Challenge Accepted

To contextualize my anger, read this first.

Oh, where to begin?

So here's the sitch: The Senate is planning to amend an existing anti-discrimination bill to include the LGBT in its roster of individuals to protect. The Catholic church, nay, the CBCP (for it would be disingenuous to lump all the truly faithful with the CBCP) would like to exclude the LGBT for it might open the possibility to the legalization of same sex marriages. Also, by enacting this bill, they claim that the church can be penalized and fined for refusing to marry same sex couples.

To quote Jo Imbong, one of the lawyers of CBCP, "...The third sex, they choose this. How can you give protection to a choice like that?"

Oh, where to begin?

1. Just because the State wants to protect the LGBT from discrimination does not necassarily mean they would legalize same sex marriage. (By the way, this is me not launching into that topic - with much deliberateness and difficulty.)
2. The debate continues as to what "causes" homosexuality. The very hypothesis makes me cringe though as I don't believe that it is actually "caused". I know there are arguments out there about nature and nurture and all that jazz, but for me, it's as simple as this: I know that homosexuality is not a choice because I know that my heterosexuality is not a choice. How the LGBT live their lives, THAT is the choice - that they have every bloody right to make. Homosexuals do not live their lives expressly to annoy people; they live it for themselves.
3. Let's just say, for argument's sake, that it is a choice - should they then be excluded from protection just because they chose to be gay?!? I mean, SERIOUSLY??? I don't discriminate against people who choose Justin Bieber over The Decemberists, because as kadiri as that choice may be to me, by God, I shall defend their rights to have the Bieber Fever!!! 

Years ago, people who were persecuted sought sanctuary from the church. It is horrifying how today, the church is not only denying them sanctuary by turning them away, they are also stripping them of protection, even saying that they should not be protected at all! It's one thing to shun people because, well, you don't like them. It's another to say that the State should not protect them as well.

"Catholic" means universal. Some universal church you want to build there, CBCP. Last I checked, Jesus asked me to love my neighbors, not condemn them. I refuse to believe that my capacity to love and protect the LGBT is greater than God's own love and protect. That's all he ever asked of us, just to love!

I have been educated by some of the best Catholic minds in my country, and they did not educate me - they did not raise me - to feel hatred for the Other. And now you want to institutionalize this, this, this HATRED? Do not hide your bigotry behind your institution.

On some level, I know that this is moot. I'd like to believe that the State is pretty solid on maintaining its separation from the Church (you might like to review that), so this law shall most probably be amended. It has to be amended.

You know what you are, CBCP? You are a bully.

And you know we do to bullies? We kick them in the nuts. We stand up against them and fight back. Challenge accepted, CBCP. Challenge accepted.

If you don't want to stand for LGBT, then fine. Go do whatever the hell it is that you do. But let me protect them. Let. Me. Protect. Them. Let it be legal to do so.

Kailangan Matuto Ako Magalit Sa Tagalog

This being a non-working holiday, the hubster thought it would be a good idea for all of us to go to the mall to take care of some errands. The wait at one of the stops took a little longer than Lucia could bear to be inside, so we decided to go out of the store and run merrily about in the wide near-empty halls of the mall.

All of a sudden, this ugly, fat, boorish kid (all of two years old) came out of the store from whence we came and stopped in front of my daughter. Lucia looked at him curiously as the horrible child pushed – nay, HADOUKENED – my angel to the floor. It happened so quickly that I didn’t have time to cushion her fall, so she fell backwards and hit the back of her head on the floor. She knows how to fall, thank goodness, so it wasn’t a deadly thud, but it was enough to frighten and hurt her enough to cry something fierce.

Dear reader, please do not judge me, but at that moment, I really thought I could’ve killed that boy.

I screamed bloody hell and his yaya came out. She whisked the tyrant inside and didn’t even apologize to me! I went inside and kneeled towards the boy, who, by then, was being admonished by his nitwit of a mother. I wanted to show them how much Lucia was crying. When nary an apology or even an attempt at eye contact could be envisaged from the scoundrel and his inutil placenta carrier, I went to the nearest restaurant and asked for some ice to cool Lucia’s bump.

We were about to leave it at that, but halfway through our exeunt, I decided to go back to that, that, that woman and her offspring.

I was incensed – LIVID – that I had to be the one to go up to her and demand for an apology! I told her that had it been MY child that pushed her child, I would muster up the decency to come up to her and apologize PROFUSELY and not cower behind the inability to make eye contact! “The least you could’ve done was apologize!” I screamed at her.

Nothing came from her. She still wasn’t looking at me.

“Do you understand me? I said YOU should’ve come to ME and said sorry!” I said. 

“But I did sorry! I did sorry! You not hear!” she screamed back.

Anak ng ****, ano daw?!?

“You did no such thing! I have a mall full of people who could attest to your indecency!” I said-slash-spat at her.

“He is two! I did sorry!” she yelled.

“I don’t care if he’s two! I don’t care about your kid! I’m saying YOU’RE terrible!” I screamed.

“But I did sorry!”

“Good God, you can’t even defend yourself properly! You...”

P A U S E

Okay, for the record, this is what I wanted to say: “You insipid, nitwit of a woman. You unfortunate bearer of a womb. Your eggs must be frozen so that this planet should not be plagued by other mortals condemned by your malignant, sorry excuse for a gene pool.”

And I realized how futile that would be, so I ended up saying this:

P L A Y

“You...STUPID!!!”

ASDFGHJKL!!!

She did sorry.

I not hear.

She stupid.

Katz, why you no galit in Tagalog na lang kasi?!?





P.S. Lucia’s fine, by the way, and I am duly chastising myself for my murderous thoughts. But my God, nobody touches my child in that way, in my presence, and leaves unscathed by my venomous tongue.

"Manong Third Year"

One of our longtime guards passed away yesterday. He was directing traffic and then he had a heart attack. It was almost as if he was switched off—one minute he was there, the next he was gone.

News of his death spread in trickles at first through Twitter. My feed was peppered with bits and pieces of the story. When the story was finally taking shape in my head, I couldn't help but wish that it wasn't "Manong Third Year" (that's the pet name my husband and I gave him since he's usually stationed in our wing—right by my class' classroom, no less). Despite all the evidence, I was vehemently denying that it was he who had passed, until finally, the actual confirmation came.

I shed copious tears—still am—and I can't quite grasp why I'm so sad and how sad I am. Was it because I saw him every, single, blessed day? Was it because he and I would always talk about the weather, the kids, my husband (whom he has known for so long as well since Chaddy used to work here), my daughter (whom he has known since she was in my belly)? Was it because he had seen my daughter make her first furtive steps along the corridors and was equally delighted?

Yes and so much more. He had been part of my life, no matter how fleeting, no matter how minutely. No, I can't even make that argument since he wasn't a minute part of my life. A day in school would pass when I wouldn't see some of my colleagues, but I would always see him. The other older guard and I were speaking this morning and he said something that really hit home. "Ma'am, bago pa nga kayo naging mag-boyfriend ni Sir Chad, kilala na po namin kayo." Indeed, and that's why he was such a big part of our lives.

Today would be the first time since having started with the third year program (close to three years now) that I wouldn't be seeing him. Selfishly, I will mourn for that loss. Oh, how the kids and I will miss you. How Chad and I will miss you. Thank you letting me hug you at least once, Manong Nelson. Haha! :)

Get some rest and till we meet again—as I'm half expecting you to stand guard at the gates of Heaven as well.

Thankful

Thanksgiving isn't a big holiday here in the Philippines, but it is still my favorite holiday. I remember how nippy the weather turns, how pretty the leaves become, how the woolly sweaters make a comeback. Sure, it has origins that are distinctly...violent (if you will), but I like that it has evolved into something much more benevolent. You don't have to belong to a particular religion or race to celebrate it because gratitude is universal.

Plus, turkey is awesome and I make a mean stuffing.

So, in keeping with this weekend's theme, I would like to publicly state what I am thankful for:

I am thankful for wobbly steps that flirt with the possibility of running.

I am thankful for a husband who knows how to make me feel better after a huge dose of douchebaggery from a "friend."*

I am thankful for my kids who are the darlings of my heart -- difficult as they may be to handle at times. :p (You guys are so gulo!)

I am thankful for coffee. And wine.

I am thankful for my co-teachers who are hard working and easy-to-laugh.

I am thankful for my gift of wit (for how shall I survive otherwise?).

I am thankful for a God who gives me the Desire to desire, even if I am often remiss with the Thank Yous.

Happy thanksgiving, everyone! :)

*Yes, there is a back story to that, but no, I shall not write about it here. Needless to say, that "friend" is no longer one.

First of Many

My darling Lucia is one today. :)

I've been anxious and dreading this day because it's simply too bittersweet. I'm having serious separation anxiety issues with Lucia's infancy, hehe. But my happiness and gratitude is overwhelming and far outweighs any silliness that is my inadequate mother-ness.

00.O.00

My beloved, do you have any idea how loved you are? How much joy you bring to every single person around you?

Your smile dispels any threat of sadness, fatigue, and self-doubt. Your raised arms brings such self-worth to me as you deem me worthy of being the bringer of comfort to you.

Your scrunched up face in glee, matched with your squeals of laughter, strengthens and breaks your Daddy's heart as he leaves for work. When you play hide-and-seek and peekaboo with Daddy, what you're really doing is tugging on his heartstrings and making joyous music.

When you sleep at night, may you dream dreams that are bigger than your wee toes. May you be surrounded by hope that is wider than your outstretched arms.

But what is bigger than your toes? For I feast on them constantly and still they are there. What is wider than your outstretched arms? For when you engulf me with your baby smells, you banish even the most ancient of hurts.

You are God's constant reminder that your Daddy and I are loved, blessed, and beautifully (humbly, happily, and proudly) unworthy of you and the promise of who you will be. We do not deserve his grace, but we shall live out the rest of our lives basking in the honor that we were chosen for you. Thank you for everything that you are and will be to us.

Thank you even for those years when Mommy cried when she thought she couldn't have you. Even those years have become more precious as they have become fodder for a gratitude that grows bigger as each day passes.

Daddy and I love you very much, Luciapet. Luciakins. Munchkinitoo. Happy birthday! 

Best Birthday Gift Ever

Every night, Lucia and I watch several Sesame Street videos to help her fall asleep. One of the things that she loves to watch is Sesame's Word on the Street clips with the monster Murray. He basically introduces a new word to the kids and asks kids and adults alike to describe/explain the word on the street. One of our all-time favorites is the episode on celebration:

Well, today being my birthday, I had quite a few little celebrations. Started by going to the chapel with Lucia, Chad, and yaya. Then my A boys gave me a card and a HUGE chocolate cake (they know their mommy all too well). We all ate the cake and reduced it to smithereens during recess and proceeded to be on a sugar high for the rest of third period.

Thanks to Facebook, I also got a barrage of well wishes from friends, students, and colleagues. I have a love-hate relationship with Facebook, but it sure knows how to make a person feel loved on his/her birthday.

Some of my favorites come from Ardy, a former student of mine. He was in the class whose study period (like study hall) I handled in his first year and then I was his English teacher in his second year. He was also in my first moderating class. I love those kids to DEATH, and we have been through a LOT (to say the least), so it really warms my heart whenever I get to hear from them again.

Click on the picture to enlarge.

Another favorite is from my brother Pow. He and I grew up together. As kids, we drove each other nuts; as much as sisters and brothers are wont to do. When we got older, we became inseparable naman. I seriously consider him as one of my best friends in this world. I don't think I will ever get used to not living close to him as he is such a huge part of who I am today. There are aspects of me that only he really understands.

Click on the picture to enlarge.

This other one was from Chaddy. Now, just to contextualize: He doesn't really go on FB all that much. In fact, I was the one who made his profile. So it really is a big deal that he posted this at all -- with a sweet video to boot!

Click on the picture to enlarge.

Here's the video that he sent:





But enough about me, because something even better is coming up! In a few hours, our darling, precious, miracle baby is going to turn one!

This time last year, I was with me was my mom (thank God) and my husband. Sure, the labor was a day and a half long, but this little pumpkin made the wait so worth it.



I'm still torn between being really sad and being really happy (I still don't want her to grow up!), but I am all about being extremely grateful. God has been so good to us, and it all really culminates with her. We thought we were never going to have a baby of our own, and my how the Lord proved us wrong. I shall forever be humbled knowing that God found us worthy to be parents of this little angel.
Happy birthday, my darling. Daddy and I are so happy to have you in our lives. You are the best birthday gift ever. :)

Bubbles

Just a few more days till she turns one. Too fast, too fast.

N.B. Thank you to our birthing classmates Max Canlas and Love Chan (respectively) for the above pictures.

Absurd, Pink, with a Hint of Genteel Passive Aggression

"I believe in pink. I believe that laughing is the best calorie burner. I believe in kissing, kissing a lot. I believe in being strong when everything seems to be going wrong. I believe that happy girls are the prettiest girls. I believe that tomorrow is another day and I believe in miracles." (Audrey Hepburn) 

And since you don't, I don't believe in you. In fact, you exist to prove that everything that is diametrically opposed to what you stand for, what you are, is what I believe in. You are the personification of almost everything I am fundamentally against.

It isn't generosity if it's really manipulation. Or bribing. Or a commentary on (select pet quality that makes me SO unlike you this time). I keep silent because apparently, that's how you want to play it. But my God. My. God. Do not push me over the edge because I will fight back when I need to. Especially if you use her as a bargaining chip. You do so without my consent, but do not think for a second that you are doing so without my knowledge for I am much smarter than you are. I am wise to your underhanded tactics.

 Thou clouted crook-pate fustilarian. Scheming flax-wench. Get thee away. I've had enough.

Beautiful Eyes

Getting Lucia to sleep at night is a long and tiring process, but it's pretty predictable. I give her a bath at around 6 and then we play, read, watch videos, blow raspberries on each other, until I eventually nurse her to sleep. All this takes about two hours. Yup. Two hours. By the time she falls asleep, I'm usually pretty exhausted (mostly from the nursing, but now that she's getting bigger, from the playing, too).

This usually gets her pretty sleepy. If you have a young one, try this with him/her. I think the combination of classical music and Elmo brings her to her calm, happy place. All the classical music she listened to while in utero might have something to do with it.

She has all sorts of tricks now. She can clap her hands, dance, wave, and walk about two to three steps on her own. Of all her neat little tricks, my favorite, hands down, is the "beautiful eyes" trick. 

You all know how it goes. Someone says, "Beautiful eyes!" and then the baby kinda flutters her eyelids. With Lucia, she makes you work for it:

Me: Beautiful eyes!

Lucia: < default face >

Me: Beautiful eyes!

Lucia: <Oh, you mean like, more than usual. Tsss.>

Lucia furrows her brows and gives me an are-you-frikkin'-kidding-me look.

Me: Beautiful eyes!

Lucia rolls her eyes, squints, laughs (at my glee), squints again, then deadpans. I swear to God, she deadpans in the end...and I don't know where she got that.

I swear, this baby is awesome. Hahaha!

My bonny little lassie is something else. Most people would agree that she looks like Chad, but my goodness, I'm afraid her impish personality belies a more definitive resemblance to me.

Watch out, World.

1...2...3...4...5

Feeble attempt to calm myself down.

My friends on Facebook know about this boy because I've talked about him often enough. He is the unfortunate loin-fruit of our oh-so-awful neighbors. He is rude, loud, manipulative, and morally ambiguous.

He is four.

From what I've gathered, he has an older brother and an older sister, both of school age, but not that much older. They don't live with this four year old hooligan, since I don't get to deal with them on a regular basis. Today though, being some sort of holiday, both siblings were here. Turns out, four year old hooligan is but a satellite to the planet-ian whatever-year old cretin of an older brother. Both were raising hell this afternoon, but what really pissed me off was how they were peering into our home only to spit and air-shoot us with their dime-a-dozen, super panget toy guns. Peeking and spitting. Seriously?!?

I am >>>THIS.CLOSE<<< to storming their place and giving their momma a talking-to, but the confines of propriety keep me at bay. Damn. (I wanted to say something more inflammatory, but again, propriety!) God knows I ain't a perfect mother, but seriously. Peeking and spitting. SERIOUSLY?!?

There is precocious and then there's who-raised-you-wildebeests? (My apologies to wildebeests everywhere.

God, I am so angry. SO ANGRY.

Seriously. Peeking and spitting.

How to MOMOL with Saturday

A bag full of candies.

Reliving the previous night's conversation about existentialism, objectivism, and entanglement physics.

Peek-a-boos and kissing of scraped knees.

Being fed tuna spread and crackers.

Thinking of what to wear to tonight's trick or treat festivities in our village.

Not having to check anything. Knowing that I'll be having an actual break.

Beer in the fridge.

Watching a stupid movie.

Have I mentioned the candy?

***

Saturday! Long have I mistreated you. How rapturous to be in your loving arms again. Come, let us make out, frolic, and do all sorts of unspeakable things.