Thursday, June 11, 2020

We love the man that cooks pancakes in our house

I know there's a big box of Maya Pancake Mix in the photos. It's only there because my youngest boy likes reading packaging while he eats. So while that's the only brand we do buy, this isn't going to be a pancake post. It's going to be better. It's going to be about the man who cooks pancakes in our house. And I happen to be married to him.


There are many things I can do, but cooking pancakes isn't one of them. It's easy enough but I decided early on in my mommy life that I don't want to cook pancakes simply because I wasn't good at it. It's a selfish thing, I know, because I could've practised till I got perfect at it. Especially since it's so easy when it comes in a box, right? I get guilty about it sometimes because my kids love pancakes. But I do so much already, you know? Do I have to be good at everything? Does motherhood demand that?

Well, maybe it does so I'm beyond grateful that my husband swooped in and saved me from this expectation. I didn't see myself as a damsel in distress. I was just a tired mama. How many tired mamas are there in the world? And how many of us have a husband who says, "Go back to sleep. I got breakfast." Not many of us, sad to say, but I do. And he doesn't know how nice that is but I do.


It's not just breakfast, too. He's like the instant pancake chef. When the littlest boy asks for pancakes, his Papa drops everything and whips up a batch. Breakfast. Brunch. Lunch. Merienda. Dinner. Not all the time and not all day because my kids may love pancakes but they don't want them every day. So when they do ask for pancakes, their Papa is happy to give them that.

The boys are always happy when their Papa is in the kitchen. As feminist as I am, I must confess that I'm still the one who cooks. Thankfully, it's not because my husband thinks women belong in the kitchen. It's simply because I was raised to be a housewife so I'm just better in the kitchen than my husband. We're trying to teach our kids differently. Mama cooks, Papa washes up. Papa is learning to cook more dishes, too. Japanese is his thing now. He's spending more and more time in the kitchen and getting the boys to help him out. So now we have 2 sons out of 3 who want to cook. Ladies and gentlemen, we are succeeding in this thing called parenting!    


Parenting is not easy. We all know that. Even something as simple as cooking pancakes can break you. My sorry story was the kids complained that my pancakes were too thick and chewy. How I was able to fail so miserably even though I used that same box of pancake mix broke me. I was in the middle of my postpartum blues when this happened years ago. And I snapped. That's it! I will never cook pancakes again!

It was just a tantrum. I got over it soon enough. But instead of telling me to stop being immature, my husband just decided he'd take over pancake duty. He saw beyond the anger and saw my despair. Such a small thing to be upset about, right? Anyone would've told me to snap out of it. Anyone else would've dismissed me. But my husband didn't. And that is what makes him special.

"Look! It's Papa's heart, Mama!"

I don't know if my kids know this, too, how special it is to have a papa who loves their mama so very much. I grew up with a mother who would cry to me because my father ignored her needs all the time. So I learned to harden my heart and keep quiet about mine. My husband has to figure me out. Sometimes he gets me wrong, but just the fact that after 22 years he still keeps trying is more than enough to convince me that this marriage is not like the marriage I grew up watching, that what I have is magical and special and truly the stuff that fairy tales are made of. Except mine is real.

Maybe my husband and my kids don't know how nice that is. But I do. Oh, I do. 
 
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Wednesday, June 10, 2020

Beyoncé is Crazy in Love


Is this possibly the sexiest video I have ever watched. My goodness. I think I got pregnant just watching it.
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Thursday, June 04, 2020

"Mukhang pera" LOL

Nagsumbong ako sa asawa ko at sa mga kapatid ko about a little issue that was niggling at me. They weren't happy with my kwento but thank goodness they are wonderful people who just gave me good advice. So eto siya: I have this relative - and I love her very much - who's been saying strange things lately. The worst was, "Hindi ko nahalata na maganda ka nung bata ka kasi lagi kang nakayuko." 

Then she said that my head was always down because I looked like I was always looking for money. Then when I grew into a woman, she said, "Buti naman na nahanap mo yung perang hinahanap mo," implying I got rich through marriage.

First of all, I am not rich. Guys! I wish! I don't even know where that comes from. My friends said this relative says nasty things dahil sa inggit. Inggit siya saan? Sa yaman ko? Kelan naman ako nag-flaunt ng kayamanan?? 

Dear Loyal Readers, I know you love me because of what I write - not my affluent lifestyle, my fashionable OOTDs, my extensive travels, my Instagrammable home, my gourmet menu or restaurant reviews, my shopping extravaganzas. Wala kasi akong mga ganyan that's why I know you guys are here for me, not for what I have. 

I'm so cheap now that I cut and color my own hair! What do you think of my new bangs?

My husband says all the time I should go shopping. He'd say, "Please buy something new. Please!" Kasi when he looks through my blog and my Instagram, I wear the same old clothes again and again. My kids wear hand-me-downs or bigay ng mga brands. My things are bought second-hand on eBay or dahil may mega sale. Sabi ni Vince minsan naaawa siya sa akin haha

This doesn't bother me really, if I look poor. Kasi hindi naman totoo—I'm not poor. Cheap maybe haha Yes, I commute. I walk everywhere to save money. I use things until they're falling apart. But I can buy groceries without looking at price tags. I pay good money for good food and good service. And books and my kids' education and future. That's it. Everything else I have can look dilapidated. I just don't see the point of spending money on things I don't care about. So all this time I'm thinking na hindi ako nagyayabang ng kayamanan, right???

So who in their right mind would feel envy towards me? So it can't be envy.

It's condescension. That's what it is. 

I have a great life. I know I do. I'm so happy. My marriage is great. My kids are amazing. My dreams have all come true. I'm blessed beyond words! But instead of all these good things seen as rightfully mine, rightfully deserved, some people think I got all of them just because I married a rich man.

And that bothers me very much.

Vince will be the first to say he isn't a rich man. I find it amusing actually when he tells people, "I have a rich wife." Damn right. I work hard on my writing, editing, PR jobs, my blog, and every project that comes my way. Kung mukhang pera ang pagiging excited ko to finally cash my checks then, fine. But I deserve those checks. I earned all my money and I love it. I can't imagine why anyone wouldn't want that power that comes from earning an honest income!

Vince said that he finds it so disrespectful that people assume we're living on some fictional inherited money just because writers and editors like us could not possibly live the way we do (but we live so simply?!). It's disrespectful to him and disrespectful to me. We have our life because we worked damn hard for it. 

This isn't a new issue. I talked about this in an old blog post 9 years ago:

"But people don't see beyond my nice life. They don't see that I spent 1999 to 2009 working my ass off, working 24 hours sometimes, eating very little or skipping meals altogether, skipping doctor check-ups and maintenance meds for my asthma and endometriosis, carefully using and cleaning clothes and shoes so they will last longer, scraping together every peso and enduring the glare of bank tellers while I count out coins I saved up to deposit to my bank account, and delaying marriage and kids because I wanted to have a better life first."

I'm still working my ass off, by the way. Three mouths to feed ain't cheap. But just because I make it look easy doesn't mean I'm not working hard. I've had jobs I hated and you better believe I was miserable and I looked it. Things are different now. Because I love my work, I love working, and I love that my husband supports my career, I guess it does look like this is all a piece of cake. It isn't, but I'm happy anyway. And no one has any right to take this joy away by putting me down every chance she gets.  

I deserve everything I have. Every tiny bit. Every single thing I worked hard for—piso per fucking word. 

So I still love you, dear cousin, but this is good-bye.

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