Size Big.

Jose.  Big heart. Very sensitive. Feels his music and rhthym with his heart. Feels his food too with all his heart. Loves Sunday takuyaki balls. And now cheese ice cream.  

5 things of wonder

I started a homemade workshop for my gremlins yesterday. Upon waking up, they will be asked to notice at the most 5 things that catch their attention.

I started with Jose,5 yesterday. We sat down by the pond before 6 am. We listened to the birds and just simply talked. Then i handed him my phone and told him to take a photo of 5 things that he finds beautiful or interesting.

  

Today, i asked Jacob, 7 to do the same thing. Here are his photos. 

They took more than 5 photos- meaning that they saw more than 5 things of wonder.  

I am amazed by what they have inside of them. More to come...

Catching Ziva

Last night's guest of honor was Funny girl Ziva with her Ate Sofia who is a regular. The 3J's are mainstays. 

I lured her with stories that did not make sense but children can always make sense out of our nonsense! 

So my effort for the night was a big seal of approval from a very discriminating little person. She fell asleep figuring out my stories. Sweet dreams I guess. 

She woke up as bright as the morning sun.

growing like the giant beanstalk

Sunlight and lots of love  make a child grow. Tough love does the trick too. Balancing the brain, body, heart and soul is a holistic approach to raising a spiritual and authentic child.

And yes, they need a strong family affinity but one that does not suffocate and inhibit a sense of self. 

First thing I see

The cat wakes me up. Here is what i see when i open my eyes. The boys snuggled close  to each other breathing each other's breath. If they only know.

The Middle Child

What mystery envelops a middle child?
Is he really more complicated than the first and the third?
Born after the first child who became the first experimental baboon to parents who knew little,
the second one was born with a degree of knowledge and experience which the eldest child provided these anxious beginners.

Then why the supposed syndrome?
This child of woe and complication was raised by parents who knew more, whose mastery of the craft of parenting has afforded them less sweaty palms and armpits.
Then why does this child of complexity raise such challenge and concern?

This child is between two siblings.  One taught him the ways while the third showed him how he is stronger and wiser.

He is not ever taken for granted.  He cannot be taken for granted because he will not allow it.  He is either a child who feels persecuted and thinks that nothing he gets is better than the rest, but he is also the offspring who loves the best, who defends his Kuya and who allows his baby brother to treat him like his toy bear.  He cannot be taken for granted because in the same manner that he gives the sweetest love,  he also demands that he is loved like there are no others.

The middle child can be the rainbow and the bright sun but can also be the thunderstorm.   And when he is all thunder and lightning, how he disarms his mother is a gift.

He prefers the villains over the heroes and sees the excitement and challenge over the despised, evil characters and how the heroes can be really boring indeed!

Yet his prayers are the most sensitive and comes out from him as a natural expression of his heart and soul - "dear God, thank you for the sand in the beach" and after he has taken our breath away and melted us in the warmth of such grace,  he'd jolt us all from revery with "thank you for my BAD brother" with a laughter that can only come from a very familiar and easy relationship with the God he knows. 

He boxed a schoolmate the other day, this middle child.  He said he had been forgiven.  Then why do the adults fuss over the incident?  He cried for an hour when he was told by his mother that parents will come the next day to reprimand him for hurting their son.  He had to learn a lesson and the elders were worried except for his grandfather who took him to his lap with so much love.

We do not know what will work but I know that this middle child will sort it out for himself.  Someone's gotta break 'em rules sometimes, and he is curious and daring enough- except that this time, the principal will be called in her very own office!

Maybe his daddy will see the principal.

Waiting for Lucy

These last few weeks of pregnancy are so murderously torturous.  Not mine but the ladies-in-waiting.  Ana would be as pregnant as a polywog but walked everyday meeting her quota of 6 hours every God-made day.  That was some determination pumped up by hormones that is otherwise not there when she is not heavy with a child.   And each time, each baby came out, it was all worth it.

I have mastered the art of waiting.  Waiting for each baby to come out.  From Ana to Marie and just two weeks ago, from Anne.

Waiting for Lucy was very zen.  Anne took her steps in the most pregnant way as her date was nearing.  She wobbled from leg to leg. I would watch her and shook my head.  I told myself: "That won't do!"  So I would shout from the bridge and call out to my son Juaqui urging him to bring Anne out of the house and go window-shopping where walking would be more entertaining.

Yet Anne was as zen as the pechays growing in my garden- slowly and quietly.  I managed to trick her to walk with me one day and brought her uphill and down, around the streets of Beverly and back.  Thank God I did not kill her!  I was worried after for she is not a spartan like Ana or the swimmer like Marie.  She is a doctor and she knew what she was doing.  Yet, there I was, the snooping and meddling MIL.

My son just shook his head when he found out that his wife walked with me.  I may be 60 but that is just a number.  I can pound the streets of the subdivision with steps that meant war and victory!

Walking with the MIL did not move the baby out of her mother's womb.  So I just waited patiently.  In fact, so as to keep my mind away from the birth, when, and how, I left for a few days and celebrated my friend Therese's birthday in Cagayan de Oro.

I painted while I thought of the baby and wondered... when do I see her? What do we call her?

I came home and went to the afternoon's graduation of The Little Farm House, where my eldest grandson, Jacob was graduating from preschool.  Jose and Sophia were going to perform a dance and so I prayed and willed for the rains in Landingan airport to stop.  In the afternoon, I was welcoming and speaking before parents and friends.  My phone rang in the middle of my speech.  That was my 6th granddaughter's birth unto this world.

Evanna Lucille was born on March 22, 2014.  The parents of my grandchildren knew what they want to call their children.  I supplied names everytime but none was considered.  I am very happy though with all their names!

So Lucy was born on March 22, 2014.  Oh the blessings of a newborn! She is pink with bright almond eyes.  She is my third granddaughter and the other 3 are boys.  I have no idea what the 7th will be but Lucy is firmly and undeniably beautiful just like all these gnomes growing in Frogglerocks.

She is a good reason to go up and down the stairs and to take a bath for.  Yes, Justo demands to be given a bath before a Lucy visit. And the dirty two other boys would whisper and hum a lullabye.  The 2 girls would come in their floral summer hats and would sit gently beside her.  Ziva did manage to pinch Lucy's toe a little bit.

Frogglerocks is happy for the wait!  Even the kingfishers are chatting joyfully by the river.

And oh, the arugulas are boastful in the garden, outside where Lucy lives.

Evanna Lucille

Lucy and me

Jose, Lucy and Jacob

Sophia, Ziva and Justo

cuddle time

The Ending: Shades of RED

Warning!  Warning to myself:   This blog could turn out to be in the league of E.L. James' 50 Shades of Grey except that I can only write about the beginning and the ending.  I will try to be minimal to be less profane and vulgar.

Shades of Red: a continuation of The Help

Sultry red:
Great body I suppose.  Well toned.  Honey skin.  Good-looking.  Petite. 

Brown red:
Masculine energy...

Brass red:
She does escrima when she sautees.  Would shock you with a recount of her state of bowel distress and discomfort right after you swallow the last scoop of dinner.  Her shock treatment ensures that she gets the attention she wants.  She was all over, groping us, bumping us.  The room was very crowded with just the two of you.

Rose red: 
Heavenly laundered clothes and sheets.  "No Downey"  I said.  She gets it.  I can wear my shirt for days and would smell as sweet as the first moment I put it on - chocolate with cream and vanilla dipped in Sakura bloom tea, for days...

La Loba:  Blood RED
Something unsettling and wild... raw sensuality, virile and steamy- while she launders our clothes or while she works downstairs saddled on the wide and deep sink or hanging our wet clothes, cleaning our windows or bringing fresh laundry to our room, her motto: "Be prepared".  She has a minimalist philosophy when working downstairs -  Her fashion is Winnie the Pooh:  with only a shirt and a short yellow one to be exact, while she hangs our clothes to dry,  Tarzan while she launders and a werewolf at different times of the day.  She transforms from red to skin.  She saw two full moons in Frogglerocks and all throughout these cycles, chaos reigned amongst the helps.  She was the most controversial, graphic and sensational creature who bathed and prowled beside the Tungtong River.    

Someone sits by the Frogglerocks bridge to nap, drink coffee or contemplate.  A shadow of a wet, half naked woman struts... waiting for her prey.  The prey is shocked and immobilized just like in the wilds.  Sugar level goes up in disbelief!  

The gardener turns into a figure of stone as her natural beauty was exposed before his eyes.  Poor one for he is so good, pure and gentle!  (NOTE:  this is only one of a number of possible scenarios)

Ana's Nightmare
A MMS was sent.  A few photos ala Playboy greeted Mister S a very Merry Christmas!  (La Loba's phone photos were actually for show to anyone she wished to flaunt her beauty to.)

Ending 

Goodbye La Loba.  Peace and quiet restored.  The night before I sent her home, she was beside a man in my kitchen.  As I entered, there was no one else excep La Loba.  "Good evening Ma'am!" she said alone.  I swear I saw!

Epilogue
I have been under the weather before she came.  My sore throat week after week was depressing.  I am in great health now.

I called a friend who's been in the dumps lately and for the first time in months, I made her very happy with my scary Christmas true story. 

An old friend came.  She did me wrong before.  She was uncomfortable at first.  I gave her a dose of La Loba story to put her at ease.

Indeed it was a great and effective antidote to depression.


HAVE A MERRY AND SAFE CHRISTMAS NENETTE AND FRIENDS!!!

Not in the Right Moment Yet

A growing brood did not take much time to expand.  These were portraits I did of Jacob, Jose and Sofia when they were younger.  But a year ago came two more! Justo and Ziva are the new fantastics!

From the top:  Jacob, Jose and Sofia

Jacob was 2 when I painted this. 

Weaning Jose.  Early dawn

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sofia as she rolled on the sofa while I tried to capture her inner fire

Justo and Ziva's portraits will follow in the near future.  They have very interesting personalities.  Have to find the right moment.

Sunday sitting

2 boys whose Sunday expectations are as high as their energy, took delight in the simple joy of jumping on each other and playing with their sitter- who happened to be me!

After a cooperative medicine time including eye drops and lung opening nebulizer, the photos would prove the bad effects of pharmaceuticals.

Morphing into deformities- thank God it is only an illusion!

Giggly and sweet

Mornings are a witness to sunlit and eager faces. Here is another set of not too sleepy catch under Ima's mosquito net.