Category Archives: mommy matters

Dark soul

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Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com
Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com

This one will take me longer than I expected because this is completely dark…like my soul right now. This is just rough sketch, no textures and dimension yet, no proper human figure, since I need to study the shadows and light first. Once I figure out the proper chiaroscuro, I can translate this to watercolor–maybe.

This scene reminds of Robert Frost and Edgar Allan Poe combined.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,   
And miles to go before I sleep,   
And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost

I gravitate now towards the imagery painted by Edgar Allan Poe. Dark. Wicked. My heart is full of anger and hatred. Especially that the woman I got cheated on with has a name and face (although she looks like a transvestite, my friends and my daughters said; all boobs but no substance). What angers me is the fact that everything was a lie. I was led on. From the very beginning. All the memories I cherished now have no meaning. Can’t help but feel like I was that Bloomberg reporter who was used by Martin Shkreli a.k.a. Pharma Bro. The difference is that she’s still under this illusion that he really cared for her when he already dropped the bomb like it was just all on her side, “Mr. Shkreli wishes Ms. Smythe the best of luck in her future endeavors.”

Arts and humanities have saved my life/sanity (somehow…I’m still working on that sanity part with my shrink). As my high school Literature teacher said: Science can tell you how your eyes produce tears and its composition. Literature (or humanities in general), on the other hand, tells you why there are tears…

Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you plann’d:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray …

Christina Rosetti (1830-94)

This was my favorite poem when I was in high school. I remember I did a watercolor painting with these words written on the painting. I remember the watercolor painting had a cliff against an orange-pink sky. Similar to this photo below:

Laguna Lake, Angono, Rizal. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I’m channeling all my negative energy/feelings to whatever my hands can do, with the help of the arts I learned throughout my years in school. I may not be good but at least I can do something. My mom said she is envious of me that I have outlets like writing, music, and drawing to express grief. She didn’t have any that’s why the Catholic church was her only solace. She said without the church, she would have gone insane because of my father.

Yep, getting badly treated by men runs in my family. That’s why I am open to my children about this so they won’t commit the same mistake. My mom’s mistake was she defended my father and hid everything. She normalized a man’s bad treatment of his partner and that “you just have to understand where he’s coming from.” That was a fatal mistake.

My girls said, “No Mommy, we will not get married. We won’t date.” Twin I was most hurt because she admired Tito J. She said she even picked up tea drinking because of him. She always tried finishing her vegetables because that was Tito J expected of her. Now she has sworn off men–I feel bad for her having her heart broken like this. She looked up to him. She said he was only scolding them for the bad habits because he wanted them to be better. Twin A said Tito J was right about the iPads and school. The only thing that they didn’t like about him was he squeezed their cheeks too much that it hurt.

It was another thing that bugs me. I let him hurt them…I knew he didn’t like them so he resorted to hurting them. That was so wrong on my part. That’s why I blamed myself for putting him first before them.

I want my girls to be closer to my brother, physically and emotionally, so at least they would have a better role model. I want them to be closer to my brother’s sons. I don’t want them to have unhealthy relationships with men when they become adults. Proper training and open discussion can hopefully guide them when it comes to friendships and romantic relationships. I didn’t have those. Good thing I had good male friends in high school and college–even now with fellow journalists. I was lucky I had good platonic relationships with them. However, when it comes to romantic relationships, I just picked up whatever I grew up with, which was not healthy. And these are things I learned growing up: try to keep it to yourself; give all your unconditional love because love conquers all; be a doormat; make excuses for him and understand where he is coming from; it’s ok if he hurts you because you can win back his love…ALL BULLSHIT. All I learned from my mom.

I don’t have the heart to tell her all of these because…what’s the point? She will just feel bad forever. She already felt bad when she saw how my marriage crumbled. She told me she saw herself in me.

Fuck it. I walked away from it and sashayed into a more evil story. Now mom, you still see yourself in me???

Long have I longed, till I am tired
Of longing and desire;
Farewell my points in vain desired,
My dying fire;
Farewell all things that die and fail and tire.

Christina Rosetti

3:57 am. I need sleep. This anxiety is really killing me. Being angry and sad at the same time is never good for me. I really wish I could do an Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and just erase everything. Be blissfully ignorant of this kind of pain. K asked me, I thought you’ve already accepted that he was not a good person? I said, “I know, but somehow I naively believed that in the beginning it was real, so I kept the memories because those were the only redeeming things left of him. Now I realized I was completely wrong. Now it hurts me even more that even those memories I held of him were wrong. It’s like you loved your parents so much, unconditionally, and then they betrayed you. That all the things you thought all your life were the truth were really lies. That they fed you lies. And now you are trying to live your truth but their lies continue to follow you to haunt you. Now how do you think I can heal?! I was getting successful at it and then he throws this curve ball. You know how hard I worked at it, K. You are the one who was there from the beginning. I tried so hard, K. You know that.”

Time check: 4:14 am.

I guess I won’t sleep tonight, huh?

Good day to be out

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At Track 3oth @BGC. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

The girls had been cooped up for so long that they pestered me about going out today. But first I needed to cook brunch because I was not really sure if the kids can eat at a restaurant even if it’s al fresco.

Lugaw is essential. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I was supposed to make this into arroz caldo but I forgot to defrost the chicken so it’s just plain lugaw with boiled eggs. Still good though.

Then I tended to my garden. I had to relocate some plants because the heat at noon is too intense for them.

The wilted hanging plants under the shade of the mango tree. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Happy mums. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
My roses in that big planter are almost dying . Photo by CallMeCreation.com

So some of my roses are again victims of the neighborhood feral cats because they kept digging the soil to poop. I have sprayed the area with perfumed disinfectant so drive them away but it wasn’t enough. I need lemon and orange peels to assault their strong sense of smell. Then I placed the marigolds beside the dying roses to provide protection and shade. I’m still trying to revive them. My humic fertilizers I ordered online will soon be arriving. Roses, please hang on! Meanwhile, my wire mesh from Shopee arrived and attached them to the wall. I’m waiting for my hanging planters to arrive, also from Shopee, that I will hang on the grid and so the feral cats won’t be able to reach the plants that I will be putting there.

I was multitasking today. While doing my hobby, I was doing chores like washing stuffed toys using the mini washing machine because we would be giving those to the orphanage in Manila. I would be sending several kilos of powdered milk and the stuffed toys via Grab tomorrow. The toys now are almost as good as new.

As I thought, the girls were not allowed to enter Bonifacio High Street (they required vaccination cards before entering; of course the girls still don’t have it) so I just ordered Starbucks donuts and a giant cookie with frappucinos to go.

Sinful. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Then we plopped on the grass at Track 30th because that’s the only place where kids are allowed. Twin I was put out that she couldn’t ride a bike around BGC because we didn’t bring any bike. Besides, I couldn’t bike with her because of abdominal cramps (red days). I told her we’ll bring our bikes next week. You see, the only safe places now for them are UP Diliman and BGC and they’re getting tired of UP campus so that leaves BGC as the only option. On top of that, you can’t really stay inside UP campus if you’re not exercising; they’re discouraging people to linger as part of their anti-covid protocols.

Sunset on the grass. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Watching kids riding their scooters. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

We walked around some more for a bit of exercise because we had been sedentary for a loooooooooooong time.

Families with kids enjoying the afternoon in a grassy vacant lot near Dean and Deluca. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Another day is dying in the city. I don’t know how long we will still be trapped in this concrete jungle. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Perhaps when I’m fed up working at home, I’ll just go to BGC and station myself in one coffee shop around the area to work. I have three stories to write and I need to get out of my box to be motivated to write those. I remember that I used to work a lot in BGC–at Starbucks inside Fullybooked in Bonifacio High Street, Starbucks beside Pancake House and at Bo’s Coffee, also at Bonifacio High Street–when I felt a little bit claustrophobic in Ayala in Makati. That was before the pandemic. Since I’ve been stuck here in this room for two years, I think it’s about time I change my venue.

On the way back home, we stopped by Jjangkke to buy the spicy chicken that I’ve been hankering after since last night. Finally, one parking slot was open and I was able to get my chicken!

Yummy! Photo by CallMeCreation.com

What to do tomorrow?

Lunar New Year

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At SM Marikina. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I’m running out of time trying to finish a long piece before the whole of Asia goes on holiday for the Lunar New Year. People in Hong Kong and Malaysia will be slowing down tomorrow and everyone will be off the entire week next week.

I haven’t been really productive as I should have been because I’m always sleepy during the day. I woke up at 5 am today after sleeping at around past 3 am to cook breakfast. Ate C was sick after getting her booster shot so I had to take over.

Slept at 6 am again then got woken up at 7 because the cats kept opening my door (since it’s broken, it had no resistance). I desperately wanted a quick shuteye so I threw out the cats, stuck something to my door so they can’t push it, and slept. But work beckoned at 9 am. 😕

Enough is enough. I went to SM Marikina this evening to buy a barrel lock, some door handles, wood glue and other stuff.

It’s ugly AF but it does the job. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

That should keep out the cats. I’ll solve the ugliness later.

During the small hours that I’m awake, I try to make myself fall asleep by thinking of projects I must do. One of those times I thought about removing my piano setup near the stairs and replace it with some drawers to corral my kids’ stuff that overflowed from their small study area.

Now it’s neater. That painting above was done by my sister. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Bike helmets, shopping bags, and cat supplies are also stuffed in there.

And of course, my cats have started to claim the area as their own.

Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Now I need to go to Mr DIY again for fake indoor plants/flowers. Because cats.

Halved

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close up shot of white smoke
Photo by Marek Piwnicki on Pexels.com

I’m in this very weird state since the middle of January where I feel like my soul is torn in half and one half lives in a different time zone. I still can’t get my body clock fixed so I only fall asleep when there’s already daylight peeking through my curtains. I work in weird time shifts. I know it’s impolite but I only get to reply to emails at night. I start editing in the afternoon; I catch on sleep at daytime. And I don’t even have caffeinated drinks at all.

This is utterly weird.

I don’t know if I’m keeping Mumbai or London time. Sometimes it’s worse, it’s like US Eastern time. This always makes me feel tired and unproductive.

Where is my other half wandering? I need to pull it back and keep myself whole.

And I’m also in this confusing stage right now where I suddenly want to postpone building my flat to stay here in Quezon City longer. I want to stay away from family. I don’t know why I’m in this funk. It’s like I’m missing something.

But things are changing. My girl, Twin I, is already a lady. She had her first menstrual period last week. Her way of thinking is also has matured and it’s like I’m already talking to an adult mini-me. I have to move so that my girls can have more independence without sacrificing their safety.

I don’t know, I’m really confused. I really have to get my other half back from wandering around so I can make logical decisions and not half-assed ones based on feelings. Screw feelings.

This entire weekend was stressful due to politics. I should refrain from opening my Facebook and Twitter accounts to avoid these stressors.

Because this coward, according to my industry grapevine, demanded advance questions before agreeing to a panel interview. All other presidential aspirants (except for Ka Leody de Guzman, who was not invited) were ok with the interview without knowing what questions would be asked. This ball-less coward wanted a codigo (cheat sheet) because he is stupid. He doesn’t even have a platform. And he would look doubly stupid on national TV for stammering his way out of an interview asking him about his platforms, issues thrown by detractors, and questions of how is he going to solve pressing issues once he becomes president.

Of course, this journo wouldn’t agree to such arrangement. Even I would have thrown a fit at such demand.

As expected social media exploded with this issue; Marcos trolls went on overdrive and they went tearing down Leni. It was so stressful.

As every one knows, Marcos has an army of social media trolls working to prop him up and erase history since 2014.

Twitter Removes Hundreds of Accounts Linked to Philippines’ Marcos Jr.

The Diplomat

I keep up with news through Twitter, FB for community news. Dang, I have to avoid them. I should just keep to my Nikkei subscription, and probably Financial Times and The Economist.

Inequities

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Photo of an 80-year-old man named Narding Floro who was arrested after he allegedly stole mangoes from his neighbor. (PIO Asingan via The STAR)

Here they arrest a grandpa for allegedly stealing mangoes that he thought was still within their property.

The elderly man identified as Narding “Lolo Narding” Floro told the authorities that he only picked the mangoes because he thought it was part of their property, according to the report of the public information office of Asingan town in Pangasinan.

InterAksyon/Philippine Star

And yet they have to arrest any of the Marcoses who were convicted of various crimes to humanity. I want to give up on this country and leave but I couldn’t. There are those like this grandpa that needed to be heard.

I just received a Twitter direct message from a professor seeking my help (and other journalists in Southeast Asia) seeking publicity because Thailand (or government-linked entities in Thailand) had doxxed and hacked into all his family’s devices because his university did not like where his research was going. Even now that he is no longer in Thailand, his devices and all his electronic footprints were still being monitored and hacked. He claims expats and Bangkok-based journalists will not speak out (“they are obviously protecting lifestyle” he says) on his behalf.

This just highlights people’s need for their voices to be heard through journalists. This guy even went out to seek journalists outside Thailand, a country that isn’t really known to have a free press, being under military rule for so many years.

Even though I cover a different beat, my reputation as a journalist gives me credence to whatever issue I can raise or whatever I write–when I am fighting for the truth and against the injustices experienced by my countrymen. I can easily shift to covering such things when I’m no longer tied. Or whatever.

I don’t know what I’m trying to drive at…

What I’m trying to say is, I want to stay here in this fucked up country. Because of the reason above.

So I think I would have to be ready to give up the promotion if they force me to transfer to Singapore.

I also cannot really raise two children alone without my support system. Simple children’s illnesses will become domestic and professional disasters because I will be by my lonesome. And my company insurance doesn’t cover family. Foreigners in Singapore have to fork out huge sums if not insured because they’re not covered by the national insurance system of Singapore. A single visit to the clinic can set you back SGD 100 (my colleague said) and my kids are asthmatic, so it may have to cost more than that.

I’m on tenterhooks right now. I’m still waiting for that Call. It’s keeping me from moving forward with my personal plans.

Human appliance

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white ceramic figurine of angel illustration
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

My colleague’s little girl died today. Her organs were failing and then she just gave up. Our fundraising is still ongoing as he still couldn’t pay the entire hospital bill. I said I will give him the funds by end of the week after our fundraising is over. As he was speaking to me he broke down, he let out a raw cry of pure anguish that you cannot just describe properly. He says he is overwhelmed with grief and at the same time gratitude to people he even doesn’t know who are helping him.

I told him, you know, we are parents, too.

He is also crying because he has soooooooo many regrets.

I was chatting with the girl’s mom this morning (we had been chatting throughout the years) and she told me:

I told my friends before that I am just a woman appliance. For years, I ignored my needs, and I felt like if I am low maintenance (tough and not needy), I am easier to love. Before, I thought I was a superwoman. I did most (if not all) of the house chores, childrearing, while working full time (work from home). But then it dawned on me, I also have needs. That’s why I hired 2-3 nannies with shifts. My stress disappeared, my shouting. For the past 3 years I was happy because I have efficient helpers with me for child-rearing. My children made me realize that I’m more than an appliance. I am thankful that I felt that with my little girl even if she is almost (a) non-verbal (autistic child).

The background here is that my colleague cheated on the little girl’s mom (wife) by having an affair and a child with a very young journo (what’s with young female journos??? because they’re gullible?). The only reason why they haven’t separated physically yet is because the little girl needed to see her dad regularly since instability is difficult for a child under the spectrum. But the (ex)-spouses aren’t on good terms. As I said before, we in our circle/trade organization know everybody’s business; we’re nosy like that. That’s why we’re journos; news spread fast. That’s why everyone knows about J, that other journo girl, and me even though I haven’t spoken about it.

Anyway, I know where the mom is coming from, feeling like a woman appliance. I know exactly how she felt and what she went through. I thought doing all those things for J and being tough and not needy would make him love me more. I ignored my needs. But I was wrong. She was wrong. We cannot make them love us if they don’t and if they just see us as human appliances. Someone useful.

I told her I completely understand her as I’ve been through that twice.

I said her little girl wants to go to Palawan with her now (they couldn’t do that before because they always had to be near a hospital for her sporadic seizures). This is her little girl’s way to make it possible for the her (mom), the little girl, and the little brother to go to Palawan. I told her take little girl’s favorite stuffed toy and take pictures/selfies in the places the three of them will go to, the trips that they will have. Make an Instagram account of that so we can see.

She said:

Yes will do that. I’ll just take a rest. Thank u again, CallMeCreation. I really love talking to you, for some weird reason it feels like you’re my sister.

I told her, “I am because we are bound by the same suffering and our love for our children. Take a rest. You still have a long journey ahead of you.”

As I said before, our children are the only ones who have given us unconditional love. No ifs and buts. Even if we smell like the kitchen and we look like shit, they still love us just because. We are their world. As parents, we would give our lives for them and if we lose them, it’s like we also have died with them. And as King Theoden in Lord of the Rings said, no parent deserves to bury their child.

Good night, little angel. Look after your mom and little brother. Oh, your dad, too.