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Two more days and we’re off to move in to our own home. With a relationship with mood swings like a PMS-stricken woman, it would be a rough ride for sure. It’s not that negativity has touched its icy finger on my spirit, but we have to consider every angle we can and should see. It can’t be all smiles.

For once, the all-time excitement I have been feeling for a year now is starting to wane. I can’t let fear sink in; I can’t let weakness get into me. I am afraid, but I’d be stupid not to be afraid. I don’t lie to myself.

We have packed most of our things last night. I can feel his fear while he was stashing away his law books. I want him to know or feel or telepathically whatsoever understand that it’s okay to be afraid. It’s okay to know that you are afraid because you don’t know what lies ahead. Who knows the future anyway? No matter how organized you want your life can be, the future gives you a whack at times you don’t expect. I want him to know that we’re in this together. We can make good things happen, and we can face and solve every problem we can encounter.

I wish he’d communicate without literally blowing his lungs and to not think on the downside of things all the time. I need him to be dependable and to be man enough to keep a family together. I need him to understand that money is never everything. It’s just one single thing. It’s important, but it cannot buy true peace and happiness. I need him to understand that we need him. We need him strong and able and peaceful and present.

I pray he’ll get over all the hang-ups and start good memories with us. Together we can do this and make things work.

God, be with us all the time and guide us through this new journey.


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To read the exact words I have been trying to say to my face ironically brought a calming effect on my tired bones.

From Dashboard Confession’s post about June, here’s my version…

Yes, it’s June. It’s ending, actually. I’m tired of being brave and homeless at the same time. I need to either keep the first or solve the second. I need to rest and be free.

Sorry sa poor quote. I just find the words so tumpak to what I am right now.

And thanks! 😀

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to march out of March
and leave without a trace
but no, I won’t
however you spell

once I was told
to sleep with loneliness
to find the true companion

twice I was told
to leave love behind
to behold something more divine

thrice and more
I was told and sold
to uncertainty
to succumb the typical
to gamble and risk
with an assurance
of personal experiences

all the time in the world
all the chances are mine
all the possibilities played
and I must play


he is my friend
I cannot leave a friend behind.

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I know this might sound unfair to my husband that he’s not in the title. Well, for one, he doesn’t want me to stop working. I understand the inner plea of help to finance our little family–he’s too cute to say that.

Last month was a turmoil. Inside. The world can still hear my Sharon Cuneta laugh. However, deep inside, the war between being a full-time mom and a working mom is at its peak. All the while, I wanted to tell my husband I’d like to stop working and be with the kids. While all that time, I was trying to convince myself to go on with my job–the job I never dreamed of having.

Whoever dreamed of designing books? Really, I think no one unless you’re in college and your degree is related to designing or publishing. But this job made my day. This job rocks! This job–book layout or designing the interior of a book–is a subconscious dream that came true; and the pay, my friend, is great. Literally, the pay is fat; and figuratively, the pay is awesome–I get my name printed in every book I get to design. How cool is that?

One more side of the job is that this is me and mine. This is something that I am passionate with. This is something I can tell my grandkids about. Something I can show my kids I can do with confidence and with a happy smile. This is the me my mother knows as her daughter. She’s always overwhelmed about the books I and my sister read and have since grade school days.

The other side of this coin is my kids–the life of my life. The two things I would not alter if I’d be given a chance to get inside a time machine. With work between them and me, I feel guilty most of the time. Guilty that I can’t be there with them during the day like other moms. Guilty that I can’t send to and fetch them from school everyday like other moms. Guilty that when they get home from school, they won’t find me there waiting for them. Guilty that I don’t cook for them because we don’t have our own kitchen, our very own home yet.

I feel the need to stop working to be with the kids–to be a real mom to them. Apparently, this is the modern era where moms go out to work and not manage the household. I explained to each of my kids why I have to go to work everyday whenever they cry and hug my leg on my way out. They find it quite absurd to work so I can buy them toys, clothes, food, video games, and to pay for tuition. Papa has to do that part, they say. How I wish life is as easy as that. But no. It’s not. But what’s there to do? Win the lottery?

What I have come up to appease my ever-growing guilt is to believe that everything is temporary. The kids will grow and the needs will not be the same as they are right now. I know more will be expected from each of us, but that thought is being held in the back of my mind as of the moment. Right now, I have to focus on getting my daily goals on track so I can come home with more energy than before. With that, I can spend hours with the kids before we retire at night. Because I can’t send  them off to school in the morning, I will fetch them from school in the afternoon. Because I can’t cook for them during weekdays, I will cook for them during weekends. We can spend an hour for assignments together each night and watch movies on Friday and Saturday nights. Do some art and other crazy things on Sunday mornings and nap together in the afternoons. Sounds simple, and in reality a difficult sked to keep. But God helps to those who make things work out. I know and I believe.

I can’t quit from work, and I can’t take my kids for granted. They need me. God gave them to me as my charges, my responsibility. I take care of them because I’m their mom. But there are other needs to be met too. Most of these are for them and for their future. I know they understand. They’re smart kids.


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ay, for life

I didn’t mean

to be full of meaning

to an entry

in your dictionary

why do I bother you so?


my ways are not


my belief

is nothing to you


why want such a mirror

when you can just look 

at your self

flatter, narcissus


nothing is nothing

and nothing

means non

the un should never be

taken as nothing

but the mere lack

of enthusiasm


I may be blind

but you are

ignorant of such blindness


all there is you see

is your foolish self

so full of you.

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tua na sab



og ipsot

sa tapok

ang nagtapad

og lingkod




sa liab

dayon sap-ong

padung sa ilong







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the dangerous game
of pretense
of who to turn to
who to despise
who to pester

when the storm busts
it should turn the nest over
not pass by with just
as much as a flip 
of your dead hair

honesty slash reality
hits hard
throws back
knocks down
the best pretentions of sanity
the dashing walls of arrogance

spare me
your patronage
i am not a statue.

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