by rossanahead | Mar 30, 2011 | Education, Mari-an Santos, woman
By Mari-An Santos
A child so anti-social that she didn’t want anyone’s skin to touch hers in a crowded jeepney. A girl so timid that she couldn’t be coaxed into joining parlor games even after all the other parents had stopped thinking it was adorable. A pre-teen so shy that she would read a book in the middle of a party that her mother had forced her to attend. That was me.
All I had ever wanted to do was write. That is, after my fourth grade teacher “discovered” that I could put words to paper and sent me, along with a select few, to a tete-a-tete with NVM Gonzalez. But as it turned out, it was not such a simple choice.
I had heard that college should be a time to build a network. But this quintessential nerd simply clutched her books and went to class early. I studied hard alright but did not make more than a few friends.
It was after college when I slowly came out of my shell. I learned how to approach complete strangers and talk to them without breaking into a sweat or walking away. I have even managed to make friends from different parts of the world. While I’m still a long way from being the poster girl for confidence, I can hold my own in polite company.
My mother no longer wonders, “What will happen to this shy little girl?” Though maybe sometimes she wonders what has become of her.
Can you keep a secret? She’s still here.
by rossanahead | Mar 28, 2011 | children, Education, parenting, woman
By Bubbles Salvador
The terrible twos can be, well, terrible. This I know because my son, only almost two, is worlds away from that cute little baby who always did as Mommy or Daddy said.
It’s not that he’s out of control – he’s just too much to handle sometimes.
Luis behaves very well in church, and is able to sit through the entire mass. At night, we say our prayers together, which he ends with a sweet “Good night, God!” He even surprises me with an affectionate hug every now and then.
But there are also times when the terrible twos hits like the plague. When he refuses to share a toy or greet an elder (we insist on the age-old tradition of pagmamano), it could result into a riot: Mommy is screaming, Daddy is demanding obedience, Luis starts whining.
“It’s a phase,” my Mama said. Should I believe her? She instilled enough fear in me and my siblings to make sure that none of us even thought of misbehaving like that. What did she know about terrible twos?
“Just keep telling him that what he’s doing is wrong. It’ll take a while but he’ll get it. Luis is smart,” she told me.
Maybe Mama’s right after all. “Smart” may be the key word. At times, even before we send him to the corner for a timeout, Luis would go there himself and say, “Stay…corner. Mommy’s mad.”
It is exactly this smartness that we are counting on so we can finally get past this stage. He can recite the rules anytime: “No hitting. No throwing toys. Good boy lang.” I think we’re getting there.
I guess part of being a parent is hitting these highs and lows; we just try to make the most out of the highs. Just as we need to encourage our kids’ positive behaviour, we also need to give ourselves a pat on the back for trying (and just keep our fingers crossed that things turn out OK!).
Photo by MI PHAM on Unsplash
by rossanahead | Mar 20, 2011 | Education, Lyra Pore, parenting, woman
By Lyra Pore
“Focus! Don’t look at the other swimmers! If you don’t focus, I’ll take your iPod from you for one month!” The excitement at the Zone Swimming Carnival is palpable; one mom can’t resist making the iPod threat to motivate her 12-year-old daughter to do her best.
Australia supports and discovers young talent through sports carnivals. Each primary school holds its own carnival first to select students, from Grades 2 to 6, who will then go on to compete at the Zone level. The races are already quite intense at this stage. Kids, as young as seven but turning eight this year, dive into a 50-meter pool the moment the gun goes off and give it everything they’ve got to earn the right to represent their school in the Zone carnival.
At the Zone, students from several schools within the district race against each other. One of my kids, now in Grade 6, is representing her school in the 50-meter freestyle, breaststroke, backstroke, and relay.
“If I get a place in the Zone, do I get my books?” she asks the previous night. Since she finished reading the Harry Potter series–from Philosopher’s Stone to Deathly Hallows –she’s been pressing her dad and me for a copy of J.K. Rowling’s Quidditch Through The Ages and Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. I figure it’s better to reward her for a great effort than to punish her a botch-up. “Yes. Absolutely.”
The girl with the iPod races against very fast swimmers in the third heat; it’s unbelievable they’re all just turning 12 this year. My daughter comes first in the second heat. The final results have yet to be checked though, as the girls from all the heats have to be ranked according to the time they’ve clocked. The overall results place the iPod girl at 6th and my daughter at 7th. “That’s all right!” the other girl’s mom yells. “I’m still proud of you, honey!” Thank God, it’s been an empty threat after all.
“Do I still get my books?” “Of course. You’ve come first in your heat, remember?” It’s really a great result for the top ten girls with just milliseconds separating each of them.
It gets even better as the carnival goes on. My child wins third place overall in backstroke and fourth in breaststroke. Then she and the iPod girl team up with two other Grade 6 students to snatch a second-place finish in the freestyle relay. They’re all off to the Regional Swimming Carnival at the Sydney Olympic Park where many more schools representing several districts show off their rising stars.
Photo by NeONBRAND on Unsplash
by rossanahead | Mar 18, 2011 | Education, Gina Abuyuan, parenting, woman
By Gina Abuyuan
Previously, I mentioned the amount of parent involvement non-traditional schools may require—self-imposed field trips, for once, have been de rigueur for me since my twins started a blended school program. But even if you don’t feel obliged to organize little jaunts for you and your kids, taking a simple trip to a restaurant (and I’m not talking the usual fastfood joint), or a much bigger production such as an out-of-town weekender, can still be both education and not just fun.
Now that summer’s here, you can have more reasons to make every moment a moment of learning for your kids. It’s not difficult—all it takes is a little effort, time, money (but not so much as you would spend going to, say, Boracay), and the readiness to venture beyond the comfort zones of the malls.
Here are some suggestions:
* North of Manila, try Bulacan. In Plaridel, there is the memorial to Juan Evangelista, Pablo Maniquiz, and other Filipino revolutionaries that resisted the U.S. army that annexed the Philippines a century and a decade ago. This is a favorite of author Red Constantino and wife, Kala, and their kids Rio, 12, and Luna, 10. A history essayist, he’s big on historical sites, especially those that celebrate national pride. He also suggests Malolos, which has the Barasoain Church. Malolos also has Casa Real, which houses the printing press that published revolutionary papers during the days of the Philippine Republic. You can also visit the Bautista home on Kamestisuhan Street, a grand old house built during the Spanish period.
(Within Manila, there is Casa Manila in Intramuros, where I took my own kids, where I spoke myself harsh reading the markers to my seven-year-old twin boys, and encouraging them to imagine how life might have been like in those times.)
* Bulacan also has Biak na Bato National Park in San Miguel and the historic Real de Cacarong in Pandi.
* Southbound, try the Viaje del Sol route (viajedelsol.org, a tour that covers Laguna, Quezon, and Batangas). You can cover Ugu Bigyan’s pottery studio and garden (although if you have rambunctious, hard-to-handle kids, you might want to skip this) or go to Café San Luis at the foot of Mt. Banahaw for trekking, a visit to the waterfalls, and coffee. You can spend the night in either of those places or drive back towards Laguna and check in at Casa San Pablo (casasanpablo.com), run by the genteel Alcantara family.
* Liliw, Laguna is only an hour away. If you’re churchgoers, you can hear mass at its great old church or go shoe-shopping. Everything is priced rock-bottom and made well. I once bought a pair of slippers there that were pretty enough to wear to a beach wedding, and they lasted me a couple of years.
* Closer to Manila is Pinto Museum in Antipolo (formerly Pinto Gallery, a beautiful place and collection of artwork lovingly put together by renowned patron Dr. Joven Cuanang). As with all museums, noise and boisterous play is discouraged, so brief your kids first before entering.
As I said, anything can be a learning experience for kids, particularly a trip to an art gallery. The Pinto Museum presents talking points about art of all kinds—installation, sculpture, modern, mixed media. Allow them to be slightly creeped-out by the antique wooden icons in the small chapel; overwhelmed by those in the big works gallery (built around equally-gigantic stumps of ancient boulders); and question Elmer Borlongan’s take on the human figure.
* You can also try Seven Suites Hotel and Observatory in Hollywood Hills, Sumulong Highway, Antipolo. Its resident astronomer, Ramon Acevedo, is eager to teach and talk to kids about the stars and planets, and there’s nothing that gets him sadder than seeing cloudy skies and kids’ faces fall when they’re told the giant telescope won’t work under zero visibility.
I guess the important thing for parents to remember is that no matter where you go—your favorite mall, your own garden, Disneyland, the beach—show interest so they too, will gain interest. Keep judgments and biases to yourself; allow them to express their own opinions. Let the conversation and questions flow. I guarantee you, the fun and learning experience will be shared by both you AND your kids!
Photo by Kevin Delvecchio on Unsplash
by rossanahead | Mar 15, 2011 | Education, Mari-an Santos, woman
By Mari-An C. Santos
A year ago, when anyone asked me what my sport was, I had to stop and think, then say quite sheepishly: “I know how to swim and bike. I sometimes trek up mountains but nothing regular. Yoga isn’t a sport, is it?”
Nine months ago, three friends and I dared to enter the world of kickboxing. We thought that we were just going to bob up and down to upbeat music while simulating kicks and punches like a montage from a movie. And so we readily agreed.
At the gym, we punched, kicked, and hit the air with our elbows and knees. The result was a lot of huffing and puffing and begging, neigh pleading, for water breaks. But we were determined not to throw in the towel. An hour and a half later, we were actually filling out membership forms. Was it peer pressure? Overdose of happy hormones? Who knows? We were actually signing up for more torture, I mean, lessons.
The four of us made up the “girls class.” We moaned and groaned and complained but we always finished the class anyway. We invited more friends and our little band increased.
When I went to Thailand last year, Ricky, the gym owner, referred me to a friend who he had met when he competed in Muay Thai there. Believe it or not, I underwent Muay Thai training in the land of its birth—twice.
A lot has changed since then. Some classmates have become too busy to attend, one moved to Los Baños where she joined another Muay Thai gym, we have new trainers. I have stuck to it. It’s not just because of the noticeable weight loss or my improved strength and endurance. I’m in the best shape I’ve been since, maybe grade school when we did a lot of outdoor activities. But more importantly, kickboxing has helped me discover a part of myself that I never knew existed.
Photo by bruce mars on Unsplash
by rossanahead | Mar 14, 2011 | children, Education, woman
By Bubbles Salvador
My son is barely two and people have been asking me, “Where are you sending Luis to school next year?”
I remember very little about my preschool years but I do know that I was only in a kindergarten class before I went to first grade. I didn’t even attend nursery class like most of my classmates did. Although I didn’t graduate a cum laude from college, I think I’m okay.
So you understand the baffled look on my face when people would ask me that question. “But he’ll only be three!” I’d say. And then sometimes I would get these mortified looks that seem to say, “Que horror! You mean you’re not sending your son to playschool?”
I know of moms who sent their kids to school at two years old, and the kids are turning out to be brilliant. On the other hand, a guy I know only went to preparatory class before first grade, and he placed tenth in the medical board exams after college. I think the cliché “case to case basis” applies here.
So what will it be for Luis? The truth is, I don’t know. Yet. It seems horrible for a parent not to have any plans for her child’s education. But the question of whether we are sending him to playschool at three years old is something my husband and I are still mulling over.
There’s this mom I know who started home schooling her son when he was three, before she sent him to a regular preschool. I have to say that this is a tempting, not to mention a very inexpensive, option. I heard that the tuition fee in playschools could run up to a hundred thousand per year.
Oh, but lucky for us, we have one more year. How about we wait and see?
Photo by BBC Creative on Unsplash
