by rossanahead | May 5, 2011 | children, parenting, Ruth M. Floresca, woman
By Ruth Manimtim-Floresca
It’s weird (in a good way) how a lot of women, who have met for the first time, could easily click and bond with one another when they find out they’re all moms. Having children, after all, can immediately spawn dozens of stories in a heartbeat. This is more true when moms of kids with special needs meet. I have found so many kindred souls online who know exactly what I have gone, or are going, through with my son who has cerebral palsy. There are dozens of them I have yet to meet face-to-face but I feel this strong connection every time we exchange e-mails or comment on each other’s Facebook statuses. I always know they “get” me the same way I “get” them.
A forwarded e-mail in one of the e-groups I belong to affirmed that we are members of a very elite sorority. “Some of us were invited to join immediately, some not for months or even years. Some of us even tried to refuse membership, but to no avail,” wrote the anonymous author.
All of us have one thing in common – we are mothers of children with special needs. And regardless of how different those needs are, we have mutual respect and empathy for all the women who walk in our shoes. I found myself smiling when I read, “We are knowledgeable. We have educated ourselves with whatever materials we could find. We know ‘the’ specialists in the field, ‘the’ neurologists, ‘the’ hospitals, ‘the’ wonder drugs, ‘the’ treatments. Without formal education, we could become board certified in neurology, endocrinology, and physiatry.” Indeed, I was once mistaken for a nurse after fluently explaining my son’s condition to a new doctor.
Since our journey began, we’ve greeted each morning wondering how we’d make it through another day and rest each night not sure, but marveling, how we were able to do it.
As moms of special needs’ kids, we have learned to deal with anything life throws at us because we’ll never stop believing in miracles, that the potentials of our children know no bounds and that, with faith, we will always be given the strength to survive one day at a time.
by rossanahead | May 3, 2011 | children, parenting, woman
By Jennifer Lee-Bonto
She was expecting a baby any moment. The OB-Gyne told her that she should be in Manila two weeks before her due date. The doctor had more reasons to be worried than that though. Pope John Paul II was arriving in Manila and included in his hectic schedule was celebrating mass at the UST Grandstand, which is inside the compound of the University of Santo Tomas, the oldest university in the Philippines. Coincidentally, the UST Hospital, where she was scheduled to give birth, is also inside the UST compound, so there lay the paranoia.
She was, of course, hardheaded. The Pope was already in Manila and she was still in Laguna, finishing her company’s yearly assessment and planning. Until one night, she couldn’t sleep because of the contractions. She knew she was having contractions but she tried to hold it out because there was no bus ride to Manila that early in the morning. She’d rather not wake up the people in the neighborhood and be the center of attraction. She held out the contractions until 6 a.m. when she felt she could not breathe normally anymore.
As soon as she woke her husband, they gathered some clothes and hit the road. It was a simple choice of riding a bus or getting to the nearest Los Banos hospital. But they weren’t thinking anymore. They went for the first bus on sight. Fortunately, it was bound for Buendia. Throughout the ride, she kept herself from panicking. Husband and pregnant wife did not let go of each other’s hands. They just stared at the seat in front of them.
Every time the contractions came, she would close her eyes, squeeze her husband’s hands, and silently count her breaths. Her husband would bow down, squint his eyes, and silently endure the squeezing on his arm while the stupefied passenger beside them by the window held his breath. The rest of the passengers continued their sleep unaware of the silent drama in row four.
She knew that if she gave birth in an airplane, her baby would be a free flyer forever but she never heard anything about a free bus rider forever.
When they got down the bus terminal, she couldn’t keep her face from crumpling. She wasn’t shouting but during contractions, she had to stop her slow walk. The street food vendors knew what was happening and couldn’t help but be rattled, “Naku! Manganganak na ‘yung ale!” (Look! The woman is about the give birth!)
The first taxi was all run-down but it was no time to be picky. But like most of the taxis in the metropolis, run-down taxi drivers can be more picky than others.
“Naku ser, may blockade na sa Nagtahan, hindi na tayo makakalusot. Sa Makati Medical na lang tayo,” (“Sir, there’s a blockade at Nagtahan. We can’t pass through. Let’s go to Makati Medical Center instead.”), the driver blurted out. The blockade at Nagtahan, a highway leading to UST, only confirmed that that morning was the same morning when the Pope would say mass at the grandstand.
She almost hear her OB’s voice reverberating in her eardrums, “I told you, hija! You have to be here before the Pope gets here!”
But they couldn’t afford Makati Medical Center and the OB was commissioned at UST, so they tried to get another cab. Luckily, the
next taxi driver not only took the maternity challenge, he was also driving a brand new Toyota Corolla. As soon as they got inside the cab, the driver put on his hazard lights. If the husband could have swallowed a siren, he would have opened his mouth as well.
Nagtahan was closed and the whole street was lined with onlookers and well-wishers. The Pope was going to pass through that same highway. Their taxicab approached the police barricade and signaled to the policeman that an emergency was at hand. It was the only time when she gave out shrieks of pain to the best of her overacting abilities. The kind policeman let them pass. The taxi got through.
They were the only vehicle in Nagtahan. That was how a VIP felt. The busy road was all to themselves, both sides. The well-wishers lined at the sides all knew that there was an emergency because the taxi didn’t have tinted windows.
In a few seconds, six by six trucks filled with army soldiers escorted them. It was the escort of the Pope and was supposed to be a few meters ahead of the Pope. It just so happened that the taxi was there and so it appeared that they were escorting the taxicab. Behind the cab, was the Pope mobile with no less than His Eminence Pope John Paul II himself waving at the crowd.
If they arrived in Nagtahan a little less than a minute, she would have given birth inside the taxi. They owed a lot to the Pope who was able to close Nagtahan for them and even allowed them to get ahead of him, a few meters ahead of him. It was more than enough meters of a miracle they needed.
While the Pope was saying mass at the UST Grandstand, she gave birth to a six-pound baby boy. Much to the dismay of a tabloid reporter, they named him Victor Boanerges which means “the victorious son of thunder.” And to make them grateful every day for that miraculous moment brought by Pope Paul, they nicknamed Victor, Popie.
A few years after, Popie got circumcised on the day that Pope John Paul II died, but that’s another story!
by rossanahead | May 2, 2011 | children, family, Karen Galarpe, parenting
By Karen Galarpe
It’s been a year since I went back to the gym, and throughout the past months, I get a kick whenever I would put on my special white shirt, hit the treadmill, and afterward lift those 5-pound dumbbells.
The special shirt is just a simple white tee given by my close friend Nancy, and it says “Super Mom.” It comes with its own S logo, much like the one in Superman’s costume.
Me, Super Mom? Yeah.
I’ll be the first to admit, though, that I’m no perfect mom.
I can’t cook well, nurture a plant, crochet, sew clothes, change a lightbulb, fix a leaking pipe, or patch a hole in the roof. I don’t even know how to make my own pesto sauce.
But I can make tacos (using taco seasoning mix), bring my son to school and pick him up when I can, workout beside him, try out new restaurants with him, and never leave his side at the hospital when he’s sick.
I can’t remember to buy all the things on my grocery list in my head, or remember the brand of batteries he prefers. But I can search for the perfect suit within our budget for prom night, and remember to have mosquito repellent and hand sanitizer available at all times.
I can’t teach him how to drive (he learned from others), but I can be there with him for any school activity: card-giving, PTC, program, family day, etc.
I can’t be all, or do all. But I can do some, and do it well.
I’m not perfect (only God is), but I’m one who would like to do her best (“be super”) in everything with God’s help.
I know many moms may feel the same way — we’re a bunch of Super Moms!
As Mother’s Day draws near, here’s a toast to all you Super Moms out there. We’re cool. We’re super!
by rossanahead | May 1, 2011 | career, Gina Abuyuan, parenting, woman
By Gina Abuyuan
I’m a WAHM—a Work At Home Mom. Aside from the assignments I work on at home, most of my time nowadays has been taken up by a book project, for which I go to my client’s home and we pore over her manuscript there.
I’m about to go crazy.
Understandably, I got a wonderful rush yesterday when I went out to my first meeting not situated in a structure with a sala, a kitchen, a bedroom, and a maid to call on when you need water. Finally! An environment with strangers! With food you had to pay for! And me actually caring for how I looked like!
Working from home does have its upsides—obviously, you get to spend more time with your kids and work without having to commute or dress up. On the other hand, it can be stressful, especially when homework needs coincide with deadlines, or clients are a-calling while the kids are causing a ruckus. It also keeps you more than a tad isolated from the outside world and other adults. So much so that a visit to the mall may seem like the most exciting thing to happen all week, and coffee with other grown-ups is something you want to last forever. A burnout isn’t far away if a WAHM doesn’t take care of herself.
How to prevent it? Some tips:
* Set a schedule, just like you would do if you were working in an office. Before or beyond 9 a.m. and 7 p.m., for example, is time for family. Working at home is for naught if you don’t get to enjoy what WAHMs have over regular working moms: getting more time with the kids. During your “off” hours, allow yourself to play. If needed, you can resume your work after the kids are asleep.
* Designate an errand day. Spend one day a week to get everything done outside your home; stuff like paying bills or going on a bank run, doing groceries, going to the dry cleaners or having clothes altered…you’ll get things done while at the same time, preventing cabin fever!
* Designate a “no kids zone” in your home. In my case I had to build a separate room in our garage. As expected, the kids don’t strictly follow the rule and we end up “working” side by side. My partner and I decided it would be better if we rent a studio nearby to serve as our office. The kids haven’t even been there yet, haha.
* Don’t forget downtime with your spouse or partner. After playtime with kids, you and your partner deserve time together. Step out on a date or snuggle up while watching a movie. Lock the door.
* Have lunch with a girlfriend. WAHMs, SAHMs (stay-at-home moms), and regular working moms—it doesn’t matter. We’re all busy in our own ways, but need time to connect and talk about…well, what women talk about. Make an effort to stay in touch with your friends.
* Get some exercise. In between Skype meetings, go for a walk, a run, a swim. Do some yoga. Me, I hop on a stepper and lift free weights while taking a break. Exercise is a great de-stressor.
* Pay attention to your looks and pamper yourself. Looking lousy will make you feel lousy as well. Being able to close deals while you’re in your pajamas may be a perk, yes, but don’t get too used to it. Don’t forget to groom your brows, get the occasional mani-pedi, hair treatment. Stay fab!
![A Bunch of Flowers]()
by rossanahead | Apr 30, 2011 | children, family, parenting, Rossana Llenado, woman
By Rossana L. Llenado One of my most vivid memories of my son Nicolo happened when he was just three years old. We were admiring the blooms at a flower shop in SM Megamall. And behind us was a bunch of other mommies looking at the beautiful floral arrangements. I must have looked so pleased because after some time, Nicolo said, “When I grow up, I’m going to buy you all these flowers!” My heart jumped to my throat. Like most three-year-olds, I knew that mommy was still the center of his universe. Nevertheless, his words filled me with joy. He said, “I’m going to buy you all these flowers!” I’ve been given flowers before but nothing beats the promise of my young beloved. Today, Nicolo is 15 years old. And true to his words, he has given me flowers through the years. He would give me bouquets on Mother’s Day and on my birthday. Once, he even gave me a bunch of roses. Put together, his gift of flowers would not be able to fill up a floral shop. But still, I am very happy. Next month, Nicolo will turn 16. Yes, my once sweet toddler will soon become a full-fledged teenager. And already, he’s talking about going to a soiree—an impending event which has brought me a bit of anxiety. Because after the soirees will come the crushes, and then the group dates and the prom, and soon, my once sweet toddler will be giving flowers to someone other than yours truly. I knew it would happen someday soon. And when it does, I will not cry. I will not shed a tear. I will be happy for my son Nicolo as he experiences the first throes of young love. But till then, I have the memory of this handsome three-year-old who made my heart jump with joy.
by rossanahead | Apr 26, 2011 | children, family, Karen Galarpe, parenting, woman
By Karen Galarpe
I felt it first early this month when I woke up at past 6 in the morning with the sunlight peeking through the blinds. Ah…it’s summer. And what a glorious day: I had 8 hours of sleep and no one had to rush that morning!
For years whenever it’s school season, I would wake up at 5 a.m. while it’s still dark outside to have a few minutes of quiet time before my son wakes up for school.
Then the frenzy starts as breakfast and baon for recess and lunch are prepared, schoolbag is checked, missing items searched for, both student and driver (me at times) get dressed, etc.
After the mad rush, it’s fulfilling to have my son out the door in time to make it to class without being late.
Some years ago, I interviewed an American psychologist who was a guidance counselor at an international school in Manila. And she said there are three times in a day when parents should be around as much as possible for their children: one, when a child leaves for school; two, when a child comes home from school; and three, when a child is about to go to bed.
Busy parents may not have the luxury of time to be there at all three times, but two is good, and one is better than zero.
So, back to summer. With school out, it’s a more laid-back lifestyle for moms, with time to read, play with the dogs, check out new places, catch up on sleep, and just relax–in the cool company of one’s kids. The living is easy. Life is good. Enjoy summer!
