Wife. Mother. Homekeeper by Choice.
Archive for the ‘Being a Parent’ Category.
Train up a child the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it. (Proverbs 22:6)
This is one of the makeshift cages I made for the tomato plants. Tomato plants tend to bend so they need such structures for support.
This is my very first tomato cage. Four barbecue sticks and a plastic rope. Continue reading ‘Parenting My Tomato Plants’ »
While my son was in school and my daughter was in the world of Yogabba Gabba, I bagged 2 movie posters, 3 kiddie magazines, 2 robot cut-outs, a toy catalogue, a paper crown and a piece of a toy from a fastfood kid’s meal, and hurriedly handed them over to the garbage collector.
I’ve been meaning to throw them all away, but when the kids see me with that mangled toy on one hand and a garbage bag in the other, they cry out “Mom!” Then they snatch it away from my hands, and cradle it like they’ve rescued it from a monster.
But as soon as the high of the rescue mission is over, the darn things are forgotten and left everywhere except where they should be. The kids hang on to them only, only! when I am about to throw them away. I tell them to pack away the stuff, but the reminder gets lost among cartoons, homework, and dinner.
So as soon as I was left alone, I attacked the dust-magnets. Housekeeping becomes hard when things that are not worth keeping are left lying around.
I am betting when my daughter is out of Yogabba Gabba, and my son is back from school, they will not even remember the stuff existed. Unless someone tells them. So this is our little secret, ok?
*picture from gettyimages.com
Ok, I admit that when I first saw the notice from the teacher that my first grader son and the rest of his classmates will be required to stay in school till 5, instead of the usual 8-12, this week till next, I felt anxiety creeping into my heart.
It was the time for those school field demonstrations, and my son will be practicing the whole afternoon after class for 2 weeks.
This will be the first time ever my son will be away from the comforts of our home, and on his own, for *gasp* one whole day.
This morning before his dad brought him to school, I told him, for the nth time, that his extra shirt is in his bag - don’t forget to put his polo back inside. The cookies are for recess, the tupperware contains his lunch, and of course his spoon and fork, and more cookies in case he gets hungry during practice. Extra packs of juice, with extra straws. The home number is in the back of his ID, in case he forgets, in case practice will be finished earlier than 5, so I can pick him up right away.
My husband kept reassuring me he would be fine. In fact, our son would have a grand time. I know that - but that doesn’t stop from worrying. He called me as soon as my son joined his classmates, told me they were having so much fun already. That was comforting.
Sigh. I know this is not just an after-school activity, this will also be a learning experience. Oh well, I’ll be better at this tomorrow.
I’m strict about manners. I think that kids have a horrible time with other people if they have bad manners…The one thing you’ve got to be prepared to do as a parent is not to be liked from time to time. - Emma Thompson.
*Photo from Cartoonstock.com
My daughter (who will be turning 3 in a couple of days!) was bawling after having seen a cockroach on the floor. “I am scared!” she said.
I spoke with a big voice, like a superhero. “Don’t worry. I will kill the cockroach, and I will kick it out of this house!”
“But Mom!” my son protested. “The cockroach is just looking for a home for his family.”
And so I got torn between banishing the cockroach or letting it flutter around for a while. The little guy has a point.
***
My daughter’s incessant screaming won over my son’s reasoning, and I did kick it out of the house. Well actually, I swept it away with a broom because I really cannot bear to kill a cockroach on the floor.
“Goodbye, cockroach!,” I said, again with a big voice.
“He’s going (back) to his family?,” my daughter asked.
Not to say they can live here with my son, I hope!
My husband was working on the computer when his cellphone began to ring. The caller was “me.” But how could I be calling him when I was in the kitchen?
My son, no doubt. “Anak! Don’t play with Mommy’s cellphone!,” his dad hollered.
“I’m not playing with the cellphone! I’m just holding it. And it’s out of control!”
Tsk! Bad cellphone! Bad!
***
After confirming with both sets of grandparents that Daddy and I used to live with them, my son deduced that when he’s all grown up, he would live in his “next house.”
“Just like you Mom. When you became a grown up, you got out of Lolo’s house and you live in this house, your next house.”
“It’s like this, “ I had to explain. ”First, I went to school. Grade school, then high school, and then college. When I finished college, I had a job. And then I met Daddy, and we got married. And then, we lived in this house.”
I showed him our wedding photo on the wall. “That’s me and Daddy getting married.”
“So when I’m married, I can live in my next house,” he said.
It felt a little weird hearing my 6-year old son talk about marrying and leaving our nest, but I answered anyway. “Yes anak, you will live in your next house when you’re married to a special woman.”
He was quiet for a while, I could almost hear the little wheels in his head.
This kind of talk felt like it arrived a little too soon, but there could be no turning back. I swallowed hard and took that moment to make him see a bit of what we, Mom and Dad, are hoping for his future.
In short, I felt compelled to describe the “special woman,” our future daughter-in-law, in little boy’s terms.
“The woman you should marry should be nice.”
“Yes,” he agreed with a vigorous nod.
“Has good manners …. studies her lessons…. goes to church…”
I bear good news.
Our 2-year old daughter, who will be 3 in a couple of months, is now toilet-trained. Yipee-ya-yay!
And so a new dilemma begins.
I am now dreading going places, as I have no idea how I’ll make her do her business without her bottom grazing the toilet bowl.
This part of toilet training was a breeze during my son’s time - there were clean urinals for little boys in most women’s restrooms. Not to mention that the boys’ way is much, much easier. No choice but to use a toilet bowl - no problem.
But with my daughter - I’m stumped. How can I make her avoid sitting on a toilet bowl when she’s barely 3 feet tall? Squatting on the floor is disgusting. Wiping the rim upon entering the cubicle even more so. I cannot imagine cleaning someone else’s mess (*shivers).
Unless I bring disposal gloves with an arsenal of tissue and toilet spray. But the idea of doing the whole santizing process is too cumbersome and my daughter will most likely fail to wait for me to finish.
Please, please advise! To parents and guardians of little girls, how do you assist your princesses in using a public restroom?
Thanks in advance 
This story I got from “Binhi,” which is my son’s school book for the subject, Filipino.
(You may click on the pictures to enlarge). The title of the story is Kumain Nang Wasto (Eat Right). It is about a young boy, named Bobot, who gets teased by his playmates because he is very thin. They call him “Bobot Payatot.”
So Bobot runs to his mom, and sobs, “Tinutukso na naman po nila akong payatot.” (They tease me as Payatot.)
The mom says, Continue reading ‘Bullying 101?’ »
I asked for help when I was small
But now I’m bigger I can do it all
I’m feeling proud as you can tell
‘Cause I can do it by myself.
This song was sung by Baby Bop, the (perpetually) 3-year old green dinosaur in Barney.
This is the current song playing in my head after an incident in the school playground awhile ago. I screamed my head off when I found my 2 1/2 -year old daughter on top of the slide.
She climbed on top all by herself.
