I never thought I’d be teaching Zoe the difference between a male and a female this early. But then, when she started claiming that she was a boy like her dad, preferring to wear her NBA jersey-romper instead of her cute backless dress, and wanting to play basketball with the boys (referring to her cousin Kuya Diego, her younger playmate in Canlubang, Daniel, her dad, and her titos) instead of playing with her tea set, I decided to go on with my lecture. She understood the difference easily, and now she knows that she’s a girl like her mom, and that her dad is a boy. I gave her a “test” (fill in the blanks) as she was enjoying her bubble bath:
Me: Mama (my mom, her lola) is a ___
Me: Mommy is a ___
Me: Ninong (my brother) is a ___
Me: Daddy is a ___
Me: Tita Nica (my sis) is a ___
Me: Kuya Diego is a ___
Me: Papa (my dad, her lolo) is a ___
Me: Bailey (our pet dog) is a ___
Hehe, oo nga naman. The gender rule doesn’t apply to animals for now : )
In less than 2 months, my daughter Zoe will be walking down the aisle, for the very first time, as a flowergirl to my cousin’s wedding. I’m sooo thrilled. I can’t wait to see her wearing a cute gown with flowers on her hair! Yesterday we went to the modista to have her measured. Zoe wasn’t cooperative at all. She didn’t like the idea of being a flower girl or having flowers on her hair. The modista even asked her if she wanted a gown like Cinderella or Snow White, Zoe said she wanted one like Barney. And when the modista asked her if she wanted a pretty flower girl gown, getting one from the rack, she utters, “no, I just want my shirt” (and touches what she’s wearing). Uh-oh. And when I told her she will be having flowers on her hair, she says, “No, I cover my hair” and puts both hands on her head. I’ve been trying to condition her mind on how exciting it is to be a flower girl. So far all my sweet nothings aren’t working. She says, “No mom, I just stay home.” Double uh-oh. I show her how to march slowly. She does the opposite and says, “no mom, I march very fast.” Do you get the picture?
I have less than 6 weeks to prep her for her role. If I have to move heaven and earth, I will. If I need to pray for a miracle, I will. If I can offer eggs or something for Zoe to march, I will. God help me.
My daughter’s diet is changing. Lately, she’s been having a more adventurous palate and has taken a liking to balut. Yes, the whole thing with the sisiw inside. Zoe likes it so much that she can finish two balut eggs in one sitting. And she proclaims proudly, “I eat the baby chick”! Her tito is amazed because it’s the very first time he got a whiff of a toddler’s breath smelling of balut. I know, too much balut is not a very good thing. We try to keep Zoe’s balut level to a minimum, but there are times when Zoe hears the vendor calling out “B-A-L-UUU-T,” and her ears perk up. Her yaya pretends not to hear it, but Zoe hears it again and confirms she’s not hallucinating. It’s difficult to say no to a toddler who has somehow perfected the art of diplomacy. She says “puhleease, pretty puhleease” with her hands together in prayer. Her yaya finds it hard to say no to her, and so she buys Zoe’s baby chick and buys herself one, too. Zoe finishes her egg and points to her yaya’s balut, “How ’bout that one Ate Lyn.” And there goes her yaya’s balut.
Oh, and did I tell you she’s eaten frogs’ legs, too? Yup, but let’s not get into that : )
A print ad of Kenneth Cole Reaction caught my eye. The line says, “Who are you when nobody’s looking?” What timing. I’ve been so caught up in being a person with so many roles that sometimes I forget myself. So many times I prefer to rather doze off in autopilot as I go through the motion of everyday, mundane things. I know that’s a bad thing, but sometimes I just can’t help it, and it’s a quick and easy way to avoid conflict. I guess most mothers with a household to run can relate to this. Don’t you just wish you could just drop everything at a moment’s notice and hie off to the nearest dessert place for a slice of their to-die-for chocolate cake, and at the same time spend quiet ‘me’ time? But that’s next to impossible, isn’t it? Unless you are not a hands-on mom or housewife, that chocolate cake will just have to wait. And so I go back to the question by Kenneth Cole…because that is one question worth pondering and that is one question we sometimes choose to ignore given the chaos of our times.
I am not what you say a people-oriented person and I easily get drained when in big groups and I am somehow forced to make small talk, which for me can be draining if I do that everyday. The me I love most is the me when nobody’s looking. It’s the me I’ve come to embrace for comfort and the person I’ve run to when hell breaks loose. Sometimes I choose to ignore who I really am for the sake of conforming with the world, but it’s still there and I can never part with it. The person I am when nobody’s looking isn’t a lovable person either. It’s the scowl beneath the friendly smile and the yawn that I stifle when I’m bored and pretending to be interested. It’s also the brat in me that wants my way with things. And it’s the me who curls up like a little kid to the Big Guy up there who is in charge of everything that happens to my life, or to the world for that matter.
These days I find myself looking at my reflection in the mirror more often. I can’t believe I’m in my 30’s already. Sure, I see a few more lines here and there, I religiously apply my Olay moisturizer more so now, and my husband has been noticing those extra bulges in my thighs, but so far it’s still the same old me who loves herself enough to enjoy my company without feeling lonely or left out…the same person who wouldn’t mind hanging out in a coffee shop alone for hours, oblivious to the chatter in the next table…and the same old me who believes there’s always a reason why you are where you are now.