Ramblings of an Exhausted Mind

I am tired. I am so tired that the minute I close my eyes, I immediately go to REM. I swear! I think I have probably taken on more than I can chew, but I am dealing with them. I function at 5-6 hours a day - and if I get at least 7 hours of sleep, I am very happy.

I am freaking exhausted, but I am having fun - a helluva lot of fun.

I went back to school, and I realized I love studying. I love learning. I love the rush. I'd probably go back for more.

Life is funny sometimes.

No, scratch that. Life is such a freaking joker. It's like a freaking monster that rears up every now and then, and bites you where it hurts like hell - your ass.

God, I am tired. Have I said that already? I am so tired that my mind goes blank as I try to write something. Everything is the same, truth be told. But I love the fact that I am owning my life - or at least have taken the steps to owning it.

Every now and then, I allow myself to think. Unfortunately, that's not too often.

I am rambling. You do not have to read.

Earlier, I was asked by my professor, "What do you do when you are doing nothing?"

I can't think of anything because I have been so busy with a lot of things that I have forgotten the last time I was "doing nothing". Of course, I find the question a bit ridiculous. I don't think that there's really ever a time that you are not doing anything, right?

Play of words.

Still, I haven't been asked questions like that for such a long time, so I kind of enjoyed the debate. My teacher, a philosophy teacher, is a bit progressive in his approach to teaching. He's actually fun - and he's learn-ed.

I am rambling, I know. Again, you don't have to read. I am actually trying to think of something to write, but god, I am exhausted. I really should just hit the sack and work tomorrow. I need the rest.

The Gary V. concert and the trip to Legaspi will definitely do me good.

Anyway, let me share some photos. These are just a few of the things that made me smile the past couple of weeks, I think. :)

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A Fork in the Road

I can't sleep - and damn it, I feel like I can't breathe. I am trying to hold back tears and I am failing miserably.

I am not good at this. I hate this. Ironically, I should be very good at this. I have had 16 years of practice, but this is not easy for me.

I should be sleeping. I have just put Riley to bed for the nth time. I am tired and my stomach hurts. But I can't sleep. It's actually quite pathetic.

But after 5 years of having him near me - and being with him 24/7, it sucks not to have him around at all times.

Sacrifices, they say, are a part of marriage. I should know. I grew up without my mother. Still, this is hard.

I feel I can't breathe. He's not even that far. But once or twice a week is a huge change from everyday 24/7. It's hard not to have him around to tell things to when something amuses me, enrages me, hurts me, fascinates me...

You see, after five years of marriage, my husband is not only the love of my life, he is also my very best friend.

Crying helps, I think. It is healing. At least, I don't have my emotions bottled up inside me anymore. That is another fuck up thing though - he's the only who can comfort me when I am depressed or sad. And I don't have that source of comfort with me right now.

I have to be strong though because I always have to be the stronger one. What makes me even sadder though is the fact that Paige is going to miss him badly. Oh, well. At least I got to let that all out.

Forgive me. I shouldn't be blogging this, but I need to.

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Morbid Threats

Paige is a sassy, silly, funny little girl, but she can be a pain in the ass too. My father calls her "Paige the Menace".

I toyed with the idea of downloading Dennis the Menace for her, but I changed my mind - she might end up burning the whole neighborhood.

I once blogged about the possibility of her having ADHD. Sussette assured me though that she did not see any reason why I should think Paige has it. Although my worry has abated, I still find myself wondering if I should get Paige checked for the condition.

Anyway, I think Paige's problem is not ADHD - it's actually the utter and complete lack of discipline. No, scratch that, we I discipline her, but it's hard after years of being spoiled by her grandmother.

Anyway, I digress. Yesterday evening, my mother was watching TV while Paige stood in front of the mirror busily removing her boogers. :)

After a few minutes, she casually went to my mother and wiped her fingers on my mother's cheek. And she started laughing.

Busily watching her soap operas, my mother didn't know that she had boogers on her cheeks until I pointed them out to her.

Naturally, Mamu got mad and she started lecturing Paige. "Bad yan baby! Sabi ko baga saimo, maaanggot ang angel mo. Mauugma ang devil. Sige ka kukuanun ka kang devil, ano Tere?"

Turning to me, she said, "Ne, yan na ngunian ang patakot ko saiya."

She once again addressed Paige, "Tapos magagadan ka, ano Tere?" Magagadan? I thought. She continued, "Tapos ilulubong ka... tapos maruluwas ang mga bulate sa dungo mo... "

Bulate sa dungo? I thought.

"...maruluwas pati halas sa mata mo, ano Tere?"

Aghast, I just stood there silent. I couldn't believe what she was saying. Then she asked again, "Ano, Tere?"

I gave out a big sigh and then promptly turned away, muttering, "Morbidun man po Mommy pigpaparasabi mo." I could hear my mother's laughter while I walked away.

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If A Picture Paint a Thousand Words

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Paige and Riley Vids

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Stinkhole

For months now, mamu has been complaining about my cousins' room - or the state of it. We have three cousins staying with us - all of them college students. Anyway, Mamu has called it a pig sty. I was not completely convinced (because Mommy tends to exaggerate - she likes doing so because she likes spicing up her stories) until I saw the room for myself.

I do not really enter other people's room, so I have not seen the state of this room despite Mamu's complaints. Until the other day.

Paige wore her favorite gown that day. She knows that I'd get mad, so she tried to hide from me. She entered my cousins' room and hid under the bed. I had no choice but to look for her there - in effect, I was able to enter the controversial lair.

And I realized my mother was not exaggerating at all. Take a look for yourself -

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My Life in 5 Photos

Malunggay and Sabaw - the Perfect Food for breastfeeding mother. Well, I try. I cannot call myself a breastfeeding mother, however. I am failing miserably, but damn it. I am trying. I am not giving up. I will not. I will not!!!


I massacred these ants. I do not apologize. There is no death penalty or reclusion perpetua for mass murder of ants. They deserve it. Those blasted brainless creatures.




Yep, this is a disgusting photo. It's Riley's poop on my thigh. I hope you haven't eaten your breakfast, lunch or dinner yet. I've gotten used to it though. I have been pooped, peed on and vomited on for the last three weeks. It's a pretty good life indeed.


This photograph is for my sister. This is the parent's initial harvest. There is more to harvest. They've turned the front yard into a rice field. What's amazing though is that they've left it there for the last three days and nobody has stolen them yet! I swear! I cannot imagine where all the thieves and robbers have gone.


See this? This is my accomplishment. I'm proud of this - it's pathetic, but I am proud of this. Fairly soon enough, I'd be a "dried-up" mother who once dreamt of breasts that produce milk for cheese production. I actually thought I'd give that breast milk lady in eBay a run for her money. Stupid.

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Eat Your Vegetables!

Once a mother always a mother... You'll always worry about your children - yes, even when your child is 30 years old and has two kids of her own. You will never fail to hand over whatever it is you're eating (and still wanting to eat) if you're child asks for it. And you will always nag your child about eating right - and eating vegetables.

I generally don't like eating vegetables. No, scratch that. I like vegetables except okra. I generally deplore Okra. I think it's a sick vegetable. It has mucus for god's sake! Who would like to eat a vegetable with mucus in it. And it has hairs. It's generally an icky veggie. I will not force it on anyone especially my children. If one day, Paige tells me she hates it, I'd nod my head and say, "Yes, I understand my child it's an icky vegetable with hair and mucus. Who would want to eat that?"

And then there's this other vegetable. They call it the parapagulong. I probably don't have the name right, but it's name ends with gulong - so, that's that.

Anyway, while eating our lunch earlier, I was feeding Paige while talking to Mamu who was sitting across the table from me eating her lunch as well. We had tinola for lunch. And I was making Paige eat her papaya. The tinola had the papaya and parapagulong mixed in it.

I was convincing Paige to eat the papaya, telling her she'd be prettier if she eats it. All the while, Mamu was nagging me to eat the parapagulong, "Ay ta magkakan ka baya nene kaini... Mamaray ang udo mo." (I think she has given up on me growing prettier if I eat my veggies, so it's basically about my bowels from here on. ☺)

Anyway while I was force-feeding Paige with Papaya, Mamu was dropping every piece of parapagulong on my plate. While Paige was complaining about the papaya, my face was all scrunched up, irritated with all the parapagulong on my plate, "Tama na ini Mama ha? Ini na lang.. ini na lang! Dai mo na po dagdagan!"

It was only then that I realized what was happening. Two generations of Mothers. It never changes. It's always about making your child eat her vegetables. I pointed it out to Mamu and we had a good laugh over it. ♥

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White Lab Coats and Scrubs - It's All About Chic and Comfort

I’m a huge fan of Grey’s Anatomy. Over the years, I have developed a certain fascination for white lab coats. Of course, I am not going to start wearing one anytime soon – lest, I’d end up in a place where a lot of people wear these coats. You know how it’s like when you go to a hospital for an emergency check up or enema, you get to see people wearing these coats and you can’t help but stare at them? You don’t? Okay, maybe that’s just me. But I swear I find myself watching them. (I am the same way with nuns and their habits.)

Anyway, there is something fascinating about doctors and their coats. I like the idea that they can wear just about anything underneath those coats and they can still look good.

For instance, check out this coat at Blue Sky Scrubs. It’s advertised as wrinkle free or resistant and it's 100% cotton. That just screams “COMFORT!” If I were in need of a coat, I’d likely grab this one as well. It’s also advertised as “slimming". You would also look chic in it. I would definitely want to look slim and chic while I save someone’s life. This one also has plenty of pockets, so you can practically bring everything you need while you go on rounds. If I were to enroll in Medical school anytime soon, I'd get this one.

The same goes for nurses I think, they can wear anything inside their uniforms and scrubs and they‘d still also look good. They also look incredibly comfortable. I guess comfort is a huge thing for doctors and nurses. After all, they put in hours and hours of grueling work and they cannot very well be wearing anything less than comfortable. I guess this is particularly true with nurses who – well, in my opinion – put in more hours than doctors.

If you are studying to become a nurse or a doctor, being able to wear scrubs or coats may just be one of the perks. Well, maybe wearing them can get tiresome in the long run, but as long as you buy white lab coat and scrub from a good retailer, I think you will be able to enjoy your coats and scrubs for a long time.

Disclaimer: This is a Paid Entry

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A Weird Thought on Vampires

Can menstrual blood drive vampires into a feeding frenzy? For instance, if you throw a bloody napkin at them, will that drive them to think, "Ah, food!"

It's blood, isn't it? Granted it's from the uterus, but still... it's blood! I wonder if Edward Cullen likes menstrual blood. Oh yeah, I forgot.. he's vegetarian. That friggin' glittering vampire doesn't eat people.

If you'd squeeze 100 bloody napkins and offer the extracted blood to a vampire, will he drink it?

Okay, this is not just a weird thought - it's a disgusting one. I'll end this now.

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I'm the Sun! Hah!

Early this morning, I opened up my Google Reader and checked out interesting blog posts from bloggers I follow. I giggled at Mot's entries. He is a blogger I recently followed by the way. If he is single, I would have tried to match him up with Ms. Francisco. But she's probably tired of matchmaking by now and she'd likely kill me if I dare make the suggestion. After all, she has been quite vocal about her depression. Why are you depressed by the way?

Anyway, I came across Luna's latest entry entitled "What Time of the Day Are You?" I'd usually roll my eyes at this kind of erm.. crap test (sorry Luns) but Luna's test result was -- well, poetic.

You’re the time of day right around sunrise, when the sky is still a pale bluish gray. The streets are empty, and the grass and leaves are a little bit sparkly with dew. You are the sound of a few chirpy birds outside the window. You are quiet, peaceful, and contemplative. If you move slowly, it’s not because you’re lazy — it’s because you know there’s no reason to rush. You move like a relaxed cat, pausing for deep stretches that make your muscles feel alive. You are long sips of tea or coffee (out of a mug that’s held with both hands) that slowly warm your insides just as the sun is brightening the sky.

pale bluish gray... sparkly with dew... mug held with both hands ♨ ... see? poetic. (By the way, luns, this perfectly describes you.)

She's 6:49 a.m. I like that. She's 6:49 in the morning - and I wondered what time of the day am I? Am I 7:33? 5:42? 9:15? I wanted to know what time of the day am I as well. So, anyway, I did some Google search to look for the test and I got it. I don't know if it's the right one though. I was not given a specific hour/minute. Instead, I got this result -

You Are Sunrise
You enjoy living a slow, fulfilling life. You enjoy living every moment, no matter how ordinary. You are a person of reflection and meditation. You start and end every day by looking inward. Caring and giving, you enjoy making people happy. You're often cooking for friends or buying them gifts.

All in all, you know how to love life for what it is - not for how it should be.

I like this one too. :)
It reminded me of a card I received from a friend. I think I talked about this before. I have received a lot of compliments - I'd likely kill myself if I hadn't... I'm freaking 30 years old. I should be entitled to a few compliments thrown my way, but anyway I digress.

As I was saying, the best compliment I have ever received was given by a girl friend, Cheryl. Back in 2003 (I remember this distinctly because I was with my ass-ex when I got it. I was dating an ass - and you can't forget an ass especially if it bit you in the butt - figuratively speaking, of course). She gave me a Christmas card and it said, "You are like the Sun ☼. Everything gravitates towards you."

I think it's as good as one can get. I'm the freaking sun. Hah. Beat that. This test just confirms it. ☺ The cooking and buying gifts part though is not true. I'm too stingy for that. ♥

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Dear Digitel

You suck.
Just when I think you couldn't suck more, you prove me wrong. You suck big time.
Your service sucks.
Your technical team sucks.
The customer service operators I've talked to suck even more.
They are a bunch of mindless morons who know nothing but to spout out the same relentless idiotic drivel that you seem to have taught them.
"Oh, I'm sorry for the inconvenience, ma'am."
"I am going to forward this to the technical team."
blah.blah.blah.blah.
I am going to transfer to another ISP and I'd likely sock the lights off anyone who come near here with a stupid bill from your company.
You don't mess with a woman with a ripped uterus!

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Paige's Our Father

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The Day Riley Came Home from the Hospital

and Paige was really, really happy and excited...

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Papa's Girl

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Obsessed with Breasts

I refuse to think that these breasts are just meant for sex.

That got your attention, right?

It was meant to. I am obsessed with breasts. - mine specifically. I am obsessed about these babies milk production capacity. Ever heard of women whose breasts produce a lot of milk that they are selling their milk on eBay? Have you heard of Chef Daniel whose wife produces a lot of milk that he decided to make cheese out of his wife's breast milk? Well, I'm not like them. This is why I am obsessed with breast milk. And I have never exposed my breasts as much as I have the past few days. And in the quest for breast milk, I haven't really thought about it.

The fact that I am writing about my breasts just shows how obsessed I am with breast milk production. I am a mother, god damn it! I refuse to believe that these appendages are meant only for...ugh.sex. (Insert eyes rolling here).

- 0 -

We have been out of the hospital for about a week now. I have not been able to write or blog - although I have lots of things to write about. I specifically wanted to write about this Midwife who I met in the hospital. She was about 45 years old with short hair and on the heavy side. Okay, I'll say it, she was fat. (I was trying to be politically correct, darn it.) She was nice though.

Anyway, we started chatting about babies and children... She is married with three kids, I think. I don't know how it happened but fairly soon enough, she was telling me about her 26-year-old sex-mate. I even got her to show me his text messages, one of which said, "Babe, pwede ba matikman ang katawan mo?" I would have made a great poker player. I did not even bat an eyelash when I said, "Ano man po si simbag mo?"

- 0 -

We are managing quite well. Yes, it feels like I haven't slept for ages, but we are managing quite well. It helps that the baby is not colicky and that she's pretty easy to take care of. Erbe is in-love with her. Right off the bat, the minute he saw her, he was all baby talk and "woo-chi-woo-chi-woo-chi". He thinks she looks like him - despite what everyone tells him otherwise.

Does she look like me? I think she kinda does. She has my eyebrows, my forehead, my ears - and yes, my nose (or at least they say so). I don't agree however. I have been staring at her for the past few days, trying to figure out where she got her nose. I have even asked Erbe several times if he's sure she's our baby. You see, she does not have a flat nose. I am cursed with one. Okay, I blame it on my genes and the fact that my grandfather managed to pass on his nose to us, his grandchildren, and even to his great grandchildren. Riley, however, does not have it. I think she must have been spared from the curse. :D

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Shy Riley

I should be blogging because I have a lot to write about. I just don't have the time and inclination right now.

Anyway, let me just post a few pictures. This is Leigh Riley, my daughter. She's a bit shy... :)

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The Day of Reckoning

I haven't slept yet. I am in a lot of discomfort. These days, I seem to be able to sleep only while getting a back massage. Erbe's massages lull me to sleep. They are very good physical lullabies.

I have been reading about my condition. Although I have not been officially diagnosed with symphysis pubis dysfunction, it seems to be the most rational explanation for this debilitating, intolerably painful condition. Unfortunately, I do not know whom to consult for this condition.

My former OB was pretty nonchalant about it. She just insisted on the cesarean section. Apparently, though, the condition resolves after delivery. However, there are people who never fully recover. I hope I am not one of them.

Anyway, with lots of reading, I have learned that vaginal delivery is not really advisable. There are horror stories everywhere - and I choose not to risk tearing up the ligaments once and for all. The best option is a c-section. I hope I can have the operation tomorrow.

With the doctor's permission, I will have myself confined this evening. Unfortunately, we called up earlier this morning and we were informed there is no room available. I hope we can get a room tonight. The pain is killing me. How painful is it? I can only compare it to a pound of flesh being slowly sliced into two. That's how painful it is.

I am okay as long as I don't move. Yes, it sucks. I am fortunate though that I have a very patient husband who loves me to pieces. He makes it all better.

Anyway, if things go well, I will have Riley with me tomorrow. I am very excited about that. We all are - Paige especially.

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Random Post

We visited my OB yesterday. After learning about my complaints, she suggested that I have my cesarean section this Friday. I gently refused. I don't want to miss out on the Fiesta - and I don't want to have people worrying about me while worrying about guests as well. So, I said I'll have it next week.

I am feeling a little bit better though. I was able to go out of the house yesterday - after a week. It took me a week to get better.

I am also taking a break from work. This means pocketbooks, DVDs and the Internet. I need this before I get hacked open. :)

I am super excited about the baby. Erbe and I have bought the basics. I figured, I need to have them at hand in case I suddenly go into labor.

I am also changing my OB. I am scheduled to meet up with Che's OB on Monday.

Anyway, this blog entry reminds me of my diary entries back in 6th grade which basically goes like this -
7:20 Flag Raising Ceremony
7:30 English - I aced the test.
8:20 Recess - I saw G. He was with his friends. I saw him threw something on the trash can. I picked it up. It was a drawing of Ultraman.
9:30 Chinese - I really don't like my teacher. She's a fat cow!
10:30 History - We didn't do anything. Madam Gurobat was absent.
11:30 HOME for lunch. I hate Daddy. I really, really hate him. (yes, unfortunately, there were entries like this. *sigh* teenagers!)

Basically, this goes on and on and on and on... :)

So, anyway, here are the five things that made me happy during my suffering:





Notice, most of them are foods? :D

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Open Letter

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