Yeah, I have the time to say...

I LOST YET ANOTHER 5 POUNDS DESPITE HAVING NO WORKOUT SINCE I STARTED WORKING!!!

yeay!!!

Okay, back to being Internet-deprived...

A new job where I have yet to acquire a much-needed computer and a working DSL connection (and a project that Glenn and I are doing when we get home) calls for no blogging.

No blogging at all.



But I have a cute little boy to come home to.
Yeay!

My poor baby boy has red spots on his face. They have made his cute face their home since last week. The doctor said it was tigdas-hangin, viral something, I forgot the term. She said that because he has complete flu shots and measle vaccine, he just has spots and not fever. Most kids have fever for a few days until the spots come out. Another good thing is that it's only a few spots on his face, instead of all over his body.

No medication needed, she said. We just need to keep him hydrated with water and juices, which he, thankfully, loves. So we've stocked up on Nestle juices and Pedialyte (the ones with the fruity flavors). Mikey needs all these fluids to strengthen his body against the spots and any other stuff that comes along with them. The spots are itchy and irritating. Poor boy! Plus, he doesn't have much of an appetite nowadays. I have to force him to take milk or solids. He just wants his juice please, thankyouverymuch.

His cold is back, that nasty nasty cold. His nose is either runny or seriously clogged. I have to put Petroleum Jelly under his nostrils to avoid soreness from all the wiping. He complains when I do that - put jelly or wipe his nose.

All of this sums up to a very fussy baby boy come sleeping time. Sorry, Daddy, it's not my sleep alone that gets disturbed 'cause the little man loves rubbing his head against you, kicking your face every now and then, having the blanket all to himself and wailing in the middle of your sweet dreams.

But we did have a treat yesterday. Daddy decided to count Mikey's gold coins, aka hoarded 5 and 10 peso coins amounting to ka-ching! ka-ching!. Mikey was having the time of his life messing up the neatly stacked coins and throwing them all around him like some new millionaire or lottery winner. And of course, one thing he will never forget to do, try to taste the clinky coins. (Cue the sound of everyone screaming whenever he tries to put a coin in his mouth.)

Dear Friends,

Allow me to enjoy myself today. Kindly take a look at my weight tracker above. I lost 4 pounds over the weekend. I am now at 126!

I was aiming to lose 5 pounds before the month ends. So far, I've lost 6 this month. I've surpassed my pre-pregnancy weight which is 129 and am halfway to my ultimate goal - 110!

Every pound is so difficult to get rid of. That is why every pound shed off is a victory for me. Imagine how happy and excited I was when I finally touched the 120s last Saturday at 128 and ended up at 126 yesterday. My diet and exercise do pay off however gradually.

And now I have a happy problem, I seriously need a tightening lotion for my tummy. Having been pregnant several months ago and having lost a lot of my jelly belly, I really need to firm up my tummy skin. Gross!

Glenn was so happy for me that he said we'd go to a place I haven't stepped into in a looongg time - Jollibee. Yeah, I know...fastfood. Nice way to congratulate me. But at this point in time of my journey to my ideal body and weight, I have gained enough confidence and trust in myself to know that I have controlled my eating habits quite well. And fastfood will not derail me anymore. Fastfood used to be our lifestyle when we were a newly married couple in Manila. Glenn didn't want me to cook dinner after a long day at work. Plus, he knew that a pregnant woman needs all the rest she can get.

So we enjoyed our spicy chicken. Full of cholesterol. And our coke. Full of caffeine and sugar. But I realized I was no longer the unsatisfied eater who will order something more, probably a pie or a sundae, after my meal. I felt that what we ordered was already more than what I usually eat at home.

While we were eating, we noticed a framed picture of an old couple inside Jollibee. It was a sweet and heartwarming picture of an elderly couple having breakfast. Glenn said, "I wonder how we'll look like at that age." I said "you'll probably still be the thin guy you are."

Glenn: "And you? At what age do you think you'll let go and be fat?"

Me: "I don't think I'll ever be fat when we're older because when I get to be 50 to 60 years old, there's the danger of becoming a diabetic. It's no longer for appearance's sake but for health's sake."

Plus, this...is too good to let go.

We're such a loving family. We share everything. We even share our virus.

First, Daddy had the sniffles and felt like a ton of bricks was weighing him down. Then came Mikey with the runny nose and the fussy sleepytimes. Last came Mommy with the virus brewing inside her, having a hard time with a clogged throat and a terrible headache.

We are all still feeling a little sick. Ugh. I'm really praying we all get better soon.

I wonder how my mom did it. That no matter how bad a cold my brother and I catch and no matter how terribly sick we get, my mom never got sick. My mom never caught our bug.

My mom was such a great mom. She really knew how to take care of us. She prepared the best meals and bought us nice clothes despite her tight budget. She always thought of us and our safety. She sacrificed so many years of her life for us. She fought for us and endured the cruelty that was my father.

Our relationship as mother and daughter was incomparable. But now, I can't say the same about us anymore.

I wonder when she will be happy and satisfied about me and my family. I wonder when her heartbreaks I seemingly cause stop. I wonder when she would stop complaining about me and criticizing the things that I do and share it with people she doesn't know very well. I wonder how I could find out things like that and not get hurt. I wonder how I could once again become acceptable in her eyes.

I've been nursing a heartache a couple of nights now. How does that happen? That no matter how sweet I am to her, no matter what good thing I share with her...I would always always find out that she's still not happy. I would still find out from other people that she's still saying things against me - that I never do the right thing with my son and I always hurt her feelings.

Normally, it would take a week or more for me to get over something like this. But now, I choose not to let it brew any longer. I send her messages like I didn't hear anything from other people. I act like nothing happened. That everything is happy and bright. It is, after all, her right to feel what she wants to feel and to think what she wants to think. I want to respect that.

So what does a girl do when she prefers not to go crazy over something? Or specifically, what do I do to stay sane nowadays? Hello, Michael Scofield. Be my hero. I turn to my trusty player, TV and remote and drown the sorrow away with a heart-pounding marathon of Prison Break, which, by the way, is just freaking amazing.

I love cool geeks! Yeah! I mean hot ones.

I sat today for 11 hours straight in a salon.

Yep. I am one of those women oh so blessed with curly hair. It's unmanageable, dry, dead, damaged. So I finally had my long overdue trip to the salon to have my hair rebonded and treated.

My hair is so straight, smooth and soft right now. I had to starve myself for half a day to remain at my seat and have all the treatments finished. My butt and tail bone hurt from all the sitting down.  And the part I hate the most -- not being permitted to wash my hair for the next three days. I don't know if I'll be able to last that long. Oh well, the sacrifices you have to go through to be beautiful. I hope I do look better now.

Money-wise, the treatments were quite reasonably priced. But I doubt if I will be able to maintain this hair. All the following treatments needed every month....yeah, right. I'm too lazy to even use lotion on my body.

I had an added joy, a side dish to my rebonded hair. I had my toenails painted a very light pink and asked the mani-pedi girl to give it a French tip. My toes look sooo pur-ty and dainty. Helloo, Charlotte York!

Sorry, I just enjoy being a girl sometimes. Right, Jen? "At a party..."  

The one where Mikey freaked Mommy and Daddy out

We were a little shaken up over the weekend. Mikey suddenly woke up at 4am last Sunday, wailing and shouting, tears streaming down his cheeks endlessly. Glenn tried to comfort him while I hurried to give him a bottle.

He pushed the bottle away and kept screaming. If you heard him cry, you'd really pity him. Something was definitely causing him pain. We carried him, distracted him, rubbed his back, sang to him, danced him around. Nothing worked. Then, his temperature changed. He became warmer and warmer by the minute. It was our first time to experience together Mikey getting sick.

I tried to use a cold and wet hand towel on him. Glenn went out to buy Koolfever. The whole time he was away. Mikey kept shouting for his Da-dee. He's quite the Daddy's boy, you know. I was relieved when he was finally back. He wasn't able to find Koolfever, though. The drugstores that were open had no Koolfever. We were stuck with the towel and Mikey's fever medicine.

After an hour of panic and a little prayer in my heart, Mikey started to babble. His temperature was dropping. He started to play on the bed again. He was slowly but surely becoming okay. All throughout Sunday, Mikey was feeling better. By noon, his fever was completely gone.

Now, Mom and Dad -- they're a completely different story. Let's just say we almost shit in our pants.


The one where I rant about my body and this town

Having lived in my husband's hometown for almost a year now, I sure have started to like a few things around here already. Like experiencing no traffic, every store, clinic and grocery is so near the house, the unpolluted atmosphere among other things.

But what I really absolutely hate about this town is how people feel free to criticize you and your body to your face. They do it with gusto that they don't feel they're criticizing you at all. Yeah, my husband will say that they don't mean bad. He is from here after all so he totally understands them.

But me... count me out. Never will I consider "you're fat" or "you haven't lost weight yet" an ordinary comment, much less an acceptable one.

Countless times have I heard from my husband's relatives, acquaintances and people I don't know that I am fat. I am fat. I am fat. I am fat.

For those who are carrying extra weight and loving it, forgive me. I respect who you are and your views. I totally understand. But as for me and my body, we totally reject vehemently any comment about me being fat. I have heard it too many times already and, my friends, it stings.

It stings so much that I dread reunions and gatherings of my husband's clan. Yes, clan...'cause they're so many they can easily populate the world. Don't get me wrong, they're very nice people. They are sweet, friendly and very interesting. But the minute they start telling me that I'm fat....uhm, where's the door? Can I go home now?

What's worse is that I also get the same comments from acquaintances (read: talked to them once or twice) and people I don't know (read: first time I ever saw them). Uhm, are we close friends?

Is it my fault that my husband's aunts and female cousins are slender, even sexy? Is it my fault that I don't have their genes or their body type? I mean I don't look anorexic after giving birth...is that so bad? Is it my fault that I live in a town, in a culture where national beauty queens hail from? What is this? Hollywood? This is a freaking small town. Why are they so hard on women like me?

Gad...I lived in the city all my life and not once was I offended about a 'fat' comment. People in the city seem so so nice all of a sudden. They are much better in that department. They are much better in keeping their mouth shut when they don't have anything nice to say. They steer clear of conversations about a woman's age, weight or built.

'Cause don't you think I already know that I'm fat? Actually, let me correct that. I am not fat. I just have a belly I need to get rid of. I just had a baby 9 months ago. If that is too long for you...it isn't for me. I had a C-section and was, therefore, not allowed to resume working out right away. But now, I work my butt off every single day and have cut down on my intake significantly. As a result, I have lost weight already. And I, I just have to say this, don't have flabs in my arms. I don't have 'wings' -- something some thin women unfortunately have and something I am most definitely thanking God for.

Please please please...I don't like me ranting. I prefer happy thoughts. And for that to happen, look me in the eye when you talk to me. Don't stare at my tummy. It is not that big to be an entirely different person. I have it under control.

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I was having a really terrible morning. I lost it.

Our yaya (nanny/housekeeper) was really getting to my nerves. She has an attitude that she only shows when I'm the only one around. To everybody else, she's the happy, dependable person you can easily be fond of.

Don't get me wrong. I can be really fond of her. I help her cook, praise her cooking always, watch TV with her, confide in her...heck, I even gave her a foot spa once. I wanted to treat her the way I would treat a friend or a sister. I never order her around. As much as possible, I do what I can instead of giving orders. And when I do, it's only when I'm unable and I always always say please.

I'd like to believe that I am the nicest person around her. I treat her very very well. Which is why it puzzles me that she's really obedient and never complains to anyone else but me. She does what she's told and even has the initiative to do what she's not asked to do. That's how she is to everyone but me.

I've seen her tantrums. I've heard her complain endlessly. I've seen her lock her door and not utter a word to me. I've observed a lot of days when she would not take Mikey because she's tired and all - resulting to my missing my workout. These happened countless times. And I never ever told her off. I always gave her the space she needed.

My mom, who recently visited, said I've been too kind. And that is what I've done wrong. And that is the reason why she treats me differently. But what should I do? I'm not exactly her boss. That's why I don't act like one. I know my place and I always treat people with respect. I don't assert myself beyond my rightful position.

But today, oh today, I was really fed up. There's no need to write what exactly happened. I was so angry at her. And kept cursing her in my mind. I was trembling and close to tears in anger. But hey, I was still nice enough to just keep it inside me, lock myself in the room and let Glenn deal with it later.

But my friends, the horror I'm capable of. I knew I was able to control myself and keep it inside. But I cannot erase the fact that I was too unimaginably angry that my head still hurts from all the bad thoughts I was thinking.

And I felt bad because though I did not do her wrong, I know I still sinned in my mind. And when you do realize you've entertained really bad thoughts, they linger longer than you want them, too.

I'm okay now. Good things have already happened to me today so I finally have the strength to get over it. I talk to her now like nothing happened. I treat her like I've always done and without her knowing how I felt this morning.

But my head is still throbbing and I'm still a bit weak in the knees. Anger has too much energy, too much power, that it always leaves me limp and reeling.

just when i've entertained a new drama in my head
thinking i'm just an empty frame hanging on a wall
you'd come and admire me
and remind me why you bought me after all

just when i've thought you'll never notice me
no matter how i dress up and slim down
you'd come and let me know
i've always been the beauty you've seen me to be

just when i've just started to mope and pout
because you rushed out the door without a word
you'd come back and tell me
where you've gone and how i should have been there with you

just when i've begun to feel small and guilty
believing you'll hate me for the wrong i do
you'd come and embrace me
and make me feel i'm as perfect as i can get

just when i've indulged myself into a pity party
and tell myself i'm difficult to love
you'd come and tell me
that you wouldn't trade me for all the riches in the world

just when i've resigned to thinking
i don't deserve the good things in life
you'd come and offer me
anything that would make my life fulfilling

just when i've relaunched myself into insecurity
and cower into the shadow that i create
you'd come and hold out your hand
and tell me it's lovely to see me step into the light

just when i've thought that love is like this
or love is like that
you'd come and kiss those thoughts away
and show that love is here and love is you and i.