# 60 of white robes and toy scopes

it starts in kindergarten.  meet the people in the community, the teacher says. choose one and dress up like one, she tells the 4-year olds.  no doubt, these young minds bear an early recollection of that one person they want to dress up like....a spark that leaves a mark in their young minds.  he may be that policeman who makes the cars stop when they want to cross the street or that fireman in the big red truck with the big loud sound or that person in a white robe who would leave them screaming in pain come time for the countless monthly visits. 

 the 4-year old stands in front of the class. 

white polo shirt with rolled up sleeves many sizes big makes up for a doctor's white robe. white shoes and toy stethoscope complete the look.

high school graduation meant making decisions. defining the path one would pursue in college was a challenge.  after much thought, one finds herself setting her sights on medical school, a monumental life-changing decision. the requisite pre-med course saw one buried in tons of notes.  pulling all-nighters became the new norm and marathon referred not to 26.2 miles on pavement but to study sessions that lasted till the roosters crowed in the dawn of another day.

in the not too distant carefree high school days, the library was the

 least visited place. countless hours have now been spent here; a nook has been claimed as one's own retreat, a haven for one in midterm
 panic mode....coffee a constant buddy.

with a semester till the official conclusion of the pre-med course, one decides to go for the exam that would grant admission to medical school.  the choices are simplified, really - take the exam....or not. why one would subject one's self to another decade of the same grueling stuff is baffling, perhaps insane.  those who choose to forge ahead on this path know no hesitation for there is that fire that burns deeply into one's psyche.  the dream is constant; the chase for that dream is resolute. driven by passion fueled with compassion, one is toughened by ambition of the selfless kind.  one goes at it not with mediocrity but with excellence. sacrifice is a staple in medical school, rude awakenings aplenty.  there is no turning back. 

it starts in kindergarten. 

 years down the road, that white robe will take on the right fit and that stethoscope will become a toy no more.  the fire that once kindled
 the dream will burn even more deeply.

our original baby is going to medical school and our hearts swell with pride! this bundle of a firstborn, this treasure of a first grandkid will be the clan's first doctor in the making......isn't that most awesome?

# 59 in His time.........

in all of us, there is a hunger, marrow deep, to know our heritage -- to know who we are and where we came from.     -alex haley, roots

she was adorable. everybody's darling. at 3, she aced every singing contest she joined. she was a natural performer. she took to the stage as a runner would to a track or a swimmer to a pool. at 4, she was famous. fifty years ago, when a child from a very distant, sleepy town in bohol is brought to manila to perform on stage with big-name stars, that spells stardom. with a capital S.  at 6, she was gone. brought across the oceans to distant shores. very distant shores.

her story was passed on, a staple at family get-togethers. famous young cousin, whereabouts unknown.   at our young age, that was hard to comprehend.  what was she like? why is she lost? how can she get lost? so many questions. no answers.

he searched for her. nothing more gut-wrenching than a parent waiting for a child's return. days turned into months. months rolled into years. years dragged on to several more years. always holding on to hope when all hope was gone.  clinging on to a memory that had sadly become but a blur through the years. an old man's heart so consumed with the loss of a child.  pining till his last breath. a woeful unspoken cry silenced forever.  never to be heard again.

 a single black and white picture was the only remembrance the family had of the little girl who captured the hearts of many yet unknowingly broke their own.

the clan's family tree is documented in a book that highlighted the grand gathering in 2009. the online version of the book paved the way for a long-overdue reunion that spanned decades and miles.

her father was desperate.  time was not on his side.  he wrote a letter that her family sent to as many people as they could reach with a prayer that somehow it would find its way to her. daunting task at a time when social networking was unheard of. 

it was almost theatrical.  a search on the internet two years ago brought her to the family book. a stab to her heart when she could not find her name under her father's family tree. nor her mother's name.  hurting, she did not bother to turn any more pages. fast forward to the present. her daughter comes across a repost of the real father's letter, surprisingly, in a humor blog. the daughter feels a connection. she goes back to the family book and turns more pages. she had to look. her mother should be there somewhere. indeed, she was! under the family tree of the father's twin.  a friend request on facebook to a newly-discovered sister. no accompanying message, just a request.  an american-sounding surname explains the sister's momentary hesitation to accept. 'are you filipina?', she asks. so it came to be that all pieces of the 50-year old puzzle started to come together.  pieces frayed but never forgotten through the years.

she is home. she has found her roots. 50 years is a long time but family knows no distance nor time. while the internet played a major role in the unfolding drama, it had more to do with keeping the faith. believing that He writes the script. He directs it, too. God's hand at work it was.

in His time, He makes all things beautiful.  in His time, He makes things happen. bringing her home to family where she truly belongs is as beautiful as a thing of real beauty could be.  as wondrous as only His hand at work could be.  isn't that most awesome?

# 58 second chances...

his name translates to fire. merriam-webster defines it as the phenomenon of combustion.  a destructive burning.

growing up in a big clan that gathered at the ancestral home in the summer, he always stood out for his looks, quiet ways and mild manners.  his was a face meant to be noticed. that finely chiseled nose and pleasant, smiling face.  if talent searches and reality shows with premium on good looks were a fad way back, he could have had a shot at it.  could have broken a good number of young hearts.  he could have had a normal, drama-free transition from boyhood to adulthood.  could have finished school and have a decent job.  

if not for that ruthless menace of society that took the better of him and poisoned him to the core of his being,  he could have. might have been peer pressure. might have been escape. might have been the fire in his soul. it did not matter if he was a user or a dealer. it was still the same dead-end he faced. the physical transformation was alarming;  his downward spiral a dismal sight to witness. he wore his hair long. his movie star looks all but gone. face gaunt, dark circles around the eyes. hair uncombed. devil may care attitude that comes with the substance. came as no surprise when the long arm of the law finally caught up with him. found himself behind bars, momentarily at first. a taste of freedom soon after only to be back behind bars once again. twelve years this time for something not entirely his doing. at the national penitentiary in manila, no less. 

his mother's heart was broken. she went on with her life but something was missing. she smiled an empty smile.  a mother yearning for her son. she never stopped taking care of him.  whatever money came her way she would save to send to him.  in her sunset years, she waited for his return.

on may 31 of this year, he regained his freedom.  from manila, he flew right back to bohol to be with his mother.  never has his mother's smile been more real and full of warmth.  her son is back.  her life is complete once again. 

he is home.  he has aged beyond his years. had his hair been white, he could easily pass as his mother's sibling separated by a mere couple of years.  it will be a slow process but he will be able to stand on his feet again. it will be a struggle to steer clear of temptations. the demons will haunt and taunt him. he has promised to stay clean, a promise his mom hangs on to.

everyone deserves a second chance.  he deserves one.  second chances.....isn't that awesome?

# 57 original miracle baby!

for those who trust and believe, a miracle is God's hand at work.

when a much-awaited bundle of joy makes her long-overdue entrance into this world, it is God's hand at work, absolutely and unquestionably so!  the story of our original miracle baby preceded this previously posted miracle story by four years. plot is the same - years of waiting, intervention of science, intercession of prayers. stir everything together and you have an only child borne out of intense yearning and pure faith.  today, our original miracle baby turns twelve.

as with all the younger grand kids, popsie did not live long enough to be with gugud. he would be happy to know that his excellent analytical skills and penchant for hammering away with arguments has been passed on to her. she will make a great lawyer, this kid.  there is no loophole she will not pick on to gain the upper hand. boon to whom she takes up the cudgels for. woe to whom bad fortune has befallen just by standing on the other side of the court.  given a couple more decades, gugud will handily face-off with the toughest of trial lawyers.
  

a great sense of direction is a gift. stress buster in the least. time saving and cost-effective at best. you either have it or you don't.  gugud has that gift.  comes in handy with a directionally-challenged family. no GPS device is needed when she is around.  armed with an inner GPS on default mode, she can weave her way through busy city streets or whip through the countless confusing corners of a mall.

sudoku is a number puzzle. like any other puzzle, you either get it or you don't. this local daily hosts a sudoku challenge for its readers to take part in. gugud was up to the challenge early on.  this sharpened her command of the numbers and the logic needed to ace the puzzles. recently, she represented her school to  an inter-school sudoku competition.  topped it, too.  way to go, champ! 

you either have it for running or you don't.  gugud  must have applied some insect repellent to shoo away the running bug that has bitten everyone else. no early morning wake up call for this kid.  except for  this one and only  run. only because it was a late afternoon run.  but never again.  i hear her say let's talk chess instead.

text promos and raffles follow the same either-or rule. either have all the luck or none at all.  you can fill out a hundred stubs of raffle tickets or send a thousand text answers. your provider would be richer by a thousand like they need another thousand to add to their coffers while you come up with a goose egg - zero, zilch, nada! pays to have lady luck by your side. gugud sends in several entries to this advertised text promo. some fair warning that she has considerably racked up her cellphone bill is given. lady luck promptly rewards with a brand new smartphone.

happy, happy birthday, my dear gugud!! i love you, gud. the miracle of your birth is truly God's hand at work. you continue to amaze us with your inquisitive mind and instinctive resolve. your powerhouse arguments, too.  enjoy being a kid. go slow. do not be in a hurry. the teen years can wait.  carry on with those explorations that bring you close to wonders that so incessantly beguile the mind of the nature-lover and young scientist that you are.  while other sports may fail to interest you, build up those smart calculating board moves that dare the instinct of the budding chess master that you are.  challenge yourself to greater heights, as high and mighty as those dizzying gigantic rollercoaster monsters that you so fearlessly get a kick out of. in everything that you do, remember that, as in a game of chess, 'checkmate' may not always be yours to deliver. it's okay to lose sometimes.  you can always arrange the pieces and start all over again.  just like the game. 

with the teen years an arm's length away, a kid enjoys the homestretch of the kid years.  isn't that awesome?

# 56 of pearls and middle age woes

silver.  pearl.  coral.  ruby.  sapphire.  gold.  this is how dear old mater distinguishes jubilarians. silver is twenty-five. thirty is pearl. coral is thirty-five. and so on. counted in terms of years after graduation from high school. 

silver.  check.  pearl.  check.  coral.  three years away from now. that is where we are.  do the math.  it takes just but a few seconds to know that we have had forty-odd years of life.  to be more exact, we are in the vicinity of middle age.  no one acts like it, much less look like it. we have will and grace. not the comedy show of not too long ago. the will to defy the ravages of time. the grace to face it with stubbornness, if not mirth.

batchmates get together for pocket reunions in between grand alumnae homecomings.  reasons vary.  someone comes home from foreign shores. birthdays.  milestones.  christmas.  all the happy reasons.  inevitably, the sad ones, too. these reunions seesaw in attendance from full-force to smaller intimate gatherings. any which way,  a grand time is enjoyed by all. a well-deserved break from the realities of middle age to relive the carefree high schools days.

the last get-together was of the small, intimate kind. by the time tea was served, everyone was ready for after-dinner talk.  updates on children, domestic affairs, vacations, disclosure of medical woes.  retirement got mentioned a lot, too.  

the flames of this fiery choco mousse is a cue to the evening's steamy revelations. the censored version without the raunchy details was enough to keep everyone riveted to their seats. 

yes, that is hot chocolate and no, we are not showing our age by ordering that instead of the more adventurous options on the menu.  we are, after all, working professionals with eight-to-five jobs out on a weekday.

let the hands do the talking.  any get-together is not complete without the spotlight on someone's love story. could be the unfolding of a brand-new romance or a rehash of last year's fairty tale.  chapter 1 of the story was ho-hum. lacking in tickle-to-the-bone factor. not a surprise as it happened some 25 years ago. 

 chapter 2 provided the oh-my-God-that-couldn't-be-true-shocker-of- the-night gasp.  the punch would have been enough to knock pacquiao down and out. chapter 3 was a love story so sweet, it would make the  ants troop to our table. 

 synchronized elbows on the table could only mean intense fascination with and absorption of the juicy details of middle age romance. the it-is-written-in-the-stars-i-can-wait-forever-fit-for-telenovela kind of romance.  ah, the joys of middle age!

back in high school, the batch was grouped by sections. four for each level. everything and anything was done by sections. from the first year to the senior year. it followed that friendships were developed by sections. rare was the bond that was formed outside of it.  over the years after graduation, sections dissolved. the whole batch is now just collectively known as HS8O.  

it is hard to notice the clock tick away when one is having fun.  a minute longer at the dessert place and the ladies behind the counter would have shooed us away. good times with old friends while cameras click away to capture those special moments.  isn't that awesome? 

# 55 fuel food!!!

fuel:  any material burned to supply heat or power
food : nourishment taken into the body
fuel food : nourishment to supply power to the body

when the road ahead is long (as in a procession, see previous post), well-meaning street entrepeneurs peddle food (with  jacked-up prices, naturally) to fuel the body. lest the kids feign hunger-induced wooziness and bolt from the line, several pit stops are mapped out to partake of the varied options on display.  food carts are visible every hundred meters along the whole stretch of the route.

 sweet corn on a cob a-boiling while you wait is a crowd drawer.  a brush of melting butter makes eating it quite a mess but its natural sweetness is a come-on.  

the kids had to stop several times for their favorite munchie -- peanuts!  the bike-mounted showcase had peanuts of different varieties - salted, coated, spicy or sweet.  they each get a teeny-weenie brown bag of their peanuts of choice.

this heart-shaped hanging oddity is locally known as pusô,  literal translation: heart.  coconut leaves are weaved; rice grains are poured into an opening and cooked in the usual way rice is cooked. not far from the puso, one will most likely find an array of of the local version of the barbecue.  

what better excuse to ease the weary feet than a brief stopover for a snack.  isn't that awesome?

# 54 viva pit senyor!!!

Senyor is Senyor Sto. Niño, patron saint of cebu. 

in a predominantly catholic country such as ours, the patron saint is the most revered figure.  over the weekend, the city of cebu celebrated the feast of the Sto. Niño with the annual observance of the sinulog festival. amidst chants of 'pit senyor' and 'viva senyor', the crowd took to the streets with merrymaking reaching fever pitch. while some may argue that the feast has become a convenient excuse for commercialism, the solemnity of some traditions is not lost on the faithful believers. the procession held on the day before the grand parade is one tradition that continues to uphold the sanctity of the feast. on this day, the image is brought out from the church and carried around major thoroughfares for all to see.

this year's procession route covered 6.8 kilometers. any other time, the kids would have balked at that distance.  they managed to do it without any complaint at all.

perfect weather (clear skies, no blazing sun) prevailed as close to two million people paid homage to the Sto. Niño.  

tradition calls for offering candles for personal intentions.  just outside the Sto. Niño church, large tin cans are lined up for people to lay their candles on.

balloons in fiesta colors (red, white and yellow) are released as the image of the Sto. Niño atop a flower-bedecked float passes by.

one of many Sto. Niño-laden altars along the procession route.  this one had fruit and flower offerings.  other altars had elaborate decorations while some were beautiful in simple trimmings.  the images came in different sizes.

this photo taken by a professional photographer captures the multitude of devotees with hands outstretched in praise and glory (photo by a. suralta).

it is hard for people outside the faith to fully comprehend the profound devotion to the Sto. Niño.  it was already dark when His image passed by where we were. everyone greeted him wholeheartedly heedless of the long wait.

that one day when alienation is unknown; the city is one in its faith.  viva pit senyor!!   isn't that awesome?

# 53 baby turned big sister!!

truly wonderful the mind of a child is, says yoda of all-time favorite star wars.

very true especially when the kid is in no hurry to grow up. our wawa is in no hurry. she basks in over-indulgence always accorded the youngest in the family.  she has always been referred to as the baby. never mind if she has become too big and too heavy to carry. close to nine years, wawa held that title. held on to it until the newborn baby made her grand entrance and claimed the title.  a few hours after the baby's birth, wawa wrote in her diary - 'i am not the youngest anymore.' not grudgingly but tenderly.  in no time, she switched roles from being the baby to big sister with  enthusiasm. our baby-turned-big sister is nine years old today.

the most affectionate of the brood, she would cuddle up and hug and sit on the lap. she relishes playtime with her dolls and toys as much as her electronic gadgets. her enthusiasm is not exclusive to her new big sister role. it also aptly describes her toy collectibles that she has amassed through the years. for a time, it was her pokemon figurines. now it is her littlest pet shop collection.  if she continues collecting at the rate she is doing now, she will have to give up her bed space for her toys. of late, she has assigned herself as the family's newscaster. she would watch the early evening news and  broadcast the latest happening at the dinner table.  

wawa has had a keen interest in the arts very early on. it was no surprise that during her graduation from kindergarten, she was named the most promising artist of  her batch.  i am holding on to her early works; it would be worth a fortune someday.

yangi and gugud would tease wawa no end, annoy her to tears and order her around but they love her enough to give her the princess treatment in the pool.

postcard-pretty picture of wawa as she goes fishing

mamam would have been amused with wawa's antics. mamam would have been proud of wawa's school achievements, too.  unfortunately, they both did not have the chance to know each other as wawa came into this world seven months after mamam's passing.   she is not lacking in mamam and popsie stories, though.

.  

happy birthday, my dear wawa. i love you. you will always be my baby. nurture your passion for the arts. someday, my walls will be filled with your masterpieces and my heart will burst with pride each time i look at them. sustain that ever-questioning mind and discover the world outside.  it may not be all pretty and fair but it's okay.  treasure your toy collections. continue collecting even when you have reached adulthood. by that time, you will have to buy the toys yourself. you might just earn a guinness record for your collection.  

truly wonderful the mind of a child in no hurry to grow up. .. isn't that awesome?

# 52 LOST !!

no tropical island setting and thankfully, no plane crash, either. this is not the hit tv show. it is a jungle, alright.  singapore's subway system is, after all, one big cosmopolitan jungle for a first-time tourist.

the group is lost, no doubt about it.  in a subway.  in a city far away from home.  at ten in the evening. you come from a city without a subway system.  without trains. sure you have buses plying your busy streets but your bus drivers are not disciplined. they stop wherever they want to stop.  you can cross to the other side of the road whenever you want to.  that is unheard of in this city you are visiting.

you get off the train. you need to get on a bus that would take you back to your hotel. the bus is on the other side. you are told to use the subway.  the group goes down. animated still. make several right and left turns, walk several hundred meters. see a flight of stairs and decide to use that. walk. turn around. walk again. go down again. up again. on ground level once more. you take a moment and heave a big sigh of relief. you explore your surroundings and it hits you. you are back to where you started. tempers a-flaring.  nobody is smiling.

BUS INTERCHANGE!! 

an hour into all the circuitous wanderings and just when you are ready to give up from exhaustion, you look up and see the sign. the group rejoices!

it would be a few minutes before midnight when you finally get back to your hotel. seeing the light of at the end of the tunnel.  make that the light at the end of the subway.  isn't that awesome?

#51 mabuhay!!

thank you for flying philippine airlines!

the stewardess welcomes all passengers on board with a smile in her voice. mabuhay!! she says it with so much life befitting a word that literally translates to 'life.'  it is the local counterpart of 'viva' or 'cheers.'  you are seated in coach, ever careful not to extend your elbow too far lest it encroaches on your seatmate's space.  it is time for the safety reminders.  you have memorized the instructions but you look up and listen anyway.   you think it is rude to keep your eyes on the book you are reading while someone is talking. 

you never fly on business class. your budget does not allow you to.  you have seen one of those traveler's kits given to the privileged few in business class.  you wonder what is inside the kit until someone gives you one as a trip souvenir. 

 favorite item in the kit is the eye mask. comes in handy on your next trip.  lights are out but the one seated beside you switches his lights on.  he insists on reading the in-flight magazine from cover to cover over and over and over again.

small things most often tossed aside or discarded are rendered useful in the hands of appreciative coach travelers. when joyfully simple things turn to simple joys.   isn't that awesome?

# 50 birthday post!

cardinal rule when going on a trip -- NEVER leave an external hard disk loaded with pictures behind.  not with kids.  not with crazy kids.

an album of not-so-flattering pictures (deliberately chosen) and an accompanying note posted to facebook awaited my return. it was a surprise like no other.  tete, not one who would write her thoughts,  decided to present me with this gift.  

48 rounded off is 50! :D  

There's this person we call Nanna...no, she's not our grandmother...of course not, she looks and is much too young to be our grandmother! :P 

Nanna is our aunt… but not only that, she’s a runner, blogger and book-reader. She also helps us with our homework. She helps us make essays, articles and check grammar. She also helps us edit videos and take pictures. She encourages and helps us do what we love to do. But most of all, she never fails to make us smile. She finds humor and joy in random things which causes us to burst into laughter at the most random times. She always has a way to make everything happy and cheerful. This is what makes Nanna NANNA.

Nanna – isn’t she awesome? hahahaha

Nanna! Happy 48th Birthday! I know you will probably get mad at me for posting pictures of you…hahaha..it’s okay, no matter how unruly your hair is and how big your face is in the pictures, you will always be beautiful to us…awwwww (put my name back on your gift list okay? hahaha) Yea..I’m seriously not as good as you in writing things…I was gonna make this long but it’s already 11:26 pm and I think I need to sleep...hahaha…Anyways…Happy Birthday again! Love you Nanna! 

yangi prepared her own surprise, too.  our in-house wacky artwork creator can tweak and fine-tune pictures and colors,  her trademark artistry and humor written all over her finished work.  it was an effort of love that she meticulously spent some great amount of time on.   she was quick to post it to facebook, too .

   of course, she wanted to include that decades-old black and white picture of an antiquated-frock-wearing  kid.

are they not the sweetest kids? they are sure to be on my gift list.  on the second list. i have two gift lists for christmas - the GIFTS TO BUY list and the GIFTS MONEY CAN'T BUY list. love and affection is something money cannot buy. i am giving that to them.  i can hear them whine now.

priceless birthday surprises from the kids.... isn't that awesome?

# 49 miracle baby!

all love begins and ends with motherhood - robert browning

but what is one to do when motherhood is elusive?  when the yearning is profound but the realization is beyond the bounds of possibility? modern science intervenes. the introduction of scientific resources has allowed for expectancies once deemed to be impossibilities.  sometimes, it works. sometimes, not.  while in the beginning, it is an option,  in the end, it is more faith than science. when science founders, faith prevails. the only true miracle is believing in God's infinite glory.  and so she came to be.  our miracle baby.  today she turns seven.

neenee may have been born in the US but she takes pride in her roots. often mistaken as chinese or korean, she would proudly proclaim that she is from the philippines.  she has promised to save up for another vacation back home.  it takes a long time for her to warm up in the guise of bashfulness. in her spirited moments, however, she can whip up a dance and song number.  in the middle of a mall, no less. this kid refuses to be called a baby. a couple of birthdays ago, she declared with insistence that she wants to be referred to as a lady.  

 neenee's only visit (so far)  to the philippines was in the summer of 2007 when she was two.  what is a vacation without the requisite face in the hole picture? 

the distance between neenee and her cousins is bridged by technology.  skype allows them to share special moments. even those lazy sunday mornings, too.

mamam did not live to see neenee.  she would have taken care of her as she did tete, yangi and gugud. apprised of the efforts to have a baby, mamam left heartening words before her passing. do not worry, she said, the baby will come. two years after,  neenee made her much-anticipated entrance.  everyone who saw her were astounded at her striking resemblance to mamam.

happy birthday, my dear neenee, i love you. you truly are a miracle baby! the joy you bring into this world is beyond any expression of the written word. beyond any articulation of the spoken word. do not grow up so fast.  in a wink of an eye, we have witnessed a strong-minded-eager-to-be-older youngster stepping into the shoes of that curly-haired spunky little moppet that we remember you by.  

neenee at seven....a kid at heart even when the notion of the teen years fascinates her.  isn't that awesome?

# 48 a baby no more!

baffling how fair complexion, slim build, tousled hair and colorful attires draw hysteria. korean invasion!! you have seen it all. korean dancing and singing groups strutting, prancing, spinning and bouncing onstage.  boggles one's mind how they pull it off. the korean actors are getting into the picture, too. they who have nudged the mexican ascendancy of the telenovela craze.  

she can dance like a korean.  sings along to korean songs, never mind if she does not understand the lyrics (does not hurt if she lowers the volume on those korean songs just a teeny-weenie bit).  can dress  like a korean.  can fix her hair like a korean.  she is, after all, a korean.  in her previous life.  or so she thinks.  fact is she is as filipino as her little button of a nose can attest to.

this koreana is our tete.  for four years, she was the only child, only grandchild and only niece in the family. to say she was spoiled is an understatement.  she was the apple of the eyes of popsie and mamam, first-time grandparents. every move she made, every breath she took, every step she made (yes, that song by the police) was the highlight of their days.  popsie loved to start his mornings by holding an infant tete in his arms. already lacking in dexterity after his first stroke, a few minutes was enough for him.  tete was the only grandkid he would hold in his arms. he passed away before the the little ones came and joined the brood. today our original baby is turning sixteen!!! definitely a baby no more! where did all the years ago, you ask.

popsie's second stroke left him paralyzed and confined to a wheelchair.  he would often ask that tete be positioned on his lap while he was wheeled around.  at times, tete's stroller would be parked right beside popsie's wheelchair.

tete's illustration shows her comic side.  many a time she would attempt to deliver a punchline but would miss  the right timing.  she wonders why she elicits laughter more when she unwittingly says something not meant to be a joke.  

burnt bottom, hardened crust, bitter glaze and firm bun are elements of what tete thinks is an ugly-looking cinnamon roll. her first attempt at baking was a total disaster.  disillusioned for a few minutes, she vowed redemption.

failures challenge tete. like a spark plug that revs up an engine, it spurs her to act on perfection. accounts of her first half-marathon and kitchen feat show her fierce competitive nature.  in her mixing bowl of varied interests, she has effortlessly maintained balance.  stirring in her fascination with dancing.  folding in her passion for running. melting in her infatuation with the culinary arts.  blending in her diligence in her studies.  there is space for more in her bowl.

happy birthday, my dear tete. i love you, gang.  follow your dreams, they will take you to great heights. climb those mountains, the view is better at the top. run the distance, the road ahead will push you to limits unknown. dance to the rhythm but do the slow dance. do not be in a hurry. sing to the music. rewrite the lyrics if you have to.  this is what life out there is all about.

tete at sixteen.... a couple of years before the effervescence of youth is replaced by the calculated resolve of adulthood.  isn't that awesome?

# 47 kidtexting, part 2

yes, kids and cellphones go together like bacon and eggs or sugar and spice.

one would wonder how we managed to survive in the pre-cellphone-strictly-landline-only era.  life was simple then. life is simple for kids now, too.  they have cellphones without monthly bills to worry about. 

school-age kids who join fun runs  (with their omnipresent cellphones in hand) seem to forget that the race is for the first to reach the finish line. they think it is the first to send the most number of text messages while on the race course.  so they text and text.  there are far more worthy reasons to text during a race, though.

major races cover longer distances than others. forty-two kilometers is the full distance of a marathon. anything over the full distance is an ultramarathon.  due to the magnitude of the endeavor, be it a 42 or a hundred, runners bring on board a personal support crew (when allowed).  these are people who follow runners on support vehicles handing out sports drinks, food, sponges and more importantly, encouragement.  they come complete with banners and chants, more like pep squads. they may be doing their jobs on the side but in truth, they are the steersmen.  without them, runners may ran out of willpower.

on duty as a support crew,  tete does a good act and is quick to text.

'i gave a random person gatorade and she said thanks :) i am so proud!'

on race day, when the road ahead is long and the sun refuses to be their friend, runners appreciate a random act of goodness.  tete knows this quite well.  

a feel-good text.....  isn't that awesome?

# 46 kidtexting, part 1

such a different scenario from the past! kids and cellphones, they go together now like mac and cheese or spaghetti and meatballs.

must be a text brigade going on with their classmates. has to be one or why would they be at it non-stop, keys clicking away.  sometimes, they spring a surprise on you with a random text.

wawa's toys are in baskets, plastic containers, bags and boxes.  they are grouped according to type.  she keeps track of her toys.  she knows which bag or basket has which toy.  sometimes, a toy gets lost. can't be helped.  it would be months, even years, before she remembers it and decides she wants it.  adamant about it, too.

she posts a drawing and sends this text announcing her loss. a reward is offered.

LOST   FISH

size          :   somewhat small

color        :   yellow and blue

it is a TOY.

if found, please return to  wawa

contact nos. : 0922**61**9

reward         : P22.50

there is nothing like the excitement over a first job. for most of us, it does not come till after graduation from college. some kids are lucky to have summer jobs. yangi was one of the lucky ones this past summer.  her job was to fax invitations to a seminar.  given a list of selected companies, she buckled down to the task at hand. her dedication was complete and wholehearted.  she thought of a name for her company that offers faxing services. FARTS - faxing agency republic towards symphony.  she even made a sign for herself with her designation. 

 a faxer and proudly so!  her (not so long) text says it all!

faxing is so exciting! you could feel the excitement when you dial the number. you can feel the excitement when you hear the ring. you could feel the excitement when you hear a person answer. you could feel the excitement when you ask for the fax tone.  you could feel the excitement when you click send. faxing is just so exciting!!!!

random text messages from kids.... isn't that awesome?

# 45 being elmo!

you just have to love this fiery red forever-three-year-old furry package.

fascinated by a witty elmo. charmed by an affectionate elmo. entertained by a playful elmo.  he can cast that kind of magic spell.  elmo does.  he has his way of endearing himself to kids of all ages.  for most of their early childhood, elmo is their friend.  he sneaks and squirms and wiggles his way into their hearts.  no wonder big sister wawa insists that elmo should be the baby's first toy. burrowing into her box of old cast-asides, she surfaces holding a still new-looking, very huggable elmo. she rummages some more and comes up with an extensive elmo haul - elmo books, elmo CD's, elmo music player and a hodgepodge of elmo stuff. with her loot in her arms, wawa introduces elmo to the baby.   

just you and me, kid !

your eyes are luminous, elmo!!  luminous, that's a big word, don't you think? 

what big nose you have, elmo !!  this here is my little nose.  

 okay, girl, listen now,  i'm going to tell you stories of big bird, bert and ernie, mr. snuffleupagus, cookie monster, oscar the grouch.......

don't go yawnin' on me, girl !!!

some toys stay with us through the years. we refuse to throw them away.  we keep them for as long as we can. even when they are in tatters, threadbare and frayed. visual representations of precious childhood memories have a way of tugging at our hearts.  we love their distinct old-and-trusted-favorite-toy smell, too.

this one is going to be a keeper.  just by being elmo.  isn't that awesome?

# 44 shuteye !!

forty winks (not thirty or fifty but forty)..... nod off..... snooze.... power nap

however one calls it, a few precious minutes of sleep without the comfort of a bed is enough to perk up  a tired body.  who does not want a good night's sleep? big fluffy pillows, cushy, squashy bed, smooth (drooly) sheets!!  when all that spells comfort is momentarily a remote idea, a boat bench, a pool corner, an airport couch or a bus seat will do.  a church pew is not too bad for some.  of course, the classroom chair is an all-time favorite.  its movie house counterpart is a close second. there are people who manage to doze off while on their feet. what a feat !!   

on a dolphin-sighting adventure, tete grabs a few z's while waiting for the dolphins to make their appearance.

wawa thinks it better to take a nap with a life vest on.  the bobbing of the small boat lulls her to sleep in no time.

it is most harmful to take a dip in the pool between 10am and 4pm. gugud's daddy found a good solution for that - a shaded area of the pool away from the sun's ultraviolet rays.  away from the crowd, too.  water bed, anyone?

anything, anywhere, any which way for a shuteye.  isn't that awesome?