Born On the Days of July

My hubby and I were born on July. I, on July 9 and he on the 15th. I was born three years ahead of him so even if we’re both Cancerians, I am a Rat and he is a Rabbit.

We celebrated on different weekends this year. My family came over two weekends ago and we went to Clark on Saturday for some shopping and to make pasyal the kids. Too bad, I didn’t have my digicam yet. The hubby can’t come as he was busy manning our rice store. On Sunday, we had some spaghetti, soup, softdrinks and lots of stories. The spaghetti was cooked by my youngest brother. While we were in Puregold in Clark, he told me he’ll cook some for my birthday as long as I buy all the ingredients. Shoot! (meaning: agreed). It wasn’t everyday that he offers his culinary skills. I bought the curly pasta and some tube macaroni. Not all of my kids like spaghetti. Raia, my middle child, doesn’t like ‘em. Everytime there’s a birthday party in her class, she gives her spaghetti to friends or classmates. This is why I asked the yaya to cook some chicken macaroni soup too. I am culinary-challenged so I had to ask the yaya to cook a simple food like a macaroni soup,

 

My First Blog Birthday

It was my first blog birthday yesterday and I almost forgot all about it. It was a good thing I never forgot any of my children’s first birthdays. In fact, I am the kind of mom who plans months ahead of their first (and second, and third and so on and so forth birthdays).

Define Love

Remember when we were in elementary (grades 5-6) and we were swapping slam notebooks with our girl classmates? In that age of raging pubescent hormones, we were asked about our ambitions, motto, chums, favorite color, tv shows, songs, etc. But of course, one of the most interesting information in those pretty and scented notepads are the questions, “Define Love” and “Who is your crush/love?”

Hard as I tried, I no longer remember what my definition of love was then. I am not one to quote from the bible, books or songhits. I often write a definition of my own. So while everyone say “Love is patient and kind”, I’ll write something like “Love is a wonderful feeling for somebody special.” Many years and subjects of affections later, I have grown and learned to accept that we can not and must not define love. If we do, that wonderful feeling gets boxed in a statement of must’s and must not’s and that is contrary to everything that is love.

In That Room: A Lovestruck Entry

When I first read Noemi’s Lovestruck Writing Contest, memories of my first love struck moment came flooding back. I felt like Harry Potter falling into Dumbledore’s pensieve, landing into a room of a men’s dormitory in a state university.

It was a holiday, 18 years ago. For lack of better and cheaper things to do (besides studying that is), me, my sisses and some brods decided to celebrate Gat Andres Bonifacio’s birthday. We bought some beer and pulutan and stayed inside a dormitory room. Three of its four occupants were my brods and their beds were placed side by side. The fourth bed was located on the other side of the room. So the three beds became our papag, a table-chair-bed rolled into one. We sat there forming a circle and in the middle was our feast. I was seated cross-legged near the foot of the middle bed. I was facing one of the brods who had the wall against his back. To my left is a sis and if I face her, I get a clean view of the door opening if somebody enters. And someone did enter! There was no knocking. Only a clicking of keys and turning of the doorknob. When I heard the sound, I quickly looked up to see who came in and lo and behold, it was the most handsome guy I ever saw!

A Christmas Slashing Story

Today, the seventh day before Christmas, I went on a last minute shopping for clothes and gifts for the children’s Christmas party this week. I was holding my bag tightly, afraid that thieves will attempt to open its top zipper and look what they (he, she or it) did:

Unfortunately for them, luck… or more appropriately, my guardian angel was on my side. My valuables were on the side that was not slashed: celphones, wallet and my purchased clothes. I was about to eat my lunch at McDonalds on the second floor of the mall in this city, when I noticed my sagada-woven pencil case popping out of the side of my bag. Before my mind can figure out what had happened I felt through inside my bag and yes, everything was still there. Haaayy!! McDO value meal didn’t taste much better than today’s lunch. Yummy!

So it was the thief who was malas and I was definitely swerte.. Today, I realized that even if I no longer have a 13th month pay to expect nor a bonus cash gift from the office, I still have my blessings. No matter how simple like unconsciously getting away with those demonic mandurukots slash slashers, I still always have my share of blessings. Mas magaling pa rin ang Diyos ko kesa sa diyos nila. (MY God is still much better than their gods.)

Friends, it’s still Merry Christmas and I wish all of you a meaningful one: