Friday, March 30, 2001

You are so beautiful to me.
You are so beautiful to me.
You’re everything I long for.
You’re everything I need.
You are so beautiful to me.


I'm had.

Thursday, March 29, 2001

I have always been afraid of my father more than my mother. Although my mom is the one who always gets mad, Darling my father is the one who really scares me. Darling just squints his eyes and I'm already in one corner, while Mommy, well she has to scream and shout, and jump, and twist, and snap before she gets anything out of me.

Mommy tried her best to rationalize why. She came up with all sorts of reason why I would follow Darling in a snap and not her. I explained to her, "maybe because you always get mad that it has become normal for me to see you mad." On the other hand Darling's temper showed up once-in-a-blue-moon. It was a novelty for me! I knew I better listen.

Now that I am a parent, I struggle with this too, the fact that my son is scared more of his father than me. Why is that? Donald just squints his eyes and Pen would sit in one corner. Poor me, I have to scream and shout, and jump, and twist, and snap before I get anything out of my son.

Donald try to clear my mind by saying that the reason why children are more likely to be afraid of their father is "sexist". He said that from the very beginning, boys and girls are treated differently. Parents tend to treat girls gentler than boys. When these girls grow up to be mommies they tend to apply this upbringing to their children and become gentler caretakers themselves. Children, as smart as they are, just behave accordingly. They know that moms can easily get swayed, so they know who to mess up with. Mommy, eto pala yung reason. So stop banging your head why I am scared more of Darling, I'm just reacting accordingly. How mothers always bend rules for their children. Kids can not just be tricked into believing that mothers can really be strict, when in fact our hearts melt with just a flutter of these children's innocent eyes.

Like yesterday, I was freaking angry.

The boy crossed the mark many times yesterday, BINGO! I was ready to throw him out of the house... or I could throw myself out of the house, sleep in a hotel perhaps. Simply put, I was that angry, I don't want to have anything to do with the little boy. When Donald put him to sleep, that's the time I went down from my self-imposed isolation in the master bedroom. I ate dinner quite late, and that was the time when my anger turned into frustration, and then sadness. Ah, a mother's love affair with her child! We're talking of a 6-yr old boy here. I slept with a heavy heart, and woke up with just the same this morning.

Of course, I still don't want to have anything to do with the little boy. I guess that's how I deal with my frustration. Donald prepared the boy's breakfast. I just walked by the little boy, not minding him really throughout breakfast. In spite of myself, I do the usual routine of choosing what clothes he (Pen) should wear for the day. I lay those clothes neatly onto his bed. Then, I speak to him as brief as I can giving him instructions of what to do.

It is raining outside and it confuses me. I am the kind of Mom who is so protective of my child that not once to my power has the boy been subjected to any kind of discomfort. I don't let him get soaked, get cold, he knows nothing of life like that. I drive him to school most especially when it rains. However, the argument that I am so soft and gentle backfires. I know children can get spoiled, especially when they think that everything they have is birthright.

While I'm arguing with myself like this, thinking of the rain and the logistics...

The boy came to me all dressed up. I saw his disheveled hair and I told him he has to comb his hair. Combing is something Pen is not good at, while he is combing his hair he flashes me this helpless look in his eyes. That helpless eyes of his! Have I told you that my son is damn cute? Yes, I'm a mother. He has this pinkish, blushing cheeks that is highligted when he's upset. He has this huge pretty eyes, with long lashes that flutters as if on cue when he needs help. Like a whirlpool, I'm drawn. Begrudgingly I'm taken. As if in defeat, I took the comb and comb his hair.

But I won't be beat just like that.

In a rainy rather cold morning, I let the boy go out by himself.

Right there, he was standing across our house. He was holding his cute, little, black umbrella, wearing his little, red coat, out in the rain waiting for the school bus to come.

And I... I watched him by the window with a bleeding heart.

Tuesday, March 27, 2001

This just reminds me of how cold doctors can be.

I like doctors basically because I like being taken care of. However, all doctors are suspect. Having the license to be a doctor doesn’t automatically make any of them fool proof or even “smart”. What I am trying to say is that however likeable, or believable a doctor can be (at times) treat them at arm's length. Don’t take what they say as bible.

What I advocate is to be knowledgeable be proactive. You see, doctors are a part of one big business. So... doctors can and may prescribe medicine to the best of their advantage, not yours. They can and may prescribe treatments to the best of their advantage not yours. So please…

I have a colleague who is a doctor. One time another colleague aired her complaints about doctors being careless. The doctor just said something about how busy and answerable they are to the insurance providers? Ah huh...

Homeopathy is not such a bad idea. Being a believer of nature, energies, and natural occurrence, homeopathy should be considered and be a part of the maintenance of our health.

Tuesday, March 13, 2001

You know those moments when you wake up with an incredible feeling of peace, calm, and wonderful anticipation. I felt that way this morning.

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First of all, yesterday was a bad day. I have to rush the little boy to the doctor because he can not breathe. It must be the coughing I thought. High pollen index must be the culprit as I didn't feel well myself. At the doctor's office, before I knew it the boy is given ventillator treatment, and then we were rushed to the x-ray room. X-RAY ROOM! What the...

It turned out that the boy has pnuemonia. ??? The doctor didn't require the boy to be hospitalized though. So we went home, with little Pen accorded all the special treatment that a pneumonia sufferer deserved. Like the doting Mama, he had my full - 100% attention. (As if that was not always the case.) For an added bonus, I had him sleep on our bed so I could monitor him with ease overnight. God forbid, I just wanted to know he was still breathing. ;) He breathe all night alright, he's alive!

So I woke up feeling the crisp sheets. I looked out the window at the cloudy, dark sky. I felt peace, calm, and a wonderful sense of anticipation as I gaze at my son. I felt happy, I can only guess why.

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Saturday, March 10, 2001

Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a gift and not giving it. Anonymous

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Everyone who knows me upclose and personal are aware how much expressive I am. I am that kind who never leaves a corner unturned.

Especially when it comes to saying thanks.

I developed these traits specifically because of Donald’s influence.

He’s the one who always says thanks, and shows appreciation to people and most especially to me, to every little thing that I do. Every waking moment that we share, he will look into my eyes and gives me this sweet fetching smile of his, just for being there. When we kiss goodnight, he will tell me, “thanks!” It is the sweetest gesture ever. For me, he is the sweetest thing ever that I have no reason but to be full of gratitude myself!


I believe it is on top of people’s need to feel and know that they are appreciated. Being appreciated is corollary to being loved. Can you think of being loved and not being appreciated?

How many people do you hear of complaining that they don’t feel appreciated?

Sadly human ego and carelessness keep people from expressing this feeling of gratitude.

Don’t.

Saying thanks is an encouraging act of kindness itself. So don’t miss it, don’t miss the opportunity. Thank all that you should. Thank all that you want. After all, saying thanks will cost ya nothing. It is free! So give it away.


Speaking of saying thanks, I have something to thank all of you for.

For coming to my site, thank you.

I have been online for just a month, what can I say? I don’t know how it happened but I am at the top 40 sites in WebbieWorld. Also, there I am at the top of People’s Choice. Thanks.

60 million times.

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Remember: Thank all that you should. Thank all that you want.

Thursday, March 08, 2001

The strongest principle of growth lies in human choice. George Elliot

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In a month that alembong.org is up, I make so many changes to it I myself can not catch up.

Everytime I make these changes, I look at the site with passion and content. It is a feeling that lasts about a couple of sec. (an exaggeration, but something like that). Maybe it is woman-like to be fickle. Maybe it is human-like to want to constantly change. Or maybe it is the way of progress to stay discontented.

I am a cyber trooper enjoying my cyber journey.

Thursday, March 01, 2001

I realize that many of the Filipino bloggers are teenagers. If you look at the internet connection statistics in the country (Philippines) not even 1% of the population will have permanent online access. It is correct to assume then that this hobby, of blogging by young people, has become elitist. What do you expect, of course it is! I can only imagine how this affects the goings-on, of these teens, out there.

I discussed to DJ over dinner last night this observation.

He said that during his teens, the discussion would be around satellite television and who’s who on foreign t.v. Those without the satellite t.v., or whatever high tech gadget they are discussing at the moment, would be left out.

I took a mouthful of the yummy crab.

I wonder where these people we are talking about are now? How they are now? Have they let go of this “I have this, I’m cool” attitude? Maybe.

Then the lights went dimmer, the strobe lights lit, and the servers started to dance across.

I looked at my son so entertained by what he saw.

I put my eyes back to the dancing servers.

This is good. The food is excellent too.

I made a mental note to go back at Joe’s Crab Shack.

Also, a mental note about my son. I know I give him things here and there, but to all my power, this boy will grow up motivated, not proud.

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Remind me.