May 26, 2006

Yaya-Free Two Weeks

People have been asking why I haven’t been blogging lately. My million-dollar answer: Yaya went on vacation.

For quite a while, the same song lyrics tauntingly played over and over in my head like a broken record:
“You don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone…”

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if our tot was not a constantly overly wired blazing bundle of impish energy. But he is. And maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if our yaya was not so super that she effortlessly manages to keep our apartment spic and span while keeping our baby Olympian out of trouble 24/7. But she is.

It was thus inevitable that our domestic affairs be reduced to a state of ARRRRRRRGH! after our valued help escaped to her provincial hometown. For two seemingly endless weeks, my husband and I became reluctant anti-socials as we took turns striving to maintain the presentability of our home while valiantly trying to protect our darling boy-on-the-go from mishap.

This proved to be a Herculean challenge, considering that our son’s favorite top ten activities include: (1) playing with electrical plugs and sockets, (2) throwing anything he can think of into the bathtub and toilet bowl, (3) boldly walking and crawling beneath and into any dark space he can find to start a game of hide-and-seek, (4) hurling objects across the room to see how far they can go (although, according to his father, the kid can throw and may just have a bright athletic future ahead), (5) putting everything that can fit into his mouth, (6) repeatedly turning the TV, DVD player and electric fan on and off, (7) affectionately (albeit a tad ferociously) slapping people on the face when he is happy to see them, (8) manically swiping at all items on tables/shelves/desks within his reach and gleefully watching them fall to the floor, (9) enthusiastically pulling clothes and shoes out of open closets, and (10) wildly jumping up and down the very precarious sides of our bed.

My husband and I became more stressed than we cared to admit. Anyone who dared visit us during this chaotic nanny-free period suddenly became an on-the-spot assistant babysitter (thanks for bravely assisting me in that nasty diaper change, Jennigirl!). My mother suddenly became a precious ally as she sent contingent troops plucked from her own household team to lend a helping hand when most needed. Elmo and Barney became my heroes as their videos kept our little eager beaver beautifully preoccupied for at least fifteen minutes at a time.

I kept wondering how other mothers with lots of children coped. I also thought of the people I knew who successfully raised their children without the aid of nannies. They deserve a crown. They really do.

We were literally counting down the hours to yaya’s return. On her scheduled day of arrival, we ourselves drove to the domestic airport to pick her up. Upon seeing her, I had to restrain the overpowering urge to hug her with relief. When yaya climbed into our vehicle, she immediately hugged our baby and said how much she missed him. She then proceeded to hand us bags of assorted pasalubongs she thoughtfully got us from Davao. Awwwwww. Didn’t I tell you she was super?

At last, things are now back to normal at the home front. That is, until yaya’s next vacation!

May 03, 2006

Some Kind of Wonderful Crap

Ever have one of those days when you just feel so utterly, unbelievably, inexplicably crappy? When you just want to shut out the entire world and bury yourself in bed the whole day to bemoan your sordid state of being?

Yesterday was that kind of day for me. Maybe my period had something to do with it or the maddeningly cloying summer heat I woke up to, or both. Whatever the cause, the effect was impossible to ignore as it sickeningly pervaded and depressed my total sense of self. I felt downright icky, ugly, moronic, ancient, and elephantastically fat.

My husband was in a photo shoot on location for most of the day so I was left at home with our one-year old son. It did not help that our baby has now become more hyper than the Energizer Bunny and more mischievous than Dennis the Menace, demanding man-to-man guarding and undivided attention. By the time the little imp finally napped, I was exhausted.

I tried to finish some work for our studio but my head wasn’t in it so I gave up. I started reading a book but the story did not enthrall enough to keep me turning the pages. I went back and forth the gazillion TV channels; remarkably, nothing interesting was on. I thought of going to the salon to get my hair styled and my nails done, but I felt too lethargic to bother going out. I ended up staring morosely at the mirror, lamenting the lost fabulous splendor of my youth.

I could not wait for the horridly dismal day to end.

I was somewhat relieved when evening fell and the blackened sky complemented my dark mood. Upon returning, my husband must have noticed my foul disposition because he wisely let me be and mostly kept out of the way.

As we finally got to bed, I found myself tossing and turning about, desperately hoping to sink into a deep peaceful slumber. Suddenly, without warning, my husband turned to me and looked straight into my eyes. He soothingly stroked my hair and very gently caressed the side of my face. He then smiled at me with utmost tenderness and whispered:
“Hey beautiful, I love you.”

I could not help but smile back. Tears instantly sprung to my eyes as mixed emotions of overwhelming gratitude, joy and love seared inside me. I felt all the negative energies I was harboring throughout the day dissipate and melt into nothingness. I thankfully succumbed to my husband’s warm embrace and stayed comfortably ensconced in his arms until I at last fell into a blissful, undisturbed sleep.

Wouldn’t you know it? My crappy day still managed to end up to be some kind of wonderful.