Mother of 2

Re-posted from apples-pie.

I often pass Makati Ave on my way to work or going home to our house. I already know the time when traffic is heavy or when its not. I also know what lane to stay in or how to find the right one so I can avoid the jeepneys, taxis and cars going into Mandarin. The faces of the street kids selling “sampaguita” were already familiar to me. I can always feel when they are about to approach my car window to beg for some change.

Tonight should have been like any ordinary night. I still saw taxis parked in front of the atrium as if it was really a parking lot. I still tried to avoid the jeepneys. I still saw the same sampaguita kids. One boy – about ten years old maybe – walked to my car window and stuck his face on the glass… begging me for some change. He did not actually have his hand out but his face was mopey enough without his hands doing the begging.

I waved my hands at him and shook my head to signal – no thanks… politely. I was smiling. Like I empathized but did not have any change to give. But he stayed there with his face stuck to the window… and his voice… like he was chanting.

Suddenly, I heard a scratching noise. It did not register immediately – like it was my brain that heard it rather than my ears. When I realized what it was, I started to open my window ready to shout, scream, pull, push, anything. Then I hesitated when the window was midway because I was not sure what would happen if I did open my window. In fear, I shook my hubby’s leg hard… he was sleeping at the passenger seat, dizzy and sick. He woke abruptly and before he could ask I shouted…. Daddy ginagasgas nya yung kotse!!!! (Daddy, he is scratching the car!!!!)

The boy fled when he saw that my husband had stood up. The traffic started to move and we went on our way. I then hoped I was mistaken.

We stopped at the Petron station at the corner of Makati Ave and Jupiter first to fill up for gas and get the P2 discount that was being offered (Full Tank Blaze Fuel only cost us P900 when usually it would be around P1200 – P1500) and second to check out the driver’s side door for any scratches that might have resulted from the earlier encounter.

And there it was. Confirmed. Fresh. The scratch still had the powder that came from scratched paint. Tsk tsk.

I shook my head. I clenched my fist. Then I went back inside the car. What can I do?

Sometimes its really hard to fight for the very people who make your life so much more difficult. Tsk tsk.

Re-posted from apples-pie.

I read something about marriage and how Will Smith feels about it in a post in this Blog.

Apparently, he was interviewed by Reader’s Digest and one of the topics they discussed in the interview was his relationship with Jada, his wife.

RD: You and Jada have been married nine years and, by all accounts, are very happy. What’s the key?

Smith: Communication. And divorce cannot be an option.

RD: Your first marriage ended in divorce.

Smith: That is probably the most painful loss of my life. I quit. I could have fixed it. It really was not that bad.

RD: Some people would say there’s no reason to stay if a marriage isn’t good.

Smith: Once you say that, you’ve lost. With Jada, I stood up in front of God and my family and friends and said, “Till death do us part.” So there are two possible outcomes: we are going to be together till death, or I am dead.

RD: But people do have problems.

Smith: Jada and I have problems; everybody has them. People ask, “What happens if you made a mistake?” Well, you should be a little more careful before you stand up in front of God and your family and friends and say, “Till death do us part.”

I don’t want to say that its rare for people in showbiz-ness to display that kind of commitment as that would be discriminating so let me just point out that separation and divorce nowadays is highly common. So common it is that it makes you think that couples go into a relationship with the notion that it would only be temporary.

I guess it’s refreshing to read Will’s point of views.

I wanted to point out some things he said that I totally agree with.

Divorce cannot be an option. If you enter into a marriage or any other relationship for that matter with the feeling that everything will end sooner or later, then you just killed that relationship. We all say that nothing in this world is temporary. But hey – you don’t have to take it literally! You should not even entertain the thought of separation and just continue to live your life with the one you love.

Some people would say there’s no reason to stay if a marriage isn’t good. Let me tell you now, those who think that marriage is all wine and roses are in for a very very big surprise. The day after the marriage ceremony would be the day when the wine spills and the roses dry up. Everyone has to open their eyes and take marriage for what it is – a lot of responsibility, a lot of work, a lot of heartache… but it doesn’t have to be without a lot of love and happiness. No marriage is all good and happily ever after is just for Cinderella.

I don’t want to be Cinderella (not anymore).

I have been married for almost 2 years and I have been through some of the worst times of my life, my married life, our life. I have also been my happiest during that time… I love my husband, I love my kids, I love my life.

Happy Hearts Day sweetie!

(l)

Re-posted from apples-pie.

I was a single mother for 2 years before I met and married my husband.

A year and a half of that was spent living under my parent’s house so it is no wonder they are very attached to my son (he is also the first grandchild) and vice versa. It made moving out of their house very difficult. To alleviate the pain that was caused, my parents and I agreed that my son would spend every weekend at the grandparents. I was hesitant really but I did not say no. I did not want to hurt my parent’s feelings or myself feel that I was somehow responsible for depriving them of their grandchild. And so it continued that way… even after I was married and gave birth to another child. I could still recall times wherein I would find myself calling my mom – asking if I could have my son for the weekend instead of having him spend time with them. It was the time that I often felt that I did not spend much time with my eldest as I was working 5 days a week and sometimes even more than 8 hours a day.

I cannot remember exactly when it started… everytime I would fetch my kid from my mom’s, it would be a battle of tears… a lot of tugging, crying, wailing, pulling, pushing. The crying would continue in the car, and even as we arrive home. My son would end up sleeping with tears in his eyes. My son did not want to go home with me anymore. He wanted lola. He wanted lolo. He wanted all the things that he could get and he could do at my parents house that he could not do or have at home. He’s already 3 and very smart. And I do my best to catch up and make sure he still grows up disciplined – like I and my other siblings were brought by our parents. But it is a struggle to discipline when the lessons taught are not consistent. I feel that most of the time my son is confused. His mom says “No” and he hears others say “Ok”.

A few days back, I had a serious talk with my mom regarding my son. She understood my challenges and agreed I had to keep my son in line or risk having him bring his insolence until he grows older. But – that was my mom. My father did not quite have the calm reaction that I was half-hoping for.

I did not intend to hurt anyone. I don’t do the things I need to do to deprive them of their precious grandchild. In the end – all it meant was that I was breaking my father’s heart. I just hope when I get my chance, it will not be too late to teach my kid the lessons I want to teach to him.

I was one breathe short of dying today. I wasnt expecting that a phone call would bring such terrible news. I was in a meeting when my cellphone rang. It was Yaya. I had to answer. I heard only one message from the unintelligible voice that came across the phone lines. Come home, we need you here. So I said excuse me sir – I have to rush home.

My cellphone rang again. It was the landlord of the apartment where I lived. There’s trouble here ma’am – your maid brandished a knife at me, at the guards, at my houseboy….. the rest of the sentence was lost on me.

Knife! Knife! Knife!….OMG! I became a devil at the wheel. Not paying attention really, didn’t care if my car was nicked along the way (still dont care), or if i beat any red lights (I was prepared to beg my way out of a ticket). I only had one goal… to make sure that my son was safe. I parked, ran out and saw my nanny outside the apartment. She ran to me obviously shaken and I hugged her. The flood gates opened and the tears flowed. I heard my son’s voice… “ate lian ano to?” I went to my son who was at my a neighbor’s place. I hugged him and held on to him like my life depended on it. I was startled out of my stupor as he said…”mommy san ka nagpunta?” It was only then that I let out the breathe that I didn’t realize i was holding. Everything will be fine….or will it?

No one can ever imagine what I went through during those 30 minutes. No one will ever know or even be close to understanding how it was like to be in my shoes. To be so helpless, to be so far away, to be so utterly useless to a child who so needed his mother the most.

No one will ever know what I feel now after everything has calmed down and I’ve put my son to sleep. The horrors, the pain, the fear, the guilt, the anger, the shock, the emptiness, the loneliness. To feel too much at one time. To feel so terrible.

I cried. I cried like that was the last time I will be able to cry. I cried for all the things that could’ve happened and for all the things it could’ve meant. I cried because I felt I failed. Then after all the tears flowed I turned numb. Staring into space. Blocking out all thoughts. Blocking out all feeling. I moved like a robot. And I realized I really need to be strong…for my son…because at the end of the day, the only one who can hold you up is yourself.