Doing the Right Thing

Doing the right thing… it’s not as easy as one would think. It sucks.  It definitely sucks. Especially when it means losing something that means so much to me…

Giving up something that makes me happy – it’s not easy.  But it is something that I need to do.  It is something that I cannot afford to keep.  I can’t wait for the shit to hit the fan. Before the shit hits, I need to let it go.  But I don’t want to. God, I don’t want to.  I’ve been deprived of the choice though. I can no longer choose. It has been chosen for me.  And I can’t insist…I can’t force.  It would be unfair. It would be hell.

How do you let go of something you look forward to everyday?

How easy is to let go of a thought that has been possessing you?

I wish it is easy.

But it will be easy. One day at a time. I’ll get used to things…

I will not look forward to anything.

I will not think of anything.

I will just live life the way I’ve always lived it – and maybe somehow things will work out the way they should.

I hate the tears. They pour easily. They pour no matter how many times I try to wipe them. I hate them.

I hate you. Somehow that thought slips through every now and then. I hate you. I hate you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Life. It is indomitable puzzle. Why things happen  - I don’t know. I just need to learn how to relive it, like I’ve always lived it 2,246,400 seconds ago.

And I will learn to love, love, love things that I’ve always loved – and learn to forget things I should have never cared for in the first place.

But I love you. I do. I do.

Sucks, huh?

The paradigm of a complicated existence.

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The Tooth Fairy

 

Paige lost another teeth.  And yes, we've been doing the whole Tooth Fairy routine.  Maybe someday, Paige will read my blog, so here we go, "Yes, baby, there is no Tooth Fairy. It was all just your crazy mother who has this insane need to create a bubble world for you where everything is sugar and spice, sweet and nice."

Why do I do that? Why?! Why?!

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Deluge

This place never fails to bring forth a torrent of bittersweet memories. I spent 8  years of my life here. I built friendships here. I met some of the most amazingly unique people I know in this place - brilliant people who helped me discover things about myself that I didn't know. I became my own person here. I fell in love here - twice in fact! And 'tis here too that I had my heart broken.

It's the same, but not the same every time I step foot in this place.  I can almost imagined seeing myself and my friends clad in that white blouse, tight gray skirt and gray tie which for the life of me, I can never seem to fix just right.  Law years didn't create as much impact; although there were people who did.

The memories can be crushing sometimes that I find myself only too happy to step out of its gates. There's only enough memories I can handle.

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Longing

noun.

yearning - desire - craving - hankering - hunger – thirst

adjective.

wishful - wistful - hungry - desirous - yearning – eager

“I don’t know what they are called, the spaces between seconds – but I think of you always in those intervals.”

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A Night for Van Gogh and Neruda

My favorite painter is Vincent Van Gogh.  He has always fascinated me.  Although, I’ve always loved realism as a form of art – his work has always called out to me.  His works have this sense of urgency.  You could imagine him slapping colors straight from the tube, trying to fight his demons.  Every color has its meaning.  Every coarse stroke reveals his inner struggle.  There is no other painter like him.  And that is why I’ve always loved him.

But then again, I’ve always been a sucker for anything sad.  And this is probably why I also love Pablo Neruda’s work.  Have you read his poems? I have. I devoured them. Some, I’ve memorized. His words are passionate, unapologetic, coarse.  He plays with words masterfully.  His imagery is sad but beautiful.

I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.
I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.
Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.
In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me.  I’m a bit melancholic tonight.  Oh, well. I should just hit the sack. It’s 11 already.

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It’s a “Good” Friday.

I was having a bad moment earlier. Really bad. The kind of bad that would land me in an asylum.

I didn’t want to put the kids to bed. I haven’t been feeling well all afternoon and I didn’t really have the patience for their bickering. It’s always constant bickering with the girls. Now, I know how my mother felt with me and my sister quarreling while growing up.  I’m echoing the same things she used to scream at us.

Anyway, Riley was crying because Erbe left the room.  She’s papa’s girl and she likes to have him put her to bed.  Because Erbe didn’t come back too soon for her, she cuddled next to me, whimpering.  So, I hugged her close until her sniffling stopped and I could feel her steady breathing. She was finally asleep. And I laid there, just looking at this one single star I could see from the window.  The curtains were open and the moon was so bright, I could see white clouds dotting the dark blue skies.  And there was this one star..just one star.

It was one of those moments – those perfect moments. My 2-year-old cuddled next to me, and I… I was staring at the sky, and that one single bright star. Those are the kinds of moments that you can’t buy…not even for a million bucks.

And suddenly, I didn’t feel so bad.

I felt grateful and blessed. And I started counting all my blessings…counting..counting…counting. And I realized all the things I convinced myself I need to have…I don’t really need them. I want them, but I have everything I need right now.  In fact, if I die tonight, I’ll die happy.

That was my last thought before I started praying…no, not really. I did not pray. I had a conversation with God. And it started with, “I’m sorry, I haven’t talked to you for a while now, but still…thank you…”

I haven’t been praying, you see. I realized it’s because my life has been really good that I haven’t found the need to pray.  So, I lay there for a while and allowed myself to pray.

Needless to say, it was a Good Friday. Yes, pun intended.

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Words That Describe Me

Furious. Enraged. Confused. Angry. Mad. Depressed. Sad.

Funny thing. I don’t know why.

I just dumped Riley outside – literally dumped her. She was making me so mad. It was either that or I hit her. So, I picked her up and then just gave her to her father.

My patience is in shreds. I feel like a volcano that’s about to erupt. I can’t blame it on hormones – or maybe I can. I don’t know. My sister once told me that I should consider estrogen therapy. It might help with my mood swings and volatile temperament. I thought estrogen therapy is for old biddies who are going through menopause. I haven’t asked my OB about it. I’ve always said I will visit my OB, but I haven’t. Maybe I should go tomorrow. I really should.

E understands what I am going through. I am just so mad about things… I really can’t talk about it here. I discovered that it’s easier to talk to strangers but it’s not easy to divulge some things to people who know me.

I have decisions that I have to make. I feel powerless. I want something but I can’t have it right now. I have responsibilities – and I am so tired of that word - “responsibility”.  The word is soul sucking. It’s the same word that drags you into this vicious cycle, endless monotonous cycle.

I want to eat everything in sight. I’ve long accepted that I am an emotional eater. And being aware of that, I have to stop myself from turning to food to feel better. This depresses me even more.

Along with the depression is this immeasurable resentment and anger.  It is there boiling..boiling..boiling. Sometimes, I explode. Just like a while ago when I couldn’t take Riley’s crying anymore.  It takes forever to get her to sleep.  I realized I won’t do it anymore. It’s up to E to do that from now on. I won’t do it anymore. I can’t.

I feel a little better. Writing my thoughts down always help. I still feel sad though. I’ve been feeling like this for the past three days. Only Korean soaps help. Oh, well. maybe estrogen shots would help as well. I really should get those shots.

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The First Time

We all have that – that one perfect moment. Looking back, you’d wish that you had the presence of mind to take stock and remember every perfect little detail. It’s that moment when you are exactly at the right place at the right time to meet that one person you will remember for the rest of your life. It doesn’t even matter if you end up with this person or not – only few are lucky to have that happy ending.

I don’t know if you’ve had that...if you have met that one person with whom you seem to have that instant cerebral connection. It’s a meeting of minds that creates a strong bond. It may not last, but it’s so strong that you want it to.

I had that.  It’s not something you easily find. I think everyone has that though. I think once in your banal existence, you’ve probably met someone you are so in sync with. Someone you can talk to for hours. Someone who wants to listen to your opinions, theories, stories – and never get tired of them. Someone you can listen to for hours and still hunger for more.

I didn’t really think I’d like the film. Rotten Tomatoes gave it bad reviews, but recently, I have discovered myself downloading shows and movies without bothering to check out what they are about in the first place. And this is what happened here. I have this film downloaded and I was like, “Hm. What is this?” So, I checked out the reviews and plots, and I found out some like it, some don’t. So, yeah, what the heck? I have downloaded it already, so why not watch it, right?  I didn’t even realize that I like the lead actor and actress. I’ve seen their respective shows.

The film starts and I was hooked. Curiously enough, it has a considerably simple plot.  It’s a couple of teenagers’ love story – and I am far cry from being a teenager, but the whole thing dragged my ass to 1999 when I, myself, was a teenager. And I watched. The chemistry between these actors was exceptional.

I like how they dealt with the reality of sex and first times. They’ve captured the whole thing perfectly – the shame, embarrassment, ignorance, vulnerability. After all, sex can sometimes be overrated. But I like how they dealt with it. I think your first time, like your first kiss, should be special. It is not something you just get over with. But unlike your first kiss, it’s not something insignificant. It’s either you enjoy it or not, regret it or not. But the thing is, it doesn’t even matter if you did enjoy it. Most people don’t. What is important is that you don’t regret the person you were with. After all, everyone loses their virginity eventually. Oh, scratch that. Not everyone.

So, yes, I did like this film. Dare I say, love it even.  Rotten Tomatoes reviews be damned.

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Got My Mojo Back

If there is one thing that can inspire me to write - that would be my sister's writing or blog. She's a goddess when it comes to writing. You should check out her blog and see for yourself.  Actually, she's the one who introduced me to blogging.

Every now and then, people would ask me, "What do you do?" Short of telling them to go fuck off, I always force myself to explain my work. But unless you're Internet savvy, I doubt that you would understand my work.   I started out as a writer and for a while there, I get this little pleasure from telling people, "I'm a writer".  Sometimes, conveniently dropping the word "content or online".   But I never really felt right about that.  There were times when I felt like a fraud for even uttering the divine word "writer".

But my sister, well, she's a writer.  She can write about the most mundane things and you'd probably devour them like they're the Revelation decrypted.  That's not something I can claim. I am a freaking fraud.

Fortunately, for me, I no longer have to say, "I'm a writer" - my work has evolved and it is even more complicated. I'd rather not explain. I do not write as much as I did before.  So, I enjoy blogging now.  Online writing has rules.  So, it's a pleasure to write without worrying about keyword placement or grammar.  I can curse and nobody will give a damn. After all, this is my blog.

I think I'll be writing again.

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Sssshhhh...

I have a secret. I have secrets. They are really not my own; although, I have my own.  There are secrets that I will never tell.  They are mine and mine to keep.

This day has been...well, interesting, to say the least.

Secret #1 is a good secret or a horrible one.  It depends on how you look at it and in whose perspective.  I think I can say the same thing for Secret #2.

Again, it can be a good secret or a horrible one. You can't say the same thing for all secrets. But I kind of like this one for pure selfish reasons, reasons that I am not really proud of.

Oh, well.

I never claimed that I'm a saint. I'm far from being one.

Oh, by the way, I have been blogging. It's easy to blog from my phone. It's quite convenient, so I often blog here. Just so you know. In case, you're interested which is quite unlikely. But hey, you're reading this, so what does that say about you?

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Staring At The Monster

Sometimes, bad things happen to people you love.  Often you'd find yourself pretending that it's not really "that bad" or that the monster will just go away.  Sometimes, you end up with a really stubborn one that refuses to let go.

And then, for a single second, it happens.  You find yourself staring at the same truth that you've been trying to ignore.

I'm staring at that now.

My daddy is sick.  He's not perfect, but he's my father. He has his eccentricities, but he taught me one thing � faith, absolute faith in God.

And it's that same faith that I'm holding on to right now. I'm worried. I'm really worried. He has been sick for months now.  He told me, however, that God will heal him.  He does not doubt that at all.

So, I should do the same. But I'm still worried because sometimes, God has other plans.  Sometimes, God sees things differently.

So, I'll stay right here, staring at my monster, hoping it won't open its mouth and eat me alive.

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Random Thought: 02.29.12

I feel sad. I don't know why but I do. Here I am, idly tapping on the keyboards. I still can't use my left hand properly. The damn cut still hurts, so I still have to rely heavily on my right hand.

I really do not know what to say. I just want to write and let my thoughts run. It does not matter where they end. I have been feeling sad since my parents decided to seek treatment for Daddy in Manila. He has been sick for four months now and the doctors here do not know what to do with him.

We have been to three doctors and none of them have been able to provide him with the right treatment plan. It is depressing. We have decided that the best course of action is to just throw the third finger at the doctors here and just go to Manila. I cannot accompany them however. My mother actually wants me to go with Daddy, but he wants her to go with him.

I wish he would just get better. It is so sad to see him like this, sick all the time. And it's his birthday today. :(

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En Route to Alcoholism Lane

I still feel like shit. Maybe my friend is right, I should just go right ahead and change the title of this blog to Rants of Oregano Addict.

My life isn't really miserable like I said. It's just that I haven't been sleeping well. Oh, I do sleep, but for the life of me I can't sleep for more than 5-6 hours!  I don't function well when I don't sleep for at least 8 hours.  I turn into a first-class bitch first-class depressed bitch. Anyway, I thought I'd try the alcoholism route. I thought I'd try a glass of red wine. Maybe it'll give me a little buzz, just enough to treat my sleeping problem.  This lack-of-sleep-induced depression has me thinking of my favorite Paolo Coelho book, Veronika Decides to Die.

If you're a bookworm like me, you've probably read Coelho's books.  You see, Coelho has taken the world by storm, but I find his writing a bit pretentious.  He likes to use words and characters that will try to get the readers to think and ultimately feel stupid for not seemingly getting exactly what Coelho wants to convey.  But that's just my opinion.  However, Veronika Decides to Die is far from being pretentious.  It's enlightening.  If you haven't read it, then you should.  You'll learn to see things differently.  You'll wake up, stand in front of the mirror, put on your tie and think, "I'll be damned, Coelho is right!"

This book is actually a fairly short novel. It's a book which will help you see normal as abnormal and abnormal as well, quite normal.  For instance, I've mentioned about the tie.  Society dictates that you get up in the morning, put on a tie and go to work. At the end of the day, you come home and you remove your tie and for a single second which you often barely notice, you feel so fucking relieved to finally get rid of the blasted tie.  Now, who told you to use a tie when you so obviously hate wearing one?  That's right, so-ci-e-ty and obviously, we follow what society dictates for after all, a deviation from the norm is automatically branded as abnormal or erroneous.

The book attempts to convey a simple message: you can conform OR you can rebel against the norm.  Choosing the latter allows you to unlock all your desires and live life the way it is meant to be lived. We don't always have to conform.  Sussette once told me that she'd rather choose insanity over suicide.  She said, she could run naked and it'd be okay.  After all, she wouldn't care.  Sometimes, we have to give in to bouts of insanity.  We have to experiment and realize our capacity and capability.  We can't do this if we worry about crooked ties and wrong fonts.

If you ask someone right now, "What would you do if you have a month to live," you can expect a bucket list of dreams and desires. Ironically, everyone lives for tomorrow and not for today, so they won't likely do a single thing in their list today.  We forget that we all live a fragile existence and we can't keep on waiting for tomorrow to happen. The fragility of our existence allows us to go a little crazy sometimes and do what our heart tells us to do. 

Now, what is on my bucket list?  I'll post my list as soon as I get my 8-hour sleep. After all, that's the number one on my list, sleep for as long as I want.  Speaking of sleep, I should finish my wine now and hit the sack.  By the way, if you bothered to read all that, that could only mean one thing, YOU LOVE ME OR you have nothing else better to do. :)

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Dilemma

I have been plagued with this freaking dilemma for the last couple of months. I had a plan, a good one.  It would have been easier if things happened exactly the way I planned.  Uh, no.  Au contraire, fate has been playing jokes on me, one after another.

Damn it.

I knew this wouldn't be easy, but fate is making it even harder.  I am having difficulty getting out of my comfort zone.  With all these curveballs, folding in a fetus position and staying inside this box is preferable to all the uncertainties I am getting. Darn it. I like it here.  Please don't make me come out.

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Happy New Year?

I swore I wouldn't write anything, but after watching How I Met Your Mother, I finally gave in.  I don't believe in New Year's resolutions. I believe, however, that New Year makes you introspective.  The turn of the year makes you want to sit down and take a good look at where your life is going.  This new year scares me.  Everything is all up in the air. Should I take the bar exam or not? Should I pursue teaching this year or not?  Everything is all up there. I have my plans but I don't know how everything will pan out.  It's not all within my control and I hate that.

In truth, new year is just another day.  It passes like any other day.  There is nothing special that really happens that marks the passing of another year.  The sun breaks and the night settles in as they should.  Curiously, however, it doesn't pass like any other day in our minds.  Because it's passing affects us.  It scares us, worries us, excites us.  It makes us hopeful or frightful.  It makes us sad or happy.  It makes us question our lives and our plans.  It forces us to take a good look at ourselves.

For some this year is going to be exciting and they already know it.  For some, they dread that this year is just going to be like every year of their lives.  For others, like me, this year marks the crossroads of their lives.

For me, this is the year to make some huge changes and finding the courage to make those changes and pursue a greater purpose.  I told Erbe that this year scares me.  He said, "because of the prophecy?"  It took a while for me to understand what prophecy he was talking about.  When the answer dawned on me, I burst out laughing and I laughed and laughed and laughed.  No, it's definitely not the prophecy.  This scares me because I am being forced to make some changes and I definitely like where I am in right now.  Unfortunately, I have to make these changes. :(

Anyway, happy New Year my dear readers.  I don't know who you are and what you wish to achieve this year, but I sincerely hope that you find what you're looking for.

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Love

Love.

It's a simple four letter word. It's practically a cliche. For love is a whore of a word. It has been used so often as a lie or as the truth.  It's easy to say...love. It rolls out the tongue like a soft breeze in a summer night. It's easy to say. What it is, however, is difficult to find.  Everybody wants it.  Everybody is looking for it, but not everyone finds it. 

Love.

Sometimes, you think you have it and then then you'd find yourself wondering if you really truly had it. It's what makes people give up their faith or give up on their dreams. Ironically, it's also the one thing that can truly drive men to great heights. It's consuming.

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Sampulong Gramo

It was my fault.
I handled it badly.
I should have said that I agreed with the things I was reading.
I don't like the way I handled things.
I wish I can have a second chance and I'd be able to handle it better.
No, things are definitely NOT better left unsaid.


I am setting up a new blog.
I am going to say goodbye to this one. Oh, no, I am not going to delete this. I will just continue blogging elsewhere.

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Do You Remember Your First Kiss?

Someone asks me why I haven't been blogging. Honestly, I just lost that need to tell my stories. For years, I'd write a post here and there - and it was for this person. Just on an off chance that this person  might just be reading my blog. Now, I don't feel that anymore. I've lost that and along with it, I've lost the need to tell stories - my stories. The thing is I don't have to blog these stories anymore.

But then the other night, someone asked me why I haven't been blogging. This someone asked me to continue blogging.  "I enjoy reading your blog," I was told. I haven't decided to stop blogging - I just don't feel like it. But then, here I am, procrastinating on work and I decided why not write a post?  It's Sunday and it should be a lazy day.

And then, I thought what should I write about? And I came up with a blank. I honestly don't have a story to tell. Until I started browsing the Internet and I read this - 

"According to Sheril Kirshenbaum, a scientist at the University of Texas, a first kiss is likely to be one of your most vivid memories, even more so than losing your virginity. Kirshenbaum's forthcoming book says that the memory is so distinct that most of us are able to recall 90% of the details.

But how well do you remember your first kiss? Was it behind the bike sheds at school, a university fresher's party or an altogether less predicable location? Did you regret it instantly or did it lead to true love? We want the stories of your first smooch." (source: Guardian)

That's curious. Is it really possible to remember your first kiss, even more so than losing your virginity? Curiously, enough, I agree.

I am one of those lucky ones. I have a pretty good story.  However, I have heard of horrible first kiss stories. A friend of mine wishes she'd develop selective amnesia so that she'd be able to completely forget the memory of her first kiss. I guess, who can blame her. It was hardly romantic. The guy was stuffing her hand down his pants while he slaps buckets of saliva on her face. Hardly romantic, huh? No, trust me, it was not even passionate.  It was definitely not the first kiss you would like to remember - unless of course, you were that guy and it was your first kiss and you were going, "oh yeah! oh yeah!" in your head.

It isn't just women.  Men definitely have bad stories as well.  I remember this guy friend telling me he hated his first kiss.  He was drinking with his High School friends and some girls came in.  When he was really drunk, this girl dragged him outside the house and stuffed her tongue down his throat.  She wasn't even his type.  I would have thought that this does not matter to men.  And he was a teenager!  With his raging hormones, you would think it wouldn't matter to him, but apparently it did.

I think we can blame it all on Snow White and Sleeping Beauty.  If you did not have a deprived childhood and your parents read your fairy tales - or at least bought you Betamax tapes (yes, betamax), so you could watch Disney cartoons - you probably have imagined a Snow White moment yourself.  Unfortunately, this is not always the case. Some people have to live with the memory of a pimply-faced boy with raging hormones or a man-eating teenage girl. But then again, some people have good stories to tell.

I'm one of the lucky ones, so I've said. But then telling you about it would mean writing another blog post. I'll come around to blogging about how it all happened. one day.  For now, here is what I think about that perfect first kiss.

In order for a first kiss to be great, it has to be:

1. With the person you care about and who cares about you

2. the culminating moment.

3. Unexpected

4. during a moonlit night.

No. 4 is a tall order, so you can scratch that one out. But these things perfectly describe my first kiss. Now, if only I can remember who my first kiss was. I can't even remember if it was a girl or a boy. *wink

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A Revelation

I have just been told that I am the worst thing that ever happened to someone - worse than the death of this person's parents.

OUCH. I still do not know what I did or why I am that infamous in this person's life. But I'd like to think of it this way - that I apparently mattered enough to wreck havoc in this person's life. I have never intentionally hurt anyone. Ironically, this person mattered to me a lot. I just didn't know I mattered just as much as well. If things were different. If life didn't happened the way it did, I'd probably be married to this person. Oh, well. C'est la vie. It's just probably sad that I missed out on something great because I was too busy looking at something that was worth shit. I wasted years on people who couldn't even give half of what I was being readily given.

So, to you, I am so sorry. I just didn't know.

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The Things a 4-Year-Old Should Know

Admit it, if you’re a mom – or a dad – you’ve probably compared your kid to somebody else’s kid. I should know, I’ve done the same thing hundreds of times! I, however, am not guilty of openly insulting or comparing my children with other people’s children. Since becoming a parent, I’ve noticed two things:
1. That parents want to believe that their children are little prodigies.
2. That parents often wonder what their child should know or should be able to do at certain ages.

I’m guilty of both.

I’ve realized, however, that there are really certain things that children, particularly preschoolers, should know. So, here is my list of things that a 4-year-old should know (my Paige is, after all, 4 years old):

First of all – and this is probably the most important thing in this list – your child should know that she is loved. Completely and unconditionally. No buts or what-ifs. No exceptions.

I've recently learned how important this is to my child.  Paige knows how happy I am every time she comes home with a star. I’ve learned, however, that a star didn’t matter much in comparison to my child’s happiness.

One afternoon, she came home, hiding her hand behind her.  She approached me with a sad look in her face. After I prompted her to tell me what’s wrong, she told me that she prayed dearly to Jesus, asking him to make her teacher stamped a star on her hand. And then she hesitantly showed me her hand and said sadly, “No star, mama.” I felt my heart breaking into tiny little pieces. I gave her a hug and told her that she’s a really smart and wonderful kid and that I love her no matter what.

It was an eye opener for me. I had a good talk with my husband after that because I was wondering where I draw the line. How do you encourage your child without causing her sorrow? And Erbe gave me a good answer, but then that’s another story.

Anyway, I continue with my list.

The second thing your child should know is this - how to keep herself safe. It is your duty to keep her safe, but there are basic rules that you need to teach your child. Never go with strangers anywhere. Never leave your side in public. Safety is a huge consideration especially when you have a little girl. Predators are everywhere! Boys are no longer safe as well.

She should know two important values: Respect and Honesty. Oh, children slip every now and then. Sometimes, your child would throw a tantrum. Sometimes, she’d lie – or god forbid if this happens to you – steal small potatoes from the supermarket (this happened to me - last week!), but as long as she’s going in the right direction, she’s going to be okay.

Your child should know that it’s okay to be silly. She should know that it’s okay to laugh and to use her imagination. Trees do not always need to have green leaves. Faces can be orange and violet. A bicycle can carry seven people. Let her have fun with her imagination. Her interests should be encouraged. She’ll soon learn the alphabet and numbers, but let her pretend to be a mermaid or a fairy for now. Let your child draw rocket ships, cars and airplanes if that’s what she wants.  
Finally, she should know that the world is wonderful and that it is magical. She should know that she is a very important piece of that magic. She should know that she’s so important that you would be willing to spend hours just playing with her or that she can come to you with her latest drawing of you (with an orange face, of course) and you'd be willing to give her a minute of your time.
Now, those things, my friends, are the things that a 4-year-old should know.

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