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Being a boob about motherhood

21 Jun



Oh happy day! (And subsequent pregnancy musings)

6 Sep

Oh happy day

August 31, 2011 was a very happy day (or the beginning of a very happy season). I called the lab, two hours after I got tested, and gave my name. Long pregnant pause (pun super intended), then she says “Positive, ma’am!” I asked if she was sure, and she said yes, and congratulations.

I run to my mom and sister who pretend (twiddling their thumbs together) they aren’t as eager about finding out, and scream about the good news. A furious fit of hugging and shouting and the sudden “Don’t be malikot” warning from my mother.


This comes after two years of marriage, and after having been diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome and Endometriosis at that. This is nothing short of a miracle. And we can’t hardly wait.

Two-tiered happy thing

This is a two-tiered happy thing: 1. I am having a baby (or babies, who knows, I may have multiples!) 2. I am having the child of the awesomest man I’ve ever met, the smartest, most wonderful, funniest person, my favorite person in the universe.

I’ve always been good with taking disappointment, probably because I try to not hope too much, or to say “well, even if it doesn’t happen…”

This time, though, I just felt challenged by God to believe audaciously, like I never have before. That the operative word of “Believer” is BELIEVE: To trust, to be expectant without buffering disappointment.

Thus far: While eating, I am thinking of what to eat next. I am constantly hungry, always sleepy, and incredibly excited for my first ultrasound a week from now.

Oh and on this note, please stop asking married people WHY they don’t have a baby yet, particularly when you aren’t part of their family in the least.

It’s intrusive, offensive and a lot of times just adds insult to injury.

To all our friends who waited with us with bated breath, (without pressure, without the annoying follow-up) thank you.

Of Wifely Chores and Animating

23 Feb

Although I sort of made a personal note to start blogging more regularly, things have gotten in the way. (As things usually do, pretty well, at that.) Nothing monumental about this post, just something I thought I ought to share. After all, this March, I will have been married for two (awesome) years.

Three things (Yes, a random number) I’ve learned about wife-ness.

1. It helps to put a nice photo of you and your husband on display in an area where you do most of your chores.  Nuff said.

2. That having been said, it helps to not think about the chore at hand. Haha. Case in point, I’m working on a pretty elaborate animation. Prepped dinner (thank you, Zach for taking over midway!) and after we all ate (my cousin Juancho is here for the week), I was thinking about the dishes I’d have to wash .

I picked up a trick somewhere in the span of two years– do not think. Space out and just do what you have to do, and it’ll be done in no time. I know this sounds like a Captain Obvious deduction, but it seriously does help a lot.

3. And the third tip is one I will stand by forever. Joy dishwashing liquid. is everything. it says it is. In our first few months together, I tried to scrimp on dishwashing liquid; reckoned they all did the same job. I was wrong. Joy goes such a long way, and it’s the only one that gets them dishes squeaky clean, not a trace of the dish that was on it. Those ads that show Michael V putting the stuff in a liter of water? You’d think it’d be watered down but that’s as potent as potent gets.

There goes another non-monumental post. Back to work.

Our wonderful happy home

Mexican Chili Beef Recipe

26 Jan

Here’s something you can whip up in less than 30 minutes.  This is our original recipe, tweaked and tested (and allegedly loved by our friends who’ve come over and tried it).

What you’ll need:

  • Worcestershire sauce
  • All spice powder (McCormick)
  • Salt
  • Pepper
  • 1 bottle of beer
  • 1 kilo of ground round/ground beef
  • Tomato sauce of your choice, 1 big pack
  • Brown sugar
  • Olive oil
  • Spanish Paprika
  • Chili Powder
  • Dried Oregano
  • Dried Basil
  • 2 red Onions
  • 1 clove of garlic
  • 1 pack of taco shells


1. Dice the onions (helpful diagram below for less tears. Haha) then pound the garlic with a mortar and pestle.

2. Preheat a pan with olive oil (doesn’t really matter which kind) and sautee your garlic and onions together. Nice.

4. Throw in your ground beef and then open the bottle of beer and pour in around half of it in. Make sure that all the beef soaks in the beer. Wait until the beef is nice and brown.

5. Put in around 4 tbsps of Worcestershire sauce (a tricky word to spell.) and let the beef simmer for a bit.

6. Throw in a beef cube or two (up to you).

6. Put in a palmful of Spanish paprika (remember that a palmful is not equal to a handful.) Put in some salt and pepper to season.

7. Stir in the tomato sauce packs. The trick here is just to keep testing the mix to make sure that it’s to your liking.  Put in brown sugar as your heart deee–sires!

8. Put in the chili powder sloooowly. Little by little, as it gets spicier as it cooks.

9. Put in a tbsp. of all spice, 2 tbsps. each of basil and oregano. Let simmer for around 6 minutes (a random number.)

When the folks at your house are ready to eat, warm some pandesal (around 6 per person is  a good number, just to be sure!) then chop the other onion, of course you could have done this earlier. Sorry. haha. Then throw in the UNCOOKED onions into the mix, and stir. When the eaters are well-behaved and settled down, put them in bowls (the chili, not the people) and crush the taco shells while still in the plastic bag it comes in. Distribute among the bowls. Serve piping hot with bread on the side!

Great with beer, of course! Yay!

At long last. The post has come along.

6 May

This post will be a lot like Zach though (not a post of many words)

It was glorious, absolutely wonderful. And one month later and some, it’s amazing. I just got sick last Monday and Zach cooked adobo for me (his first shot at it. And he hit it beautifully. haha)

I love that we share a home now, that I make him coffee and that he watches me slowly overcome my fear of frying. (not misspelled. You read it right. frying.)

At Mister Kabab, yesterday, after our first Rinka Collective jam in eons, It hit me: I always said I wanted to get married in Baguio. I can’t believe I just got hitched there. And to Zach. It’s crazy!

Anyway, so there, it was raining the days prior to the wedding, and we stood in faith, not backing down on our garden wedding, not compromising with tents, with no PLAN B, we asked God for sunny skies, and man. Did we get it. (Read: Sunburn)

Here’s the link to our slideshow, enjoy! 🙂

Chronicles of living in close proximity to strangers

24 Apr

Episode 1:  Alas, the sitcom begins.

No, I still can’t seem to post about the wedding, still feel I’ll shortchange it, so this will have to do for now. I WILL write about it, and post more pictures than you all care to see. Haha. Just. Not. Yet.


Wala kayo magagawa, kahit saan kayo tumira, meron laging neighbor from hell.

— Kuya Karl and Ate Coots, on neighbors

Day 1: Zach and I are moving into our wonderful two-bedroom airy new home.  We keep the door open, and just as Ate Coots and Kuya Karl said, as if on cue, enter stage left: obnoxious little old lady with flaming red hair, (We henceforth christen her Bedustered) peeking into our house (attempting to be stealthy).  Shortly thereafter, while she leans inconspicuously(?) while peeping to see the innards of our house, a little boy with nothing but a diaper on him leans parallel to lola redhair and peeps as well, bottle in tow. (We henceforth christen the child “Bediapered”.)

Day 2: I open the door of our house to find Bediapered right smack at our doorstep, on a bike, biting on his bottle’s nipple to keep it from falling (since both hands are occupied with the bike).  For fear of having kids who are not our own in our house which is at this point, a veritable wreck enough without kids, I shut the door.

20 minutes later, I open the door, and Bediapered’s bike is parked on our doormat. Wonderful. I move his bike back to their front door.

Day 3: Bike parked in front of our door. Yet again.

Day 4: Zach and I watch the last full show of Slumdog Millionaire in greenbelt. After that, we appropriately head to Mister Kebab.  We head home, and as our cab pulls up to our front door, another character emerges on this sitcom we call our life.  Enter stage left: Man in nothing. but. boxers. Right across our unit. Squatting (rather vulgarly, given his attire) and smoking. We henceforth christen the man Beboxered.

Pretty anticlimax to blog about half-naked characters after such a momentous event, getting hitched.

We will get to it soon. For now, wait for more of these episodes. Yay.

Holy Kamote.

7 Apr

I used to check on Patty’s blog right after she got married. I wondered why in the world she hadn’t posted anything yet, thinking I would be raring to post after such a monumental event. Now I understand. Gah. Too many pictures, thoughts to post.

All I can muster, 10 days after getting hitched is this:

It was far, far more beautiful than I imagined it would be.

And ten days later, (I imagine, ten years later, as well) I’m still sighing.

I woke up at the unholy hour of 4am that day, with a song playing in my head: Oh happy day.