Unlike our last weekend, we wake up rather early this Sunday hoping to still catch some rays. Our little munchkin is again flashing his toothless smile and we just need to celebrate. His fever has subsided, his stuffy nose about to clear up. Oh, thank you, dear Lord.
My thoughts when I saw this?
It should be me sleeping like this as the little munchkin’s cough disturbed both our night sleep, woke us between 2 and 4am.
The morning after that restless night, I asked husband to look after the sick baby so I could have a quick bite. I returned seeing them in this position.
Both must be enjoying the bed. I wonder why we didn’t have this kind of peaceful sleep last night.
WHY DOES A BABY TENDS TO CRY MORE AROUND HIS MOM?
Past pieces of literature I’ve read about babies and tantrums explained that a baby cries to relieve stress and he cries around people whom he feels safest. So my little munchkin’s crying that night was his way to express “I trust you, mama.”
He cries because he is comfortable with me around. But that does not mean he is not comfortable with his papa. He, perhaps, considers me his primary companion aside from the fact, his main source of food.
A baby is indeed very interesting. Even at a very young age, he knows what trust means and whom to give that trust. He is not afraid to share his truest emotion.
And so to end this post, I would like to share to all mothers a quote I so love very much not because it is self-serving but for the reason that I find it sincerely true. I read this from one of the beautiful masterpieces of American author Jodi Picoult.
“The best place to cry is on a mother’s arms.”
* our Yael at five months and 16 days old. His first time to have a fever, cough, and flu. 🙁
I am 38 years old and I have always thought I will be at my prime when I am at this age.
I start to feel back pain and my right hand would ache, perhaps because of too much scrubbing (scrubbing the floor tiles, the bathroom tiles, the lavatory, and even the carpet). Then the discomfort I am feeling for my right hand seems to be a permanent thing. I guess carrying my little munchkin too much triggered the pain. And my right hand would ache more when I cook. The boys are already used to hearing my sudden “aray” whenever my right hand aches. Then there will always be somebody to rush by my side to help.
Never mind then if my right hand is weak. That it cannot anymore carry heavy loads. I always have a husband who offers to chop the hard-to-cut vegetables any way. He carries the heavy casserole and even scrubs it for me. More often than not, I always have my first born to sweep and mop the floor. He comes ready, too, to stir that soup I am cooking. Or my second son is at my side to open that bottle of vitamins or that jar of my favorite nata de coco. Big bunso is always there to fetch me water and even carry my water jug upstairs.
I am aging. Time will come I may be unable to stand and would depend on someone to do things for me. I fear losing control of the things on my grasp. But my heart says otherwise.
As I recall all the years I have spent with my boys — those sleepless nights I would carry them all in my arms and cradle them to sleep; those first stumble and get-up-you-can-do-it exercises; those first day at school walks; and those frequent carry-me-I-am-too-sleepy-to-walk episodes – the more I am encouraged that I should not worry.
Because those efforts boost my confidence for my boys.
In all those efforts, I use my hands to steady my three boys as they toddled. And these are the same hands I am using to nurse my five-month old little munchkin.
And this early, with the help I am getting from the boys, the everyday responsibilities I am doing for them are all worth the effort – worth the love – because they are being given back to me a hundredfold.
Lesson learned today, cliche as it may sound, but truly —
Love and you shall be loved.
– Ralph Waldo Emerson
I enjoy the review session I am having with my Big Bunso just now. The topic is about the shades of meaning of adjectives.
We all know that an adjective describes nouns and pronouns. There are a number of adjectives that have similar meaning, though differ in intensity. Each describing words has its own special meaning.
To easily explain the topic to my fourth grader, we make our own Shades of Meaning of Adjectives Chart. Just like the different shades of color, the chart shows how similar adjectives differ in terms of intensity.
The shifting shades illustrate that similar adjectives also vary in shades; that is in subtlety and intensity. The shades of meaning help a student – and even us grown-ups – to decide on an adjective that best suits the noun or pronoun used in the sentence.
Below are some examples we bring together and put in a chart.
The lightest shade represents the adjective with the most subtle meaning. The describing word in the darkest shade, on the other hand, has the most intense meaning.
Choosing among these adjectives is easy if one knows what fits perfectly in the situation. Big bunso and I try borrow the example from his Language book and we both agree that each adjective may create a totally different message for each.
As the book explains, when someone is scalded, it means that the person is injured because of very hot liquid. In that case, the use of the adjective warm does not fit the situation as hot milk is more harmful to the skin as compared to warm milk.
It’s indeed fun and refreshing to be reminded of — if not to learn– new things everyday. It has been my daily goal since the start of 2016 (and I pray to dear Lord for that determination) to always fill my head with new knowledge; and reading a book, keeping up with the news or watching youtube are some of the ways. Those learnings will be useless though if not practiced. So I better catch up with my son as we practice using each word in a sentence.
How about you, would you like to try some words in our chart?
I had a discovery last Saturday. Aside from mom friends, my boys read pala my blog.
My Big Bunso asked so much about The Nook Cafe. When I questioned him where he learned about the place, he told me he read about it in my blog post. My first visit to the cafe was last October with my best buddy Smash.
My Big Bunso was so curious he kept on asking about the food and the Harry Potter paraphernalia I have seen and touched. He even asked how the butterbeer tasted and if there were chocolate frogs available.
By 6 pm, after the three boys had mentioned they were done with school works, I told them to dress up. We will have our dinner somewhere. On our way to Maginhawa St., the boys kept on asking us where are we heading. I told them in an a matter-of-fact tone that we will be trying The Nook Cafe. And once more, their seemingly endless amount of energy filled the car.
We reached the place at 7:15 pm. As usual, the cafe was jam-packed, and we waited for about 20 minutes to get seats. Once inside, they could not conceal their excitement from my prying eyes. They fitted some of the Hogwarts robes, read some HP books, chanted some spells, and recalled the movie scene of Hermione with her Time Turner. They were just so thrilled about almost everything inside. They talked animatedly. They ate enthusiastically. Their eyes were all enlivened with everything Harry Potter around them.
I, too, was happy.
We tried all the food. As for the drinks, my three boys all wanted to have a taste of their first butterbeer.
While the boys were all too busy chatting, playing, and eating all at the same time, their mama was preoccupied with the little munchkin.
And after a few singing and dancing in between bites, thank God the handsome prince finally decided to sleep.
If only I could drive, I would love to stay a little longer. The boys were enjoying everything — too hard to break their heart in telling we need to leave in 20 minutes. Queen Mother (how I address my mother without her knowing it) has some difficulty driving at night, so we need to exit the place by 9:00 pm.
On our way home, the boys requested that we return at The Nook anytime soon. I reassured them that we will visit Maginhawa Street some time again, but will look for a new restaurant to try. I explained that dining out is more exciting if spent with loved ones AND IN NEW PLACES. Then I ended our conversation with a nice quote I once read —
Try new things, do new things, find new ways of doing things… It’s a beautiful way of learning.
Big Bunso was absent from his classes yesterday. He preferred to attend a kiddie arts festival. I showed him the other day a poster of the event and he excitedly told me “I want to be there, mama.”
And so I let him.
Yes, this mama who, as much as possible, does not want her boys to skip classes, allowed her Big Bunso to absent himself. Why? Because her son wanted to attend that art festival.
Just this morning, Second Son left as early as 7:30am for a church meeting. He is an acolyte, and has been serving our parish for nearly four years. He came home at 2:00pm which was unusual as meetings typically end before noon. His clothes were also covered with dirt. When asked, he told this mother he went to the nearby park after their meeting to play basketball. His mom just smiled then asked the son to accompany her buy fruit tea and hotdog sandwich for merienda. She didn’t flare up- very opposite of her usual reaction if confronted with similar incident.
I don’t know if the kids all prayed that their mom would react differently during those two separate events. Or God must have heard this momma’s plea to help her be more loving and understanding a mother.
Or perhaps, this mother realized that yes, school is important, but it’s not the only place where children can learn. That yes, high grades are very pleasing to any one’s eyes but, those aren’t the true measurement of learning.
The art festival Big Bunso attended will not only broaden his knowledge about the arts but will also deepen his awareness and appreciation that definitely textbooks cannot seem to teach.
I hope that I could stand by my decision that though school is an important setting where my boys would learn, the world can give a better chance for them to apply these learnings. I should have done this years ago– let them see the world’s beauty and chaos. But still, I am thankful that I finally let go of my excessively protective nature.
Second son’s decision to play basketball was perhaps an impulsive one. On his way to the park though, I am positive that his brain sent a vision of an angry mother thus giving him the chance to turn his back and head home. He pushed for it still and took responsibility. He may tell his mama the truth or make up excuses, but still preferred to be honest.
That honesty was such a noble act that made me prefer to keep quiet and trust my young man. Accepting ownership of his act was incredibly worthy of his mother’s understanding.
My two young gentlemen chose to be free — free from routine; Big Bunso of school and Second Son of house. So why should I be angry in the first place?
THEY CHOOSE TO LIVE. ANY MAN’S PURPOSE, AFTER ALL, IS TO LIVE AND NOT JUST EXIST.
I am not among those amazingly cool peeps obsessed with Harry Potter who, by the way, call themselves Potterheads . I am not to consider myself a Potterhead still even if I have completed J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series which accidentally sit prominently in our bookshelf. And after First Born played Harry Potter during a book parade in their school last first trimester, he had given my books too much attention that this mom would always remind him to take care of them. Not because I am a die-hard Harry Potter fan. It’s because the books are all hardbound and I quite invested on them. Still this does not make me a Harry Potter fanatic.
And so, on my birth month (which was months ago), I invited my best buddy Smash for an afternoon of chit chat and whatnot. I told her of this place called The Nook Cafe which serves the best butterbeer in town (or so they claim).
We paid a visit to the place.
The cafe seemed too unexciting, more like the hard post between Platform 9 and 10 at London’s King’s Cross Station. No muggles will ever take notice of it perhaps because of its ordinariness.
But wait till you enter —
The inside was too small that probably a group of ten students cannot fit sitting there. There were about three sets of tables with two chairs each. And beside those chairs was the small counter where transactions happen.
My Immobulus charm worked for us as it indeed caused those ahead of us to be immobile. We were able to transfer to the second level of the cafe after a couple vacated their spot. My charm that night was my then two-month old little munchkin.
Upstairs was a haven for this mama as the place displayed of books from J.K.Rowling to Rainbow Rowell, Veronica Roth, and Stephanie Meyer among others. There were also Harry Potter paraphernalia everywhere — the pentagonal box of frog chocolates, Quidditch broom, Hogwarts robes, and magical wands.
I was determined to try the butterbeer thus ordered the regular size (PhP100). The butterbeer, a popular wizarding beverage in one big tankard, tasted like the candy butterscotch.
And some of the food we ordered –
An idea that is developed and put into action is more important than an idea that exists only as an idea.
Today though is a new year. Perhaps the magic of the new year will work for me.
164 A Maginhawa St., Sikatuna Village, Quezon City
Opening Time: 1pm to 10pm
Perhaps, aside from birthdays, children appreciate Christmas the most. They get to receive gifts, and the food is just overflowing.
Christmas is also the time for reunions and meetups. Visiting friends and relatives not only gives us the time to catch up but gives the boys — much to their delight– the opportunity to receive gifts either in cash or in kind. My boys received mostly cash from these visits.
Usually, I let them spend their Christmas money, but still under my supervision. Last December though, husband and I encouraged them to open a bank account and start saving. Part of the money they deposited were their own savings from their school allowance. To encourage them all the more, husband promised the boys he will double the money they invested in the bank.
I have three almost grown-up boys. Grown-up because they act, talk, and eat like grown-ups. And they love board games.
When big Bunso turned 10 years old last November, we planned to have our dinner at Van Gogh is Bipolar. But because it was already dark (around 8:00 pm), we cannot locate this abode-slash-restaurant thus ended up at the end of the Maginhawa Street. Then saw and read Snacks and Ladder to my right.
As I have said, my three grown-up boys love board games. Perfect!
The boys were still inside the car, and I could not stop their excitement. They were jumping up and down! And when we finally alighted, they rushed inside the diner.
The place was jam-packed. Not with my mom’s and my age but full of teens and twenty-something peeps. And they were all busy playing — board games.