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Posts Tagged ‘motherhood’

Dear Nana,

I feel like a coward when I think of giving up when your life was harder than mine.
I feel guilty when a thought of leaving invades my mind when you have endured everything.
I cry when I feel weak and all you had was pride and courage and kindness to get through life.

When I think of you, it’s more like having a real heroine a trisikad’s ride away; and all of a sudden, I stop crying, I smile, and continue being me.

Thank you for the courage. Thank you for the love and the never-ending support.

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I didn’t realize I am in this situation until my five-year-old told me her life is boring.

I work at home. I requested my bosses to grant me this special arrangement since  we are moving to the countryside which would take around three hours of travel time each day and my work is on the net anyway. God is good and he touched my bosses’ hearts.

I expected this would be a challenge, but not as challenging as what I am experiencing right now.

Part of my plan is to be a hands-on mom, a homemaker, a worker, a hobbyist, and an artist all rolled into one thick bundle. It’s been a month since we moved in, and I haven’t done an inch about the crafts, the readings, etc. I expected a slow turn of events and voila—so slow turn of events.

I haven’t been thinking about being a mom in action—to be with the kids. I thought it will just come naturally. Then there’s this screaming kid. “My life is so boring.” My emergency alarm is flashing all of a sudden. Oh my! What have I been doing? To keep them busy with things appropriate with their age aside from running around the neighborhood with friends, I did nothing—literally nothing. I was all work and sweeping and washing the dishes and doing the laundry and telling them to stop fighting. Gaaaa!

To remedy this alarming declaration, we will do artsy things three times a week during mornings since her prep classes are in the afternoon. We started by watching Art Attack. It’s a great start to learn arts and crafts. They have simple crafts, drawings, and tips that my daughter can make. Yesterday, we made party hats and she glued some shiny sequins on them to make them pretty. Tomorrow, we will make party banners and for Friday, we will make paper cups. Sounds like a party is coming, huh. But I bet she’ll be ready enough by the time her birthday comes.

So close yet so far. I need to have quality time with my kids. It doesn’t mean I work at home I am doing my mom job. Presence and time should go hand in hand. Making arts and crafts which gives us tangible results of our quality time together are actually good memories in the making.

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Wait

She misses her Nanay. She won’t be coming until the afternoon, so I told my daughter, “All we can do is wait.”

To explain the word “wait” to a five-year-old is quite a challenge. You need to cite examples of waiting, and you have to point at the clock which would just look like numbers in a circle with three hands rotating around it. I bet she wonders why people have to follow that device. I bet she wonders why we are bound with time when our desires are boundless and our mind can think about just anything we want.

It is difficult to keep waiting when all that’s left of your wall-like patience is a thin mist.  When your stubbornness wanes and your spark dies and when you feel so empty you cannot even dig a particle of dust in that hollow, how to keep waiting? Waiting for change takes courage, a daily dose of it; and on some tough days, a double to a bottle.

I have been saying to myself to wait and to wait even more and to build patience back up brick by brick. It’s a tiring work, but it’s a decision I have to keep. It’s unusual of me to say this, but I’ll scream it anyway, “AJA!” I am not a fan of the soap where this came from, but her optimism is really contagious even though she is just a character of a fiction.

I wish I can explain to my daughter a secret to keep the waiting a less boring and frustrating work. I wish I can tell her to think happy thoughts to keep going and keep waiting in a simple way especially when she can’t just stop crying.

I keep waiting and wait I shall. My God is a god who can see and who can hear. I shall wait on the Lord. 

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The first point of the article is true to the bones. I write for myself–my thoughts, my happiness, my anger, the fun things I encounter.

When I looked at the stats, I can see patterns of what posts are most viewed, the Cebuano poetry. I think that maybe some Cebuano literature students are trying to find something for this assignment, papers, etc. That makes me happy; at least I’m helpful in a small way. 😀 With that development, I tried to write poetry more, but found that I lost that random thought-write process I use when writing. You know, when something pops in your mind, you write it on anything writable. Good thing my work PC has sticky notes where all my thoughts are posted all over two monitors. Just kidding; I arrange my sticky notes–OC, hahaha. So I resolved to write whenever that spark comes.

Back to the question, “who is your reader?” To answer this, I am still my number one reader. As I have written in the About page, this is my online diary, though I don’t write daily. I write for myself because I love to express what I think and feel. Just like that.

But on a bigger picture called the future, I want to leave something for my kids to gag while reading. Really, I want them to know something about me more than what they do know me physically, and I hope WordPress will still be here by the time I give them my account name. I spend like twelve hours away from home, and lucky for me, I can still write when I am at work, during breaks of course.

~
KiPet, I hope you find my blog worth your time. Maybe when you read this, you’d be in your teens, hacking the PC for whatever reasons and you discovered that mom is keeping a blog, not just one but three. Whatever is here is written from my observations, and of course, from my point of view. If you think otherwise, that’s great! It means you are just like me. Cheers to life! May we are still friends the time you read this and you are over that petty sibling fights and you read a lot. Love, Mama. 😀

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lie to others if you like, but never lie to your children
especially about the reasons why things exists and how things work
if you don’t know, say that you don’t know, and find it out; you will both learn in the process
if you know, do not alter the truth just because it is convenient to your lazy personality

 

-to lazy parents

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After a light weighing of things, as every mother would prefer, I resigned from work in favor of taking care of my kids. We have no nanny and the kids have been sick frequently, plus their school performance is not really that good.

At night, I think about the job that I love to do and left—book interior design. I rack my brain with thoughts of what ifs and what if nots. It’s quite disheartening that I was left with one choice. Not that I don’t like to take care of the kids, but there are bills to pay and I need to be outside the house to get out of stress (not from the kids, mind you).

As the second week ends, I have more happy thoughts and plans than regrets. I am not over with the sadness of leaving something I love to do aside from good pay, benefits, great working environment, and the best shift hours. But I have to move forward and make plans. I know there are a lot of things I can do to earn (the clean, legit way). I can work from home tutoring kids, opening a store or a laundry shop, work online like teach ESL, etc. I am now looking at the bright side of being in the house most of the day. Top of these is being there with and for my kids. I can see more smiles from them now than when I was away at work. Grades are improving in a matter of two weeks! How good is that? Peter got a 97 in Language and Kirah gets star tattoos (as she calls them) almost everyday!

Speaking of my little girl, I now can understand the pressure my past nannies had. It seems that people in the house affects my daughter’s behavior a lot. She tends to shift from one decision to another because someone else tells her to then goes to a dramatic tantrum when stopped. The problem lies in the person who wants to just say anything for the sake of using their mouths to talk without using their brains. A child’s personality is molded by the surroundings, including people. Parenting is really tough with other people influencing the children. Well, it is great to have a lot of elders around as long as they help in the good upbringing of the kids. However, I don’t find other people around my kids healthy for their personality development. If I can just move now, I would.

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I have always believe there is God. Not because the idea was taught to me, but because I know that there’s someone up above watching over us every minute. I can feel his presence when I’m down and when I’m happy. When times are good or bad, I know he let me be. He’s a just father—never pushing too much, never lacking care and love. 

Then came a certain moment in my life where I questioned everything about religion and the upheld doctrines, traditions, and practices. That time, I felt that I was deceived, mocked upon because something inside me told me that the religion is of good cause but there is something wrong with what the religious do. I stopped going to church because I felt it useless to go there with a heavy heart towing two kids while the husband barks blames on me for being late on the way to mass. I felt less a person, not worthy to go to church. I decided to stop believing. I stopped being a person. I was transformed into a nagging beast, full of revenge in my heart. Then one day, I don’t know when, I changed. I decided to change. I decided to let God come and find me. I knew I was lost, thus the decision to stay put from my wild wanderings, and wait silently. I waited for myself to heal. I knew I can only do it with patience. I know God was with me. He’s pulling me back on track when I stray away. This journey toward healing of my inner self and toward spirituality took a toll. I wasn’t able to teach my kids the wonders and love of God. I didn’t talk to them about God. I was so engrossd with myself, I forgot my kids.

However, God is true. He exists. He finds a way into every soul’s heart.

Last night, my eight-year-old declared, “Ma, Pa, we should pray before going to sleep tonight.”

Maybe they were taught at school. Maybe he was afraid of nightmares. But the biggest and most reasonable maybe is: maybe because God is with him. He found a way to get inside my son’s innocent heart and his love shone brightly it reached us. 

Beautiful, isn’t it?

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