what's up with me?

You'd think I would have turned into a couch potato by now, having been out of the work force for nearly two months. Not quite. Daytime TV is a must only to check the weather forecast (and you'd have to do that more than once if you live in Auckland where the 4 seasons pass within 24 hours). I still wake up at 6ish. I may no longer have to get ready for work but I still have to get Cerise ready for school. Three days a week on average, I take Cerise to school and pick her up at 3pm. Picking her up from school means I'd have to take her straight to swimming lessons on Mondays, piano lessons on Tuesdays and art school on Thursdays. The time in between is spent on household chores and errands (shopping and coffee in between) I consider myself lucky if I manage to blog and email... even luckier if I catch the latest celebrity scoop from E channel and indulge myself in Discovery Channel. Then there's the school assembly every second Friday. The recent Book Week even had me volunteering for the Book Fair on three occasions! On days I don't play the "soccer mom" role, I attend to MORE household chores and MORE errands and when my stars bring me luck, squeeze in an appointment for a haircut, hair colour, acrylics or lunch with friends. I had expected to be on top of things by now which would mean that I would have already organized 4 years worth of photos and videos; sorted out the clutter in the garage (stuff to donate, stuff to sell, stuff to keep, stuff to take out and use); completed my spring cleaning (in the middle of autumn); revisited our DVD inventory; neatly filed important papers; launched a business; and accepted a new job. Sadly, no ticks for any of these yet.

I have decided to give MBA a miss for now. The next intake is in June giving me very little time to think it through and work on the requirements for application. I hope to commit myself to it sometime next year.

In the meantime, I am, ever so slowly, trying to put up a business. It's nothing big, nothing groundbreaking... nothing happening at this stage even so don't hold your breath for it. More on this if and when it does take off.

Two weeks ago I updated my CV and last week, sent it to two recruitment agencies and three prospective employers even though they didn't have vacancies. I've started "looking at" job ads, but not necessarily hunting for a job. I'm just really wallowing in these resurrected full time roles of mother and wife I may have to repel the itch to go back to work for a while longer.

Oh and I'm taking swimming lessons! And baked my first pudding last weekend!

Mama

The following was emailed to me a long time ago and had been in my drafts folder all this time. I thought now would be a good time to post it as Mother's Day has just gone past and my mother's birthday is coming up. Being a mother myself and a daughter, I was moved deeply upon reading it.

Mama and I no longer see each other everyday like we did when I was growing up. I terribly miss her although she probably doesn't realize that. Ours is not a touchy-feely family. Our "I love yous" and "I miss yous" are coated with the simplest of presents and with casual conversations about everything from the most trivial to the most intimate. It is when we "gossip", mostly about our own lives, (honestly!) and when we inject comedy into our talkfests that we celebrate our special bond which has become more apparent to me now that we're apart. Rewind to the years when I was single, working, living my life in Manila... I wasn't quick to understand or even recognize that extraordinary connection my mother and I had. Fast forward to 1999 when I found myself with a man I barely knew, living in a foreign country and then fell pregnant in 2000... the child in me cried out for my Mama. Giving birth to Cerise and raising her... I now find myself saying "Ah! So THAT'S how much Mama loves me!" ... or "I can see now how proud Mama was when I did well and how that didn't change one bit when I didn't do as well." ... or "That's how much Mama worried about me???!!! ... or "I feel sorry for Mama as I'm sure she misses me a lot". I remember shortly after I left the Philippines, my friend was telling me how she called Mama to check on her and Mama said (tears in her eyes) she could still smell my perfume around the house, especially in my bedroom which she found so hard to ignore so that she missed me so much. How silly of me to dismiss that as Mama being overly dramatic when part of the joy of doing my laundry now is smelling Cerise's dirty clothes so that even though she's at school, it feels like she's with me but at the same time it makes me want for her to come home soon! Most times, I am humbled and I think to myself "Mama had sacrificed and done so much more for me than I could ever do for Cerise.", considering the circumstances she was in raising three girls compared to my own. I'm only in my 6th year of motherhood and already, revelations about my mother's greatness are countless. And I look forward to more in the years to come. What is the point of being a mother if I can't appreciate how amazingly well my own mother has responded to her calling? In my younger years, I used to plan I'd do a lot to repay Mama. But now I know that I can never do enough to pay her back... and that it was never about paying her back... I am in fact to pay it forward by being the best mother I can ever be to my own child.

BEING A MOTHER
We are sitting at lunch when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of "starting a family." "We're taking a survey," she says, half-joking. "Do you think I should have a baby?" "It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral.
"I know," she says, "no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations...."
But that is not what I meant at all.
I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes. I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but that becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable.
I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her. That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse
than watching your child die.
I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to primitive level of a bear protecting her cub.
That an urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a soufflé or her best crystal without a moment's hesitation. I feel I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood.
She might arrange for child care but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of her discipline to keep her from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right.
I want my daughter to know that everyday decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that rest-room.
However she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother. Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself. That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give it up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years - not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs.
I want her to know that a Cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor. My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks..
I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child. I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic.
I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving. I hope she will understand why I can think rationally about most issues, but become temporarily insane when I discuss the threat of nuclear war to my children's future.
I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike. I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or a cat for the first time. I want her to taste the joy that is so real, it actually hurts.
My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have
formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it," I finally say.
Then I reach across the table, squeeze my daughter's hand and offer a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all of the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings.
This blessed gift from God!
Being a Mother.

portfolio

Just realised I've been blogging for more than a year now! Nice to know. Disappointing though to discover a whole collection of drafts and old photos that didn't make it to this journal in time, either for lack of time or enthusiasm. Is it just me or is there a bug common to bloggers that sucks out your articulacy and drive to litter your diary with whatever you're burning to say and keep a record of just when you finally have all the time in the world? Even more irritating is that it is when I'm occupied with more pressing matters that I'm oozing with blog obsession and my mind incessantly emits sentiments that sadly never travel from the brain and heart thru to my fingers and on to the keyboard.

Well, better late than never. Some old images here from last year's photoshoot for the community newspaper, The Aucklander. I do have a post about that but these photos didn't make it to the paper. I really love and treasure these so I just had to post them.

My favourite!!!!

speaking of mother's day...

This is the one day in the year that I truly feel privileged. It used to be my birthday but now it is mother's day because it reminds me of how lucky I am to hold a licence to motherhood. I am in fact humbled by it... to be designated the task of raising a child is such an honour. To experience it with a husband as loving and generous and responsible as mine, it is a gift. I don't buy the lotto religiously but on the rare occasion that I do, I make a wish I'd win the jackpot. Obviously, that hasn't materialized yet but it doesn't matter because I know I've already hit the jackpot the minute I conceived Cerise. Motherhood... parenthood is hard work. It can be overwhelming. From the outside looking in, some people tend to feel sorry or think SHOULD feel sorry for mothers especially when the stress is showing. But if I can be totally honest, the rewards I reap outweigh the exhaustion from hectic schedules; the constant picking up after my daughter; the high blood pressure from losing my temper; the missing out on a more active ME time or a few socials with single friends. I don't think I can ever accurately describe the joy of watching Cerise grow; knowing her inside out; celebrating her strenghts and understanding her vulnerability; collecting anecdotes of Cerise's wit and humour, I can make a fortune by sending them to Reader's Digest's "Laughter is the Best Medicine". Nor are there words to describe the kind of peace I get from that mother-and-child bond and unconditional love that I've only come to comprehend the moment I met Cerise; that is as strong when we're together as when we're apart. Some say "I don't know how she does it" making us, mothers, appear to be heroes. But I'm no hero. How do I do it? How do I get weary and worn out or angry and frustrated then let some minutes pass or wake up the next day and happily choose to be a mother all over again? It is only with THAT joy, peace, love and the better understanding of myself and of what's most important in life through the teachings of motherhood that I do it... that I CAN do it. Without these rewards, it is impossible. And contrary to what some people might think, I say motherhood is the key to good health and well-being. Highly recommended.

To Cerise and muffin, thank you for ... YOU... and the breakfast and the dinner and the card and the Bluetooth... The present and special treatment definitely put the icing on the cake!

e- c(h)o - py

Special occasions always call for a ritual that has become familiar to Cerise - ringing my family in Manila.
She knows she gets to talk to three people one by one - Papa (my father and her most favourite), Popo (my mother) and Auntie Carla (my younger sister) for an hour, more or less.
Now you know how sometimes when you're on an overseas call and the sound or voice transmission is not so great so that you hear your own echo? Everytime you speak, you hear yourself back and it 's almost like having a conference call... or talking to yourself?
That's exactly what happened yesterday when we rang to greet grandma a happy mother's day. The terrible echo was there. But I ignored it and didn't really think much of it. Sometimes I kinda enjoy hearing my voice, to be honest. A few minutes into our conversation, I passed the phone to Cerise and watched her indulged herself and happily caught up with them; saying I love yous and I miss yous, and inviting them over to New Zealand. When I thought that she'd said enough, I asked for the phone back. She quickly said her goodbyes to my family but handed the phone to me with an impatient gesture and said vehemently, "Somebody's copying me!"
I laughed heartily but the look on her face told me she did not find that funny at all. Two things I should warn you about 5 year olds... they always want to be first... and they do not want to be copied.
Oh, she's priceless!

good riddance

Cath, Laura, Roi, Natalie and I were the ladies who'd worked together at the Herald ("work smart, play hard") and bonded well. So much so that we continue to keep in touch and maintain the friendship despite the separation. First it was Natalie who left to pursue a more arduous job I'd say, seeing how we can never schedule a 6pm dinner because she spends that time of the night with her boss. But we're thrilled that if she isn't spending time with her boss or us, she is with the former work colleague turned fiance! Then Cath left to make her day more interesting by working and studying part time but soon she is to become a full time mum! Now THAT ought to be really interesting. Laura left to travel around Asia and then settle back in Sydney that is home to her... and now her boyfriend too! Roi resigned early this year to immerse herself in her Maori heritage and venture into a job that only spells fun. That made me the last man standing... which was fine by me but also made me think... eveyone's moved on and somehow it didn't feel right. I honestly, quietly found that troubling... a feeling I dismissed as irrational and totally childish. Then the "redundancy" happened... so abruptly that I actually left one week shy of Roi's last day. How about that?! Clearly, the end of an era was inescapable. While these 4 girls are special to me, I did leave behind equally special people (some of whom are not in the photos below) and a few more promising friendships that I will continue to nurture. I gotta say... I had a blast at the Herald. But the last few months were proving to be less and less blissful and I truly believe that God pulled me out of there before I reached the point of exasperation.

Over and out.

pictures taken on my last day....

with Caitlin (standing) and Roi (sitting down, obviously)

mucking around

with Clay

with Rachael

with Matt and Roi

with Sayaka

with preggy Cath and Roi

breakaway

Do you daydream and ask yourselves random questions like... what if I win the lotto? What if I had triplets? What would it be like to be a celebrity? And then there are the other what ifs loitering in your head but you don't dare ask yourselves because the mere thought of them frightens you to the core. But there are those what ifs that don't even cross your mind at all, no matter how imaginative you think you are, just because they simply never ever cross your mind.

To me, it was being made redundant. When it did happen in April, I was shocked that it happened and even more shocked to realize that I never actually contemplated for something like this to happen...to me... at a time when I was going from strength to strength. I deliberately entertain unhealthy and depressing thoughts in my head when I feel like being sad (weird huh?) but redundancy is not on the menu. Sure I know the word. Sure I've seen it happen to other people. But I guess I subconsciously and confidently assumed it was simply impossible so why even think about it. Naive you say? Nah, more like arrogance. Sad but true that when things keep happening in my terms, there is that tendency to believe I ain't vulnerable. It was a truly humbling experience.

Redundancy is a dismissal of an employee from work for being no longer necessary. Uhuh. I sort of knew that. But let me check that out again.. work no longer necessary. Then how come only one work day after I left the building, someone else was sitting at my desk, managing the same accounts and doing exactly the same job???? Oh but she does have a slightly altered job TITLE, not to mention that she knows the manager personally as rumour has it. So I guess that makes hers a "new role" that justifies the supposed team "restructuring" that inevitably "dissolved" my role. Could it be that this was in fact not a redundancy but getting rid of an employee in a legal fashion? Office politics right there... in my face!

And what about that disturbing feeling from the moment I met the new manager back in November... that she didn't seem to like me, or she didn't approve of me or that she looked down on me. There was something about her behaviour towards me combined with my exclusion from most meetings, contract negotiations and even social events with MY clients. Hmmm... come to think of it, I really should have seen it coming. But I didn't. At least I didn't think someone was capable of manipulating systems in this manner... and actually get away with it.

Sure I could have sued them, taken them to courts, fought to keep my post as several people have suggested. But is this job the be all and end all for me? No. Do I really want to keep this job and work for someone who clearly has a problem with my age (I bet she thought I was 16 or 19 tops) and race, dare I say it? No. Is it worth the the time, energy, money, the hassle of it all? No. I just couldn't be bothered. Motherhood has taught me to pick my battles... and this is not one of them. And that is why I left with as much grace as I could muster and with as much money as I could possibly get.

I had placed a wrong stigma to redundancy, all due to ignorance... that when it happens to you it could only mean that you're not important, not needed. And for someone who've studied and worked hard for years to become an essential part of something, I could have easily allowed this redundancy to rock the foundations of my world and crush me to pieces. But I now understand, first and foremost that redundancy is about the role and not about the person and not about his or her performance. And being the person who always sees the glass half full that I am, I welcomed the change in my circumstances. Mind you, I did put a deadline on myself when I started at the Herald that by my 3rd year, I ought to be out and working for another company. I was already 6 months overdue. And for the first time in my life, I was actually working solely for the money. Never a good feeling. So I guess it was about time I left.

I don't know whether or not to take comfort in knowing that there really was nothing to restructure and the whole incident wasn't about redundancy but simply an unfortunate case of running into a new senior personnel who for reasons unclear didn't like me (not much I can do about that) and wanted me out but couldn't really fire me because I was "doing an excellent job and always had an impeccable work ethic", if I may quote one of my stunned clients, so I had to be kicked out via a scheme that successfully covers her ass. Would it have been more bearable if this was a true and genuine lay off?

Whatever the case may be, I found it was bearable and still is. I've heard comments that because I looked surprisingly and even suspiciously okay at the time, I could possibly be in denial and that a few weeks or months down the road, I would find myself crying and depressed. It is, I was told, part of the grieving process. Four weeks on and none of those has happened yet. Am I delayed in starting the grieving process? But is there a reason for me to grieve in the first place? When I think about an old friend who was on the verge of losing his wife to a disease, my own setback shrinks into this miniscule misfortune I'm too embarrassed to shed any more tears over it. When I think about how this break has allowed me to spend more QUALITY time with Cerise to which she is responding so well, I ask what is there to grieve for except for the fact that I never realized how much Cerise and I have missed out just because mummy was working in the last 4 years? When I think about how this doesn't necessarily impact us financially, I am relieved and have a peace of mind. When I think about how I am now exploring other possibilities in my life, putting the ingredients together, turning on the heat and bringing the pot to boiling point, there really is no time to grieve. When I think about how the turn of events revealed what lies beneath the work colleagues I saw and dealt with everyday; proved who my real friends are; showed me how I am blessed with a husband who incredibly picks me up from the pit just by talking for hours on end... I can only be grateful.

The press release is that our team had to be restructured, making my role a surplus to the company's requirements so that a redundancy had eventuated. But we all know there is always the other side of the story; deleted scenes from the movie; classified files of an unsolved mystery; secrets that are not so secret.

O

O for Overdue posts...

O for Oprah. Believe it or not, it's taken my sister's news that she's finally received tickets to the Oprah Winfrey Show to make me end my long abstention from blogging. I am too excited and jealous I can't contain it so I need to write.

It is a common dream of my sister and mine to be a member of Oprah's studio audience. As a matter of fact, my sister applied for tickets (tickets are free and in demand as you can imagine) a few months before I travelled to Chicago in the hopes that we would secure access to the show during my holiday there. But the much anticipated invition did not come... until today... two years since the application. Just like applying for a residency in another country! Sister and I have been texting each other ferociously, telling each other how we feel and what we think about this whole drama that's unfolding. She says she's still shaking from excitement and disbelief! Funny. I am not one who gets envious but this I gotta admit, I am green with envy...figuratively and literally as I am at present wearing a grass green top... the timing couldn't have been more perfect. Last night, husband asked me what I want for mother's day. Jokingly... half jokingly, I said... nothing... nothing cheap. Hehehe. But really, there's nothing I am itching to have right now. That sounds disturbing for anyone who really knows me. But I'm thinking that the Oprah Show is a lovely mother's day present for my sister, I'm wishing I could fly there now and watch the show with her. Now THAT would be a lovely mother's day present for me. But I guess I will have to make do with my sister's detailed account of her experience at Harpo Studio and hopefully watch the show on TV and be able to pick out my sister from the audience.

... now off to visit the oprah website and apply for those tickets... seriously!