Desperately Seeking Nanny

This goes out to all our dear friends who read this blog.

As most of you know, we've been yaya-less for almost a year now. (Note to my non-Pinoy friends, 'yaya' is what we call nannies in the Philippines.)While this deserves at least a couple of high fives, especially in a country where having 2 or 3 yayas trailing after a family and hefting shopping bags of different sizes are the norm, it can be quite nerve wracking at times. Especially when you're a work-at-home mommy.

We've tried out / auditioned 3 yayas or so but have had to let them go after the initial 2 week trial period for several reasons that read like a cross between Stephen King and a script out of Comedy Central:

1. They can't understand a word of English - not a good thing as David cannot speak Tagalog.

2. They don't care much for kids. One yaya preferred stick to housework (something unnecessary as David and I do this on our own), and more or less ignored Charly. You had to see this to believe it, but when Charly tried to be friendly or play with her, she would mostly just stare back. I know this sounds scary, but it's true. I always wondered if this particular yaya was quite right in the head.

3. They are tied to their cellphones. One would-be yaya accompanied us shopping in the houseware section and I barely turned my back for 5 minutes as I paid for some items and the next time I turned around, Charly was doing a pretty good imitation of Norman Bates and Jason, running around with a huge kitchen knife she had pulled out of the display. And where was the yaya? Why, she was standing around oblivious and texting away! Scary, but true. It would have served the yaya right if Charly had dropped the knife on her foot.

4. Another one did not use toilet paper (Now that's just wrong - if she can't clean her own butt properly, how will she clean Charly's? The word 'rotavirus' comes to mind).

5. Yet another one was afraid of heights. Not good, we live on the 18th floor. She also did not like airconditioning (Charly sweats a lot, more often than not she needs airconditioning, especially during the summer).

6. Our latest candidate went into Essences with us this weekend and instead of making sure Charly was entertained, David ended up carrying her and when we looked around for the yaya, she was at the Murad counter asking for a demo and catalogue of their skin care products. So much for keeping an eye on the baby. By the way, this yaya also asked us for an advance on her salary and took a day off within a week of joining us. Supposedly the advance was for her to be able to send money back to her parents. I'm not sure exactly how much of that advance she sent, but she did come back with a cellphone nicer than the one I am currently using.

The thing is, David and I are pretty hands-on parents. Definitely more hands-on than the average Pinoy family. Being yaya-less doesn't really faze us, nor does the fact that we don't have any maids. In fact, most of the problem probably is that these yayas and helpers are used to their employers being quite dependent on them. We have our own way of doing things and operate like a fairly well-oiled tag team when it comes to the baby. So we never just let the yaya 'do her thing'. After all, Charly is our one and only baby. Letting someone raise her in their own way is not an option. We are looking for someone proactive, who will take instructions well and work with us as a team in taking care of Charly. After all is said and done, we also want a bit of time to ourselves.

So. If any of you know of any yaya who fits that description, understands English, likes kids (and of course can take reasonably good care of them), is not glued to her cellphone, with fairly good hygiene (read: use toilet paper and take showers everyday) and are ok to live on the 18th floor, and likes dogs and is over 35 years of age (the ones younger tend to be attached to their cellphones or boyfriends or girl friends) or isn't a shopaholic who will ditch the kid the minute she enters the mall...please, please let us know!

We're not looking for Mary Poppins or Nanny McPhee. Just their distant cousins.

An Impromptu Love Letter

Charly has a habit of knocking on the door to our room, closing it behind her, saying "oh, hi guys". Most times, she does this just to make sure that mom and dad are safely home, then she goes back to her room or goes about her own business playing elsewhere in the apartment.

Sometime last week, David and I left to do some food shopping and left our place while Charly was asleep. When she woke up, she tried to check up on us and was incredibly distraught to discover that the door to our room had been locked.

My mom, who stayed behind with her, sent me frantic SMS messages that Charly was hysterically banging on the door. For some reason, she was convinced that we were in there and were sick or something. Ever the quick-thinking and improvisational grandma, my mom quickly scribbled a short note that read:

Dear CHARLY (her name in bold letters since she can recognize how it's spelled),

We went to the bookstore to pick up some books for you. We will be back in awhile.

Love, Mom and Dad

She read the letter to Charly, who promptly brightened up and kissed the letter. She clutched it in her hand and when we came back home, she had fallen asleep and was still holding the letter some 2-3 hours later.

Something about seeing her asleep with the letter clutched in her chubby fist just made a little 'ping' at my heart.

Coming from a week where David and I were frazzled with errands, chores, and keeping up with the baby, this took all the fatigue away.

The universe is a wonderful thing. Just when you feel rundown, it sends you a little chuck to the chin. Almost like a yo, mama, chin up.

Take my word on this, parenthood may have its trials and tears, but nothing beats being a mommy or daddy when it comes to having surprisingly little feel-good blessings come beaming down your way, uncalled for.

'Pasalubong'

The ubiquitous Baguio Walis.

Can anyone tell me why they remain to be the most hardy and effective of all? Do the Baguio folk put some secret material in them? Anyone? Because to this day whenever I go up to Baguio, without fail, someone asks for these brooms as 'pasalubong'.

David, being American, had to be educated on the concept of 'pasalubong' - the sweet, but mostly bothersome, Pinoy tradition of bringing a little something for everyone in the home or office when coming back from an out of country or out of town trip. He is still trying to come to terms (or should I say, grips) with it. I see his point though. Especially in the case of the aforementioned brooms. I'm pretty sure in most Western cultures, the idea of someone bringing back a broom as a present from a relative coming in from out of town would be considered odd. I mean, snowglobes, yes. Mugs and t-shirts too. And those stickers that clutter up your fridge.

But brooms?

Only in the Philippines.

i heart lomo

I love Lomo cameras.

Yes, they are just about the biggest marketing gimmick on earth (major snaps to the lomographic society for that). But in my opinion, anything that brings film photography back to life is a good thing. Call it a marketer's karma, but I've fallen head over heels, hook, line, and sinker, absolutely in love with these little plastic lo-fi wonders!

In this age of digital cameras where just about anything can be re-touched and edited with the push of a button, these lomo cameras are refreshingly unpredictable. And incredibly human.

Just like Forrest Gump's box of chocolates, you literally never know what you're gonna get when you pick up your pictures from the film lab.

It's liberating, in a way. You can just shoot, shoot, and shoot. Without seeing the images right away the way you would with a digital camera, you feel freer to swing around and shoot away. Little accidents like double exposures show life as you're living it.

The cameras may be clunky and I may get funny looks when I whip out my Fisheye2 or Holga or the funny little Oktomat that doesn't even have a proper viewfinder and operates without batteries, but they take quirky photos that remind me of a time gone by.

And I really do like it that way.

My Entourage

When I was single and used to wake up in the middle of the night - sometimes peckish for a midnight snack, other times just because I couldn't go back to sleep - I would often feel spooked at being alone in the dark.

These days, it doesn't happen anymore.

When I stand up and head for the bathroom or kitchen in the middle of the night, I usually hear Pepe and Riggs shuffling and shifting. Pepe follows me wherever I am headed. Riggs keeps an eye open so he doesn't miss anything. Most times, I have not even finished making the midnight peanut butter and jelly sandwich and I see Charly's little head pop out of the room, calling me "Mom, please come back".

I settle back into bed and sometimes find my whole troop awake, including the hubby.

Sometimes, we all fall back to sleep right away. And sometimes, it turns into an impromptu little family gathering.

Come to think of it, I haven't felt spooked in a long time.

Aah. The little blessings of having your own family.

Olympic Dreams

Charly is at that age where she likes to mimick grown up things. Sometimes she plays 'doctor' to Pepe and Riggs with a plastic stethoscope or plays pretend 'chef' while I cook.

But she has never actually said "I want to be just like that".

Today, David noticed her glued to the TV watching the Olympic games. She was avidly observing Michael Phelps. After seeing him swim, she turned to say "I want to learn to swim just like that, dad".

"I'm going to swim just like that".

And we had never even told her who Michael Phelps was.

The kid sure has an eye for talent.

Let Me Count The Ways

How Do I Love My Blog, Let Me Count The Ways:

1. It's a good way to document all those little thoughts floating around my head. You see, my mind is a very interesting place (you should come by and visit some time!).

2. It's a GREAT way to document Charly's little and not so little to GINORMOUS milestones. Without me having to bore anyone to tears (hey, if you're not interested, you don't need to hear all about it.)

3. First time moms are notorious for acting like the first time their baby did something was the first time ANY baby ever did that thing. Ditto for new wives. I love this blog for letting me regale its pages with all my newfound awe on all things wife and mommy related (and other things too!).

4. It gets a little crazy adjusting to being a wife and mommy and living with a toddler and two crazy dogs. This blog is pure therapy.

5. Our world changes so fast that I want to be able to paint a picture for Chary of the good, and yes even the not-so-good things, that were happening in the world as she grew up.

6. I SUCK at writing things down in her baby book. This is a much better way to keep things down.

7. I get cute little comments from my friends and it gives me a warm feeling that they are somehow connected to me through this fascinating journey.

Mostly, it's made me notice the little moments more. Moments that, were it not for this blog waiting for me at home, I may have not been sensitive enough to catch. But that little bit of pressure (in the nicest way possible) of wanting to come back and write and share and document make me just a bit more aware of things. It's so easy to get caught up in the routine of work, household chores, managing the baby that we sometimes forget to see the blessings, the good stuff, the funny side of what's right in front of us. On my good days, I manage to do this on my own, especially with the hubby's help. On not-so-good days, I am glad that this blog is here, waiting for me to fill it with good things that happened. And helping me always see that there is a good (if not funny) side to most things that happen in life.

I love you, my blog.

We're (not really) All in This Together

More than the refrain from the High School Musical song that every 'tween knows the dance steps to, "we're all in this together" is the underlying message throughout all Olympic games, past and present.

For the 2008 games, "One world, One Dream" is the motto plastered all over China. A phrase that is sadly beginning to crystalize into an oxymoron.

The games hadn't even begun and US speedskating champ, Joey Cheek, already had his visa revoked. With no explanations.

What is even more bothersome is that the U.S. Olympic Committee did not speak up on his behalf.

Could the fact that Chicago is bidding for 2016 have anything to do with this? It's a case of governments, politicians wanting to look good and currying favor from each other. You scratch my back, I'l scratch yours.

It also shows an overwhelming paranoia on the powers that be. Joey Cheek may have organized Team Dafur, but its members are far more influential than the speedskating champ. Is George Clooney attending the Olympic games? Will his visa be revoked too? I imagine that he would draw more media attention rallying for its cause, as he has been known to support in the past than Joey Cheek.

The gods of Mount Olympus must be shaking their heads to see what a muddled up political circus the Olympic Games have become.

It's sad to know that, even for a short while, the countries of this world cannot even really come together as one, putting differences aside.

"One World, One Dream".  So far, it's only just that. A dream.

Sigh.

Before Everything Else...

...there was us.

I love this picture of David and me. Much as we love Charly and the boys, it reminds me that before there was Pepe, before Riggs, and yes way before Charly - there was us.

And 'we' are and should always be each other's number one priority. So long as we're good, everyone else is good :)

Sometimes it's easy to forget that with all the craziness of raising a family and all the adjustments and life changes newlyweds and new parents go through.

But I only have to look at this picture and go back to that happy, sunny day in Cambodia and feel all over again blessed to be married to my best friend. My favorite travel buddy, where even roach infested hotels and running out of gas on a road trip become a reason to laugh (ok, a bit of a stretch, but yes we still laugh about it to this day). Because we can explore strange cities on foot, discovering places that have become special to us, and sharing the same level of excitement finding little 'treasures' in flea markets and off-the-beaten-path stores. My other half whom I need to consult before I feel good about any significant purchase. Who lugged a 6 foot canvass painting all the way from Chatuchak back to Manila (and it is now the envy of all our friends).The guy who turned into Mr. Mom faster than I did. Who loves bookstores just as much as I do, and sniffs the pages of new books and balikbayan boxes as avidly as I do. Who enjoys burning our mouths silly with the spiciest Indian and Thai dishes. And loves experimenting with cooking as much as I do. Who cleans out and organizes my bags despite my many protests. And a million reasons more.

Truly a picture worth a thousand memories, with the promise of more to come.

'Our Song'

I still remember those first few nights when we first brought Charly home from the hospital as a newborn. David took over the night shift like a pro, rocking Charly to sleep and changing her. His song repertoire (an interesting choice ranging from" The Theme from the Greatest American Hero" to the "Mighty Quinn" to "Maniac" from Flashdance which he would sing while changing Charly's nappies and moving her chubby legs up and down in an imitation of Jennifer Beals' leg-warmer clad legs dancing) was definitely more interesting than mine. I mostly drew a blank.

One night, when David was too exhausted to get up and Charly woke up, I couldn't call to mind the lyrics of any infant-appropriate songs. So I winged it. I made up a song that began "You are my bear, my baby bear, my little little baby bear...".

For some reason, it stuck. Everytime I was sleep-deprived and Charly was inconsolable, out popped that song.

These days, thanks to watching Barney and Hi-Five, I have a much wider repertoire of children's songs. But for some reason, whenever Charly is sick or having a nightmare, out pops that little song.

Earlier today when I was sick in bed, Charly woke me up "my baby bear, my little little baby bear..."

She was singing me 'our song' to make me feel better.

Improv Lessons

Scene One

Me (in a singsong voice): It's time to eat!

Charly (predictably): NO!

Me (dangling some noodles from a fork and singing and talking to the noodles): Hi, hello, my name is noodle, would you like to sit and talk today?

Charly (moving forward with a smile and singing too): Hewooo, noodle! Me want some noodles! Hi, hewoo, my name is Charly, would you like to be my friend?

Me (bringing the noodles close to Charly's mouth): Hello, Charly!

Charly (opens mouth wide and munches on noodles): Thank you mom, more noodles pleeeaaaasssseee!

Scene Two

David: It's time for bathie!

Charly: NO!

David: Look, look, the Duckie is swimming in bubbles with Froggie.

Charly: Want to see the duck, the duck...old macdonald had a farm ei-ei-yooowww and on his farm he had a duck!

And in she goes to the tub. The splashing sound of success.

In the immortal words of the Little Einsteins: "mission completion". The hubby and I resist giving each other a high five.

Now who says only actors are good at improvisation?

Fish Spa?!

While in Singapore last year, I saw fish in an outdoor tank and some women dipping their hands in it. Because I was in a rush, I didn't even realize it was what is now known as a 'fish spa'.

I do remember thinking, those poor fish. Since the hubby is a fish lover, I know that fish can be highly sensitive and unnecessary shaking around of their environment can cause stress ( anyone remember "Finding Nemo"?).

Little did I know that those women were literally feeding the fish out of their own hands (well, the skin off their hands anyway).

And I thought I'd seen it all. Apparently these are doctor fish, types of fish that eat off the dead skin and leave your hands and feet (I certainly hope that's all the skin they are targetting) nice and smooth. If you don't know what I mean by now, google it.

While I admit to some curiosity about 'fish spas', I'm not sure I want a living thing eating away at any part of me (dead skin or not). Doesn't that sound a bit like what piranhas do? I know the fish are supposed to want to eat only the flaking, dead skin, but what if one of them decides they like it a little too much and decide to not just stop at the appetizer but go for the full meal?

On a more rational level, wouldn't scouring dead skin, calluses, etc have the same effect? Why have fish do what a few scrapes of Dr. Scholl's filing block can do for you? Isn't that supposed to be bad and encourage more growth of calluses?

What people will do to make a new spin on an old trick. Or more to the point, what some people will be willing to experiment on for the sake of beauty.