Grad School Chic

Maverick turns 25 in two days, on December 11 exactly. She won't be home with us then, but she will arriving on December 16 to spend the holidays with family. Here are some photos she sent of her and her classmates monkeying around for a breather, I guess, before hell week descends on them, and all requirements need to be turned in, and the semester comes to a close. As always, humor never fails to save the day. She looks well. I am happy.

Priceless Moments

Lately, Mouse has been very curious about God. She has been reading her children's bible over and beyond school requirements. She takes prayers to heart and I always catch her intent in prayer whenever something untoward or unexpected happens. Once, Bidi had sore ankles and was complaining about the pain. I noticed her in one corner, hands clasped, looking heavenward and murmuring something to herself. The next day when Bidi's ankles felt better, she sidled over to me and whispered, "He answered my prayers."

This morning when I woke her up for school, I felt something under her pillow. It was a piece of paper. I asked her what it was. "A letter," she said. "For me?" I asked. "No, Mommy, for God." This is what the note looked like.

Honoring Commitments

Just two weeks ago, Belli, my avid 12-year-old ballerina hit a major bump in her ballet journey. I need to work through a bit of history to make light of what happened. So, thank you for your patience.

She has been taking classical ballet lessons since she was eight (a little late, in fact) and had fallen very much in love with the dance somewhere along the way. Since she started training for pointes she has had to attend 3-hour lessons, 3 times a week, so her life has been a precarious juggling act. Aside from ballet she takes violin lessons 2 times a week. She also is a member of the student council at school, which meets once a week, and of the school band, which practices once a week. She doesn't have down time and neither does she have a social life.

There are nights she gets home at 10 pm or a little after. After which, she eats dinner (you can't dance on a full stomach) while reviewing for a test or doing homework. We have discussed this matter of too-much-on-one's-plate time and time again but she refuses to let go of any one of those responsibilities. It is her choice and she must not do anything half-baked. This, she is aware of.

She has been doing an outstanding job, I must say. In fact, too heroic for someone as young as she is. But then again, I keep reminding myself, it is her choice, it is, therefore, okay, and that all these build character. So I let it be and I try to support/assist/encourage her in everything she tries to do. That it has not been easy is a gross understatement. So much so that just last week she hit her breaking point.

We were having dinner and, of a sudden, she broke into tears. "I'm quitting ballet. I don't have a life. I miss my friends. I never have time to just do nothing and hang out. I'm so tired." I was stunned/disappointed/relieved/empathetic/saddened all at the same time. I hugged her and let her cry and then, told her that, sure, she could do whatever she wanted, but that she had to think about it for two weeks and then come to a final decision. She agreed.

It hadn't even been a week when she came to me and said, "Mom, I'm not quitting ballet anymore. I love it too much and I've worked too hard. My classmates are my family." And so she continues to dance and she continues to manage a tough life. But don't all athletes, and artists, and everyone else who strive for something bigger than themselves?

She doesn't do it alone. The whole family goes through the journey with her. Vacations, occasions, commitments have had to be sacrificed in order for her not to miss class. But the biggest sacrifice comes from that 12-year-old body and mind that keeps proving just how much strength, and courage, and perseverance, and motivation lies inside it.

Here she is at their recent ballet showcase, doing what she loves best. Brava, Belli!

Besieged in a Bus

Bathtub
Potty for two
Sentry in Rayadillo uniform



Why do I do this to myself time and time again?

I chaperoned a busload of 30 kids on a field trip to Casa Manila in Intramuros. I had been to this magnificently preserved old Manila style house three times, also as chaperone to Belli's, Bidi's, and Pippi's classes. So why not to Mouse's? This was how I convinced myself to make the trip yet again.

The destination was fine. I always enjoy visiting this grand turn-of-the-century house with perfectly-polished narra floors, Venetian chandeliers, hand-knotted Belgian carpets, canopied beds, stone walls, brick ovens, and nonexistent plumbing. It is the ride that tortures me and turns me into a monster.

Imagine being in a small, confined space such a bus with 30 relentlessly screaming, squiggling, chattering, shouting, unruly six-year-olds. And if you attempt to quiet them down they say, "Why, who are you?" Maaaan, I was so tempted to answer, "Lucifer. Welcome to hell." But hey, I do have a bit of a conscience.

I lived to tell with everything intact including my sanity and just a bit of a head ache. Just another day at the office of motherhood.

Creamed

The never-say-die boys
Number 17 is the love of my life
Our bench
Xavier bench

Basketball is one of Bidi's great loves. He may not excel in it, nor is he in the bottom rung of kulelats, but it is one of his great passions. His team is comprised of around ten friends and classmates who practice once a week under Coach Pat--assistant coach of the Purefoods pro team. Aside form the camaraderie and the health benefits that this weekly activity provides, It is the main source of fun in Bidi's life right now. There is much giggling, heckling, and ribbing along with the actual hard work that goes into every session.

Last Monday was their very first game against another team--the Xavier boys who are the three-year reigning champions of their division in the grade school league. The boys were so excited but no sooner had they started when it slammed right in their faces that they were simply outmatched in number, age, height, and most importantly, skill. Our boys were mostly ten-year-olds with a sprinkling of nines. Xavier had 12-year-olds, and one as tall as Yao Ming. Okay, I exaggerate; he was probably at least 5'9". And they had 20 players compared to our ten. But enough excuses; they were really good.

Coach Pat didn't warn our boys that they were up against champions so they don't walk into the game psychologically defeated. In fact, he wanted them to be beaten badly so they could learn all the lessons that come with it.

Many times I thought to myself, c'mon, let's just concede. If we leave now, we can end the agony and have an early night. That would have taught them the wrong values but it would they would have cut their losses. Believe it or not the final score was 95-23. But I must say, the boys' spirits did not waver at all, not for a moment. They fought like tigers to the last and died for that ball. I could learn a lot from these ten-year-olds. Shame on me.

After the game I asked Bidi how he felt. he said with a smile, "We were creamed, Mom! But that's okay it was fun and we'll do better next time!"

"Do you want to go somewhere special for dinner?" I asked him.

"KFC, Mom."

And so went, ordered, and sat down to dinner quietly for the first couple of minutes, like an old couple.

Then he said, "You don't like ketchup with your chicken."

"Not really. Don't want to drown the chicken taste."

"You only like it with your burger and hotdog. Plus the hotdog has to have lots of mustard."

"Wow," I said, "You remember!"

"I know these things about you," he said. "And you don't like soda."

"You don't like french fries," I told him; it was my turn.

"Yeah, I don't"

And then, out of the blue, I said, "I love you."

He replied, in a very low voice, and without once looking up from his chicken dinner. "Love you too."

Then I said, "I'm going to love whomever you love, regardless. I'm going to love whomever you choose to marry."

He looked up and said, "Huh?"

"I promise you that," I said.

"If you say so," he said before turning back to his dinner.

He is the only man in my life.