Banos sun.

We have moved into our new home and realized that the process of  “settling down” is indeed very long and tedious. We spent our first weeks painting floors and shelves, buying furniture, installing appliances and finding a new home for all of our stuff… clothes, books, toys. We had to get used to so many things in such a short time–Ari starting school, Uri having a new yaya, the longer trip to the office.

The kids suffered the bad end of this entire adjustment phase. They started getting sick, losing weight. Ari slept through his classes for an entire week before he kicked out the afternoon nap altogether. Uri had a recurrence of separation anxiety because he was never used to not having Kuya around. He suddenly felt really lonesome especially with a new yaya that he barely knew and he would cry his heart out every time anybody stepped out the front door.

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a first look into our first home

This is going to be our last week in the city. And I’m getting some moving day jitters. Are we really ready to leave the comforts of old home behind?

It’s the last weekend before the big move on Saturday. We’re supposed to be moving some of the big stuff today but the moving party (Father & his truck, Buzz lightyear) called in sick. So it was just Turo and I and our trusty Mojito (we just have this thing about naming our cars) and all the moving boxes that we could fit in.

A beautiful Sunday morning drive led us to Los Banos before 10 am. I had to eat otherwise I’d get all cranky, so some Papu’s siomai and bottomless buko juice from Manong Buko powered us up. His buko juice had the same exact taste from 6 or 7 years ago, so much like everything else. LB we are so home!

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wakeboard world

CamSur greeted us warmly once again, this time we brought the kids along and the rest of the family.

We headed to the southernmost south of Luzon on full road trip gear. First to attend Yaya’s wedding, second, to take a mini-vacation in CWC. Yes, we drove some 15 hours from Cainta to Camarines Sur. It was a very long, tiring drive that was way off our predefined itinerary.

We were ready for 12 hours on the road, ready to plunge into hotel beds after a tiring journey, and get up after a few hours rest to wash up, dress up and attend the wedding. But we didn’t expect that we were up for an all-nighter road trip and that we’ll be attending a wedding sleepless, unfed and unbathed.

Attending a wedding in the province is always an experience. The ceremony itself and the reception program is a melting pot of culture, beliefs and traditions as practiced by the families of the bride and groom. The one we attended was held in the town of Baao, Camarines Sur, where the boys’ Yaya hailed.

Baao is a nice, quiet town. There are signs of development as it is right beside Pili, the provincial capital. It was accessible yet remained rural, and income sources were mostly from farming activities. And just like Yaya, the people from Baao were beautiful and quiet and calm.

They boys’ were part of the entourage and Father was principal sponsor. We lost a significant amount of cash in the process, but we enjoyed the humor and simplicity of the occasion. And we didn’t feel shortchanged nor extorted—as we sometimes do in other provincial weddings, where names are called for cash gifts to the couple and the amount you give is counted right in your face as if to show how little you gave, or how much more other people need to give to match yours. We were glad to share some of our blessings with Yaya and his husband, as we owe a lot to her for taking good care of our little boys.

After lunch and the reception program, which Uri slept through, we were all very tired but eager for some airconditioning and bed rest. And so we headed to Camarines Sur Watersports Complex (CWC), where we were booked for the night.

Turo and I were in CWC last Feb as we celebrated his birthday with a tour of the Bicolandia. We so loved it here we knew we had to bring the rest of the family along the next time.

I was worried at first that the kids will get bored because there’s not a lot to do except for wakeboarding, which they can’t, and swimming, which is nothing new to them. I was surprised at how much they enjoyed just watching wakeboarders do their stunts and tricks. We quietly spent a lovely afternoon by the cable park doing just that.

I was never a fan of man-made attractions, I always looked for something nature-y in every place I visit. But CWC changed this perspective altogether. CWC is a government-run facility, mind you. It sits within the vast provincial capitol grounds of Camarines Sur. You get official government receipts when your pay for your hotel accommodation. And, together with Caramoan Island, it has pulled in tourists from all walks of life, making the province the top tourist destination in the country at present.

I especially love the accommodation at CWC. It’s cheap, heck, it’s government rate. And the facilities demonstrate a hint of green and modern architecture. There are container vans converted into double rooms and family rooms. There are solar-powered log cabins and wooden cabanas, affordable tiki huts that have common toilets to cut back on costs. Even the cable park and the winch park has its own water treatment facility so water gets recycled every so often.

Wakeboarding is fast becoming Turo’s favorite sport. Brother tried his hand at it while we were there but the skimboarder had to curse wakeboarding before we even left Bicol. And while sports and me will never go well together, I can definitely say that once in my life I was able to successfully wakeboard, even for a few metres.

And so we left CamSur happy and rejuvenated and ready for another 12-hour driving stretch. I am proud at how much my kids enjoy traveling, even on long road trips such as this one, which is a first for them. We are definitely coming back, and we are tinkering with the possibility of an even longer trip on the road—maybe Davao? Who knows.


the toddler and the machine

Day in, day out, Ari pesters me with requests to play computer games. And while I remain impressed at how easily he has learned to navigate the computer, I get increasingly worried at how addicting the computer can be to my 4-year old.

Computers have become such a necessity nowadays even I find it hard to get by without accessing the internet at least once in a day. Working as an independent consultant, my netbook is practically my office–data storage, processing and presentation all happen here. I normally work from home and it should not come as a surprise that my kids are as interested in tinkering with the computer as they often see me do.

The computer is a fantastic learning tool. My kids plays number and alphabet games, puzzle and matching games using the computer. Imagine the cost of having to buy a new puzzle each week as Ari gets tired of the puzzles he’s already mastered putting together, or a new set of flash cards every so often because Uri’s already memorized all the pictures on them.

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