No Punchline. Just A Straight Up Plea.

It just gets to me, you see.

People should stop calling Mayweather "gayweather" for refusing to fight Pacquiao. I know, I get it, it's beyond annoying for Floyd to do that. Grand Rapids is my second home, so it's especially frustrating for me since Floyd's also from there. But calling him by that monicker is like saying gay people are cowards. They are not.

"Gay" is not a derogatory term. I can think of so many other terms that could be more appropriate (none of them are GP). So, please. Stop it.

Thank you.

It's the Final Countdooooown! (Teeneeneen-deeeen, teeneeneendeendeen...)

I posted this on my Facebook wall a few months ago, before we knew that we were having a girl. I said then that I was terrified we'd have a girl because I wouldn't know how to handle girls. I'm used to handling boys, and generally, I don't like girls. Haha. x)

Wait, let me qualify: I think girls are harder to handle than boys. Boys are less of a mystery. Girls are vicious and emotionally all over the place. (Behold, it is I, Exhibit A.)

Anyway, just watch first:






Now that we know it's a girl (hi, Lulukins!), I'd have to say...I'm still terrified, hehe. Now the fear is tinged with a healthy dose of excitement though. It's dangerous and silly to put stock on what "girls are like" vis-à-vis what "boys are like" anyway (Gender Equality 101). All I know is that she will be all ours, and that's what gloriously counts. :)

I do have to say though, God have mercy on the man or woman (Gender Equality 101.1) who will dare break the heart of my Munchkin, because this Mama Munchkin might be small, but she be the Head of the Lollipop Guild. Ya hear?

And so now I'm on my 6th month, the first month of my final trimester. I'm hugehugeHUGE like it's nobody's business. Yesterday, Chaddy and I went window shopping for baby stuff to compare prices and I can't believe how excited I got, considering I absolutely hate shopping. Good grief, this child will have nothing but (absurdly) pink items to last her through her early childhood, methinks. (As a side note, I really hope we get a boy next time, if only so that Chaddy, the real shopper of the two of us, can get to feel the satisfaction of buying miniature boy stuff. Oooh, you should've seen those baby barongs and pants!)

I'll upload the updated picture tomorrow maybe. I switched into my jammies as soon as I got home and now I'm too lazy to wear the white-shirt-and-jeans combo that has become my preggy picture uniform. :p

Since I started with an adorable video that freaked me out a bit, let me end with an adorable video that calmed me down. One of my former students (he was in my moderating class and I taught him for two years, so he really is one of "my kids" -- haha!) posted this on my Facebook wall as well. He and I share a rabid Bob Marley adoration, so this was particularly enjoyable for me.

Enjoy this, Lulu (and everybody else)! Konti na lang!!! :)

This is What I'm Talking About! (But She Does It Better...)

Okay, so I'm totally crushing on Ana Tijoux right now. Her new single, 1977, was the free song for the week on iTunes last week and so, consummate freeloader than I am, I promptly downloaded her song without really know who she was.

Oh my goodness, I love her song! As I said earlier, anyone who knows me knows that I hate rap and R&B. Wait, actually, let me say that again: I hate "rap" and "R&B" -- not so much because they sound so alike and stupid and unoriginal, but because they totally messed up their respective genres. Modern day rap is the prostitution of poetry! (I've said that so many times, I really ought to put that on a shirt...and a mug.) When rap (or hiphop) and R&B came to be, it was because the people behind them had a story to tell. And it needed to be told in that particular manner because it was passionate and real and true. They talked of sadness, loss, triumph, and redemption.

Nowadays, all "hiphop" and "R&B" do is regurgitate the same themes: sex and violence and more sex. Puh-lease. They can't even be crass uniquely.

But that's just me.

One Day, A Conversation

I've been told several times that my updates are highly entertaining. E kasi naman, my husband provides such excellent fodder.

For example:

Me: Babe, do you ever wonder where Mr. Wok-With-Yan is na?
Chaddy: *silence*
Me: Like how he is, if he's okay, if he's still alive...?
Chaddy: *still nothing*
Me: Well do you, babe???
Chaddy: *he continues to ignore me*
Me: Babe?!?
Chaddy: *yep, still ignoring me*
Me: Pbbbft. Where's your sense of wonder???
Chaddy: *starts to laugh*
Me: It's probably with your sense of humor.

Siiigh.

In his defense, he wasn't being mean. He knew that that question would lead to another question which would lead to another and another and another...

But seriously, don't YOU ever wonder where Mr. Wok-With-Yan is?

Crayons and the Art of Letting Go of SOME Neuroses

So I took this picture about two years ago (has it really been that long?!?) when I got the crayons. I had a project for grad class that needed some measure of childlike creativity. Okay, I didn't necessarily need the crayons, but as I was passing the art supply section, the box just cried out for me.

I mean, really, you have to be some big meanie to not find happiness in a box of new crayons. So yeah, excuse me if I had to take a picture of my new crayons. Mumble and Grover are just two of the many simple gifts my husband has given me through the years. He gave them to me when I particularly needed to be cheered up, so I thought it was only fitting that they share the frame with my beloved box of crayons. (Weirded out yet? Read the title of the entry...)

Somewhere Between Insane and Ridiculous

Okay, so there's busy and then there's insane...and then there's ridiculous. I'm somewhere in between -- of insane and ridiculous, I mean.

Several things though before they slip my mind:

Zoom-Zoom-Zooming Around the Womb-Womb-Womb

Just a thought: If you say, "womb-womb-womb" in a semi-slow, echoey way, it almost sounds like a light saber in action.

ANYWAY. :-)

So I'm on my 5th month with Luci and I was told to expect to feel kicks and stuff. Since I'm hardly ever late (unless I do so on purpose -- for good reason, I might add -- or, ironically, unless my husband makes me late), I was a little disappointed when I didn't feel any kicks on the very day I turned pregnant-for-five-months.

What did happen was the sudden enlargement of my belly. Okay, that actually sounds clinical. The sudden cowabungganess of my belly. That's more appropriate. All of a sudden, I got massive. Oh, and my feet are swollen to such ridiculous proportions. Well, at least now especially, since it's the end of day.

So just when I thought Lulu would be a pretty mellow puffalump, I felt her. I don't think it was a kick-kick as much as it was a kick-nudge. Like maybe she propped her feet up (much like what I'm doing right now actually). She remained active all throughout this afternoon, too.

I am all shades of tickled pink (mais oui). It feels odd, and for some reason, whenever I think of babies kicking from within wombs, I think of Sigourney Weaver in one of the Aliens movies, when her baby just kind of broke through her body. Or the movie poster of Needful Things. (Good God, what is wrong with me?!?) But this afternoon, I was comforted by the knowledge that Lulu was with me all day today and that, quite literally, I wasn't alone today.

I have a human being inside me. I mean, COME ON, does it get any cooler than that? :-))

Just one of those feeling-really-overworked-then-something-magical-happens days. :-D

Untalkative Bunny and His Friendly Friend

Anybody else *adore* this show??? :-))

This is for Chaddy, my husband. I might be pink (and absurd) and annoying and I don't shut up, but I'm grateful that he chooses to share his tea with me all the time. Heehee. ;-)

Gulp

It's the end of the week. The weekend is upon us...which is great. But that also means I'll be spending more time with her. God give me strength. I don't know how much more of her negativity I can take. :-(

Halfway There!

So I'm watching the inauguration, but I'm too preoccupied with my daughter right now. :-) Here's a latest sonogram image of our Little Lulu:

If you can't quite see her, take a few steps back (that's what I did). The image is a little grainy e. Her head is on the right side of the screen, directly facing us. Her little hands are framing her face. She's as big as a puppy right now (Chad and I have been raising puppies for years, so that's the best reference I can give, haha!).

Oh my darling, puffalump! I can't wait to meet you! Meanwhile, Aslan*, Daddy, and I are loving you completely from outer-womb. :-)

*We named our daughter after Lucy from C.S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia. I am the biggest geekfan there is, you see ;-). We said that we wanted our Little Luci to have her very own stuffed lion instead of the usual teddy bear so that she can have Aslan beside her all the time. It'll be a good way to let her know how God is also always beside her, watching her and protecting her. :-) Our good friends Jen and Eric Concepcion promptly and most generously got Luci her very own Aslan. :-)

"You Can't Pray Away the Gay"

At least they're having a conversation about it. I wish, I wish, I wish the people around me would be granted the same opportunity.