TOPAZ HORIZON

I've been called supermom by a lot of people and I always ask, "Why do you say that? You don't live in my house!" I laugh. The person I'm talking to laughs and I sometimes get these answers:

"You cook!"
"You have no yaya!"
"You work and you're hands on!"
"You don't look like a mom!"

So, moms, if you want to be a supermom, you can't look like a mom. Whatever that means.

So, moms, if you want to be a supermom, you have to have a career AND be the sole caregiver of your kids.

So, moms, if you want to be a supermom, fire your yaya right now. Pati yung katulong at driver!

So, moms, if you want to be a supermom, you have to do all the cooking yourself.

I'm not ungrateful for having my efforts as a mother praised. Thank you. But you don't see my struggles, my laziness, my impatience, my temper, my self-pity. You don't see me when I'm crying because I got caught up in work and lost track of the time and suddenly it's lunch time and I'm running around the kitchen feeling like an absolute failure. You don't see me when I'm yelling at the kids because they just won't stop fighting and hurting each other. You don't see me in my ratty shorts and shirts with breastmilk stains and wondering when I can take a shower.

But who wants to see that? Even I don't want to see myself that way. It's just not... super. It's all sorts of sad and frustrating and exhausting.

This photo is from a previous oh-so adowable post!

And yet today, I will agree that I am a supermom. Today, I woke up after just a few hours of interrupted sleep to make breakfast for my kids. I did two loads of laundry (whites and uniforms first, colored clothes next). I washed the dishes and cooked lunch. I breastfed the baby and put him down for a nap. I set the table, ate lunch with my family, then helped Vito with his homework. Then after a little rest, I slapped on foundation and kilay, threw on an old shirt and comfy mommy jeans so that my family can troop to the mall and have a snack. Oh, and get food for a school picnic and buy a steamer, too, because I absolutely hate ironing.

It's Sunday. God calls it rest day. But no mother rests on a Sunday. Every supermom I know gets up every single day and gets through the day. Whether she has a job or not. Whether she has household help or not. Whether she's married or single. We take care of everything. We're supermoms. Every mom who works hard to make her family happy and healthy—though there will be times she will fail!—is a supermom.

And if you're a mom and you don't think you're super just because you don't look the part, or because you don't cook, or because you have a career, or because you need a village to help raise your kids, think again. Your love for your babies is your superpower.

Now isn't that super?

Hi to all my beautiful readers (and you are all beautiful!)! This year is Bobbi Brown's 25th anniversary so I was inspired to share my Bobbi Brown makeup collection. A little sneak peek because I want to celebrate my love for the brand and for the woman who started it all.

I always loved the simple font against the black.

I learned to do my own makeup when I visited the Bobbi Brown makeup counter at Rustan's Makati almost 10 years ago. Never knew how to put on makeup, never could afford makeup, and the few makeup products I tried back then always gave my face a rash. I guess that's because I could only afford cheap makeup haha. Then I became a magazine editor and a major job requirement was to attend all these glam events. So I did. But the PR people kept mistaking me for some kid trying to gate crash their events! So my beauty editor friends said I needed to put on a bit of makeup and dress up a little. So I did.

My first stop was Rustan's Makati because they had a lot of chic beauty counters. But that also meant they were incredibly intimidating to me, someone who never used makeup. The Bobbi Brown makeup counter had a little sign that said they offered makeup lessons for free. For free! No purchase necessary! So I nervously sat down and asked for help. And help me, they did! I was gently coached on what shades looked good on me, what my basic kit should be, and how to apply makeup.

Changed my life!

Not a lot. Just the basics!

I started collecting Bobbi Brown makeup, I got all her books, I try to support Bobbi Brown every chance I could even if I don't really get anything from them save for lovely samples now and then. I like to help them because they helped me first. I don't think the girls at Bobbi Brown Rustan's Makati in 2007 realized how they helped me find my confidence as a new editor trying to make it in a world I didn't belong to. That one hour in their beauty counter helped me rise in my career because in that glam world, beauty matters.

I'm no longer part of that world but beauty still matters but now it matters not as a tool to climb the career ladder. It now matters to me because I like looking pretty. Full stop. I don't do it for anyone or for anything. It's just for me! I don't even put on makeup a lot. Just foundation, concealer, eyebrow powder, and lipstick. Basics. I'm not very good doing more than that!

Anyway, that's my little story for today! Happy 25th anniversary, Bobbi Brown! Thanks for changing my life!

Now that my boys are a wee bit bigger, I can now spend more than 5 minutes in my bathroom. I can shower now, I can brush my teeth now, I can apply my moisturizer and eye cream and makeup, I can blow dry my hair. I can now feel gorgeous again!!! I mean, joking aside, the last 6 years have taken a toll on my skin and hair and teeth. The pregnancies. The sleeplessness. The missed meals, the wolfed-down meals. The rushed pooping (yep, it's hard to poop when little hands are banging on the bathroom door). The rushed, sometimes missed, brushing of teeth. The skincare regimen... what skincare regimen???

But now my kids are older and that means they leave me alone for a bit now. That means I now spend about 30 to 45 minutes in the bathroom. And it is a glorious 30 to 45 minutes, my friends!

I always assumed that in that span of time, my kids play or watch TV. I found out recently that they and their Papa are up to something else.

First, Vince dresses them up in much better outfits than if I did it. My sons always look like they rolled out of bed when I dress them up!

Then, all cute and handsome, the boys do a photo shoot for their Papa.
 
"Where's Mama? What is taking her so long? Why is it taking such a looooong time?"

I know this because I dress up with the bedroom door ajar and my kids talk really loud and I can hear them chattering away.

And Vince says he doesn't know what's taking me so long but then he also says that Mama must be really pretty by now and the boys all agree that Mama is pretty, even when I haven't showered or even when I'm without makeup or even when I'm dressed in my ratty rags.

And I go all melty inside. Until Iñigo says he thinks I'm prettier with lipstick on.

So I quickly swipe on a lipstick and then hurry out of the bedroom and the boys all go, "Finally!" And they look at me and then they say, "Mama, you're pretty."

And my head knows I've had other days in a distant glamorous past when I've been waaaaay prettier than I look now as a harried mom of three, but my heart feels more beautiful now than I've ever felt before because three little boys and their daddy love me love me love me no matter what.

I love being a mommy!