War Makes Me Sad

So it's 2am and I can't put myself to sleep despite getting migraine attacks in the afternoon for always being up late. It's been like this for a week now. If you're in the same loop as I am in social media and current events, you know what I am talking about. Yes. It's the Mamasapano clash and the 44 fallen heroes. I do not personally know any of them (my husband and friends do) but I cry like I'm part of the bereaved family every time I see news (on TV and Facebook) about the incident. It saddens me, not just because I am a wife of a soldier or because my friends know some of the men that died, but because I am a Filipino.

I am mad, too. As what I have told my husband over the phone just a few hours earlier, this is my first time after such a long time (ex-PGMA regime) to feel this abhorrence towards the country's leader. I am trying my best to refrain from posting on Facebook because I know well that it's just Facebook. My words, may it mean so deep and true, will remain words. I used to say that I dislike the way the netizens blame the government for all the problems the country faces. However, this time, I loathe him too much I wished for him to die. I wish that some crazy and grieving friends of the fallen 44 will plan to assassinate him. But then again, another jerk will replace him if that happens. And wishing ill for someone, no matter how bad he is, does not heal wounds, does not pacify chaos. It only makes evil rejoice. So I shunned the thoughts and while so, my 6-year-old came to me and asked why I was crying. 

Stupidity hits or perhaps my tears clouded my motherhood brain cells, I told her the truth. She said "awww" as if she was watching a telenovela. She asked why it happened and told her about her book, War Makes Me Sad. I retold what it said there: that Filipinos are killing each other. For two consecutive nights, she had terrible dreams. She was always crying and calling her father. It only dawned on me that she, too was greatly affected for what happened when she said "I hope it won't happen to Tatay." It sent shivers all over my body. I felt so guilty for telling her the truth and allowing her to watch the daily evening news with me.

We stopped doing so and went back to Phineas and Ferb. At least all things there, be it crazy and sometimes evil (hello, Doofenshmirtz) are all make-believe. I watched the necrological services coverage, though while she was in school earlier yesterday. And again, the president's obvious lack of empathy disappointed me. I can't itemized his wrongdoings here anymore to avoid further discussion but him being fashionably late made me draw one general conclusion — he is an asshole. No wonder no woman lasted. 

OK. I will spare you from my angst.

Project House

When Papa was still alive, he used to drive us around Xavierville Avenue going home. During the early 90s, the houses on that road were one of the bests, at least for us siblings. We would be pointing to houses we liked most. “That’s mine”, “oh, yan naman sa akin ha”, “ang gandaaaaa” — these were the usual dialogues of the day-dreaming Redrico kids. Fast forward to now — Papa’s in heaven, we’re all grown up, three of us have our own families and still, we haven’t built those houses like that of Xavierville’s.

But we didn’t stop dreaming.

Our Royal Dwelling

Welcome to my house! I know how weird it is to see a dusty electric fan, unorganized shelf and the word royal all in one post. Allow me to explain. Whenever I use royal on my blog or social media accounts, please don't think of crowns, castle and Kate Middleton. Remember that I always pair it with domesticity, home or kitchen? You see, if not all, most people see housewives as unglamorous or plain. Yup, we can be that and more. What, with all the house chores and messy kids that we have to mind and only 24 hours in a day, who has time to apply lipstick at least? That's why I use that word whenever I post everything about my life at home as a wife and mom. It's my way of making my ordinary life extraordinary. 

Wait, though.

Making Bliss and Lovin' It

Have you been in that happiness-beyond-measure moment that you always don't want to end? We call that bliss, right? Guess what? We can choose to stay in that moment, despite life's most challenging situations. It's not easy, to be honest. Sometimes, all you want to do is to rant away and curse and just let your inner Hulk swallow you whole. I was that and more before I met Martine, who we all used to call the Dainty Mom. Yeah, yeah. If you are a reader since I started blogging, you know who she is in my life. She is one of those few, who encouraged me in her own little ways, and unbeknownst to her, how to follow my bliss. When I attended her workshop a year ago, I said that I'm gonna blog my best that year. I did! When she picked me to be on her team of blissmakers, I just didn't contribute articles — I followed and lived my bliss — I started Bebeng's Kitchen on July, joined the WAH Expo on October, and was invited to attend the Blissmakerie. In Martine's words, "it is an event that is a culmination of my lessons this year as I’ve been cultivating the community here at MakeitBlissful.com."

New Year's Afternoon at Children's Island

When I wrote about our Hundred Islands trip two summers ago, I was aware that the story was OK but the photos aren't. So I made a mental note of taking better snaps the next time we go there. It was the New Year's afternoon when Cpt R and I decided (more on him granting my request) to give the islands a second chance. 'Cause like what I said, "I think if there were less people, the trip was close to perfection." Well, we chose Children's Island, smaller than where we stayed at the first time we went there, just so we'd reach that less-people-more-bliss beach vibe. It's a holiday and most vacationers think pretty a lot like we do so the island huts were still mostly occupied. I'm fine with having crowds in beaches, it's the feels I'm really after. I'm glad that the people I see this time were dressed (or not) more appropriately. Rash guards, swimsuits, board shorts, those stuff. Yup, not a salmon short pants with side pockets that made an appearance on my previous post, haha! It was half a day of holiday leftovers, snorkeling, laughter, getting a perfect tan and lovin' it. xx