Thursday, May 29, 2008

hannah montana (in me)

The Hannah Montana concert movie opened while I was still in Manila. Maxine is an avid fan. She knows all the songs and watches the series like a religion almost. Lizzie Mcguire is now a remote memory I guess. So, I thought it would be great for the two of us to watch the movie. Quality mother-daughter time. I really had no idea about Hannah Montana other than the songs Maxine would belt out. I found out more as Nikki, upon seeing the show on Disney would point out repeatedly, "Ha-motana." Nearing the movie date, I was somewhat familiar already with the series and some of the songs.
It was a source of discomfiture to wear the 3D glasses. I had to keep on pinching the frame to my glasses for it to keep still. Maxine was doing the same. Regardless, I could see from the corner of my eye that she was starting to mouth the songs and even bouncing a bit on her chair. When she found how to balance the 3D glasses over her prescription lenses, she had her arms across her chest though still singing softly.
"Maxine, it is a concert. It is okay to sing along more loudly and feel the music. Stand up if you want to." A group of tweeners was already doing that further back.
She gives me a look. "Mama..." As if I told her a most perverse thing.
"I will stand up with you....heck..Best of both worlds..." I started to sing.
She shot back a disbelieving stare. "Mama, no."
Two years ago, or even a year ago, she would have. No cares. Just enjoying herself.
And then it hit me, mio, nagda-dalaga na ang anak ko.
She will be ten in a month's time.
Like any dutiful mother, I shut up.
As we got out of the theater, I started to sing again.."I've got nerve.."
Uh-oh. She was darting looks at me. Well, I found the Hannah Montana in me.

first day in school

For this summer, we had signed up Nikki in her first endeavor to the realm of the classroom. She just turned three in March and we thought it was time for some formal education. (Enough of Wowowee and the likes.) Okay, it was more of an art and read-along class. But still, she would mingle with kids her age and was introduced to the concept of "teacher" (read: someone who hopefully she would see as "the boss").
She had six other classmates. And on the first day, 4 of them were bawling even before teacher asked the parents / yayas to leave. I looked nervously at Nikki, afraid that she would start crying herself (the "hawa" effect). "Nikki, mama will go ha. Give me a kiss na." She didn't budge. Uh-oh. She sat in stony silence. I waited with bated breath. Nothing. "Mommy," it was the teacher,"sige na po." That was my cue. I gave Nikki a quick kiss and hug then went towards the door and out.
If I had a camera then, I would have gotten a nice shot of parents craning their necks and edging each other over the door's glass window. When I finally inched some space and peered through the glass, I saw Nikki looking around. She is looking for me. My poor baby. She is probably unsure and is scared (what with all the crying around her). I wanted to go in and hug her. As I was making my mind up on what to do, Nikki saw me. Still seated, she raised a thumbs up, winked and smiled at the same time. Whew. That's my girl!

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

he understands

Before coming back to Canada, I made sure to brief Lomi way ahead.
Once I was sure of my date of departure, I started to point to that day in the calendar and tell him, "Mama Donna will ride airplane. Go back to Canada, live in Canada." He would say nothing but just smile, even laugh a little. As if it was a private joke.
I woke up one morning about a week before I had to fly out. Lomi was sitting by my side. He had just woken up as well and was rubbing his eyes. In his fragmented speech, he said, "Mama Donna, finish (gesturing with his left thumb up and moving it from side to side) Canada. Live in Quijote." I was speechless. I gently said,"Lomi, sorry. Mama has to go eh." He makes a noise of irritation. "No, Papa Jun ride airplane. Go to Canada. Mama live in Quijote." I let it go. Yes I sure did. Here I am once more.


pom-poo-ter

This is not about one of the most natural bodily processes known to makind.

One morning as Nikki was waking from her slumber, she said in-between yawns, "Pom-poo-ter." As any mom, I was on the alert. Huh? Did she just say she was going to poo? I quickly lifted her and had her on the toilet seat in record time. She was still sleepy and slouched over my shoulder, "Mama, I want pom-poo-ter. No poo-poo." Aaahhh....com-pyoo-ter.

It amazes me how at the ripe age of three, she has learned the rudimentary know how in operating the PC. Nikki can deftly utilize the mouse and even the touchpad. Leave her be and she knows how to maneuver her way through her favorite programs and websites. Wow.

When I was three, hmm...I was...well, what was I doing? What I am pretty sure of is, I first touched a computer in junior year of high school and I felt awe. It was pretty daunting especially that I remember we were being taught binary stuff. Yikes! That seems quite a long time ago. The future is here.



Tuesday, May 20, 2008

mamang sorbetero

Picture a warm, lazy afternoon in Sampaloc, Manila. Our neighborhood boasts one of the more elevated and widened streets in the area. Houses are all lined up side by side in a row. It is an interesting study. The oldest house on the street was built in the post war days and bears an unmistakable dignity with its all wooden structure. A number of homes sprouted alongside thereafter. Some of the old time residents have moved elsewhere as now, new medium rise buildings have risen and houses the students of a nearby university. Always, companionable old neighbors chat about the weather and of course, now about the soaring prices of gasoline and rice (of all things!). College kids would distractedly be walking as they fiddle with cellphones to send SMS or completely oblivious as their ears are blasted with music from their iPods. From our second floor window, I spied a handful of girls enjoying a game of Chinese garter. I wonder how they could stand hopping and jumping about barefoot on the hot cement road. In stark contrast to my three year old who is enamored with her interactive Green Eggs and Ham CD on the desktop. The curtains were billowing out with the breeze from the two fans steadily directed towards Nikki.

Kling-kling-kling...I heard a soft tinkling. Nikki heard it too. "Ice cream!!," she let out a delighted squeal followed by, "Manong! Manong!". I saw the cart stop. Nikki hurriedly bounded down the staircase. I went in hot pursuit.

A small crowd had enveloped the ice cream cart. It was a welcome relief from the heat. At the gate, she yelled some more, "Manong! Manong!" I opened the latch and held Nikki's hand. Not to be thwarted, Nikki had squeezed her way to Manong's side. Manong is the same Manong Roland who has been doing the same route since Jun was about 8 years old. And now, Nikki is his "suki". It is their almost everyday ritual. I picked her up in my arms and she starts to point at the tall metal cans. To this day, it amazes me how the ice cream does not melt after being ferried around the whole day. "Look, Mama...Cheese! Chocolate!" Already, Manong had her "usual" five scoops of chocolate ice cream in a sugar cone before she said another word. She flashed him the sweetest smile. "Thank you!" and darted through the crowd back to our gate.

I handed him the two hundred peso bill I had in my pocket.
"Wala po ba kayong barya?"
"Ay wala po."
"Hamo na po muna, mamaya o..." and with a smile, "bukas na lang uli pag ikot ko."

After he serves his last customer, he pushes his cart and I hear the tinkling of his bell.

It felt good to be home.