Nevergirl's

Medical equipment will be my undoing. Whenever I see photos of MRI and such, I am reminded in the most unwelcome way possible that bad things happen to good people for no reason whatsoever, that people age, that they get sick, that they could die.

And, of course, no other person’s dying scares me more than that of my father’s. No, he’s not dying but it scares me that at some point, he might be. When that happens, we will technically be orphans and that scares the bejesus out of me. Not having a parent is like losing, well, yourself – at least the part that had a childhood and spent it looking up to parents.

My papa is awesome.
I miss him.
He’s the original gwapo.
He’s the spitting image of my brother Jason.
When I was in grade school, my female teachers were always asking me to tell my Papa they said hi.

My Papa is awesome in ways most fathers aren’t.
He actually reads manuals.
He loves the Beatles and Bruce Lee.
He enjoys documentaries.
He uses nanchucks.
He’s a bike exhibitionist.
He’s a chess champ.
He’s a black belt at judo.
He’s quite brainy, too.
He taught me most of the things I know.
He ‘rocks’ being poor: he made us think poverty is an adventure and that having money is a disadvantage because it doesn’t prepare you for the real life ahead.

When I was 5 and my mom punished me for scribbling through a year’s worth of pad paper during vacation, he told her to stop — she should be overjoyed her 5-year-old is writing poems while other kids her age were only just learning to write their names.

I wish I can tell him I think he rocks.
I can’t.
We rarely talk, and if we do, we talk about food and how intelligent and pretty his apos are – nothing else.

Papa's the guy to your left. This was taken in 1990. I was 8, I had bangs, and my mom was dying.

Do prenatal vitamins really play a part in how smart your child turns out? And if so, to what extent? I used to pay such close attention to Alex’s mental development early on because I’m not really sure how much vitamins – or the lack thereof – affect a fetus’ mental development. When I was pregnant with Alex, I only started taking vitamins when I was 6 months along. It wasn’t just that we were broke (badly so, back in the day). It was also because it took me a while to realize I’m pregnant. I was so thin and my tummy barely grew that it wasn’t until I was 5 months along that we realized the jig was up.

Now, you may wonder, “How could a woman not realize she’s pregnant?” Easily enough, in my case. I’ve always had an irregular menstrual cycle; I menstruate only twice or thrice a year so when I started missing all those periods, I didn’t even raise an eyebrow. Plus, I used to be so tiny the growing bump barely showed. At 5 months pregnant, I didn’t look pregnant at all and we wouldn’t have known I am if the now hub (then boyfriend) didn’t think it odd that my stomach is slightly rounded instead of the usual hollowed.

So, anyway, Alex didn’t get vitamins until I was 6 months along. This worried me a lot. I only stopped worrying after she talked and walked early. Still, I can’t help thinking. Would she have been more intelligent if I had taken supplements early? Would she have been more talented, more gifted, MORE in every way if circumstances had been different?

We’re not too sure, the hub and I. Even doctors cannot point out the specific differences to the IQ that these vitamins make. But we covered all bases with Charlie. We worked hard on getting pregnant with the second daughter and so we knew the precise moment she started growing. This is the second daughter now.

Settling down with a book

Totally engrossed

Disturbing the big sister's reading

Book exchange.. and yes, that's blue polish on Alex's nails

Yesterday, we were sitting in the veranda when one of the guys living downstairs opened the gate. My 15-month-old waved at him with a huge smile, “Loloy, hi!” That made me laugh. I didn’t know the guy’s name but my daughter does!

To the other moms who read this blog, do you believe prenatal vitamins impact a child’s IQ dramatically? Share your thoughts!

So, I’m sitting here, sipping my pleasantly hot cup of Milo and wondering why my sunburns pick the oddest of times to sting. Today, for instance. I was looking up myrtle beach hotels — don’t ask me why; must’av been all those MSN travel articles I was reading — and just like that, my shoulders, forehead, and nose started throbbing. I don’t know if body parts have memories but I suspect mine do. All it took for my sunburns to remember they exist were photos of glorious shorelines and skies.

I wonder when we would get to visit the beach next. We very rarely get to go near the water here. The girls love the water as much as I do. Here they are, raring to go swimming. Charlie is upset because she couldn’t wait. Alex, on the other hand, always has time for a pose or two.

Beaches are one of the reasons I miss home all the time. Back home, the beach (the nearest one at that, because there are several!) is only one 5-minute- tricycle ride away! Here, you can forget commuting if you’re thinking of going. Public transport just won’t do, especially if you have kids in tow!

I wonder how we’ll fare when we move. There, the nearest body of water is at least two hours away. Will we shrink and wither like parched cacti? Or, will we take the absence of shoreline in stride and think the farm life around us make good replacements? We’ll know soon enough, I guess. In the meantime, my sunburns continue to sting and I pine away for the sand, sea, and sky.

I miss my sister.

She’s naive, she’s quick to cry, and she’s always losing money and things because she’s too kind and trusting for her own good.

Last Christmas, she called up in tears, asking us to come fetch her in Ayala because she lost the 5k she had brought with her.

A few days before THIS Christmas, she emailed saying she lost her money. In Thailand. Inside the faculty room. Doesn’t that beat all, huh? The week after that, she emailed again to say she lost her phone.

Do you now see why I worry about her more than any other sibling?

Last October, she told me she wants to teach in Thailand. I almost fainted. I didn’t want to see her go. I thought about not letting her go. She wouldn’t be able to, unless I help her. But I love her. How could I not help her?

“Let her go,” Rose said, when I told her about my misgivings. “It’s time she strikes out on her own.”

Three weeks later, I watched her board a cab for the airport. The family saw her off; I didn’t. Airport goodbyes are too heartbreaking. I couldn’t break at that point. I knew she’d need me more once she gets to Bangkok and she’d have to look for a job. And, she did.

I worry about Allaine. I’m not sure she can take care of herself. I hope she toughens up a bit. I don’t want her to run into trouble when she’s so far away from home and I can’t help her.

Allaine, I tell you this every time we talk and I’ll tell you this again. Don’t send me, Wett, or the kids presents. We’re fine. We only want three things from you:

1. Be good.
2. Be careful.
3. Be happy.