Archive for February, 2007

I just want to express my broken heart.

I love having cameras; since I was young my father would buy me a good quality of cameras.

The first Digital Camera I had was a 1.3MP Olympus Camedia. I have it when digital camera was not so popular yet in the Philippines. Due to people borrowing and I having dropped it for so many times, it was broken.

I then bought a Nokia N90 2MP (carl zeiss optics), because we have no cams to use when there’s a special occasion at home. Since, they advertise it as a good kind of phone and cam – I bought the advertisement. It’s a good phone, but later the Camera’s just boost up their MPs soo fast. From the 2MP, after a month I have heard of the 3MP, then the latest I have seen was 5MP.

My father bought a Sony Cyber-shot cam with a 7.2 MP (carl zeiss optics). I was so happy when I saw it, the moment he arrived last Saturday (February 24, 2007). At last my family will have a good camera to use.

Our fiesta came, (Sunday – February 25, 2007) my mother warned my dad not to drink, because we will have a lot of visitors to entertain.

The morning we went to mass. My parents and daughter went home after, but I stayed at the chapel for the Baptism of my nephew.

The next time, I saw my dad, he was already drunk.

Visitors came, and then the family of Hectril arrived. My drunken dad told me to look for the cam because he wants to take a picture of Ting-ting (Hectril’s Mom).

I went “GAGA” looking for the cam at my parents room, checked the pocket of the pants he wore during the mass, checked the polo too, under the pillows, under the bed, on the bags hanging, and on the cabinet. I went down frustrated, because I haven’t found the camera.

I saw my dad smiling, and then he told me, “I have given the camera to Ting-ting.”

I went &%^$#@!* crazy. I was so angry at him, that I wanted to kill him.

What the hell was he thinking? HAMBOG!

I still can’t get over it.

I often hear people say, that in able for you to stick on your job, you have to love it. I found this article “Loving Your Work,” and I think this would be a good help for workers.

Enjoy Reading!

• Love starts with a smile, grows with a kiss, and ends with a tear.

• Don’t cry over anyone who won’t cry over you.
• Good friends are hard to find, harder to leave, and impossible to forget.
• You can only go as far as you push.
• Actions speak louder than words.
• The hardest thing to do is watch the one you love, love somebody else.
• Don’t let the past hold you back; you’re missing the good stuff.
• Life’s short. If you don’t look around once in a while, you might miss it.
• A best friend is like a four leaf clover: hard to find and lucky to have.
• If you think that the world means nothing, think again. You might mean the world to someone else.
• When it hurts to look back, and you’re scared to look ahead, you can look beside you and your best friend will be there
• True friendship never ends.
• Friends are forever.
• Good friends are like stars….You don’t always see them, but you know they are always there.
• Don’t frown. You never know who is falling in love with your smile.
• What do you do when the only person who can make you stop crying is the person who made you cry?
• NOBODY IS PERFECT UNTIL YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH THEM. (Isn’t that the truth?)
• Everything is okay in the end. If it’s not okay, then it’s not the end.

After 21 years of marriage, I discovered a new way of keeping alive the spark of love. A little while ago I had to go out with another woman. It was really my wife’s idea. “I know that you love her,” she said one day, taking me by surprise. “But I love YOU,” I protested. “I know, but you also love her”

The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my mother, who has been a widow for 19 years, but the demands of my work and my three children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally. That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie.

“What’s wrong, are you well?” she asked. My mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news.

“I thought that it would be nice to pass some time with you,” responded. “Just the two of us.”

She thought about it for a moment, and then said, “I would like that very much.”

That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up, I was a bit nervous.

When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date. She waited in the door with her coat on. She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary. She smiled from a face that was as radiant as an angel’s.

“I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed,” she said, as she got into the car. “They can’t wait to hear about our meeting.”

We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cozy. My mother took my arm as if she were the First Lady. After we sat down, I had to read the menu.

Her eyes could only read large print. Half way through the entrees, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting there staring at me. A nostalgic smile was on her lips.

“It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small,” she said. “Then it’s time that you relax and let me return the favor,” I responded.

During the dinner we had an agreeable conversation-nothing extraordinary-but catching up on recent events of each others life. We talked so much that we missed the movie.

As we arrived at her house later, she said, “I’ll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite you.” I agreed.

“How was your dinner date?” asked my wife when I got home. “Very nice. Much more so than I could have imagined,” I answered.

A few days later my mother died of a massive heart attack. It happened so suddenly that I didn’t have a chance to do anything for her.

Some time later I received an envelope with a copy of a restaurant receipt from the same place mother and I had dined. An attached note said: “I paid this bill in advance. I was almost sure that I couldn’t be there but, nevertheless, I paid for two plates, one for you and the other for your wife. You will never know what that night meant for me. I love you.”

At that moment I understood the importance of saying, in time: “I LOVE YOU” and to give our loved ones the time that they deserve.

Another story I want to share:

During one of our seminars, a woman asked a common question. She said, “How do I know if I married the right person?”

I noticed that there was a large man sitting next to her so I said, “It depends. Is that your husband?”

In all seriousness, she answered “How do you know?”

Let me answer this question because the chances are good that it’s weighing on your mind.

Here’s the answer.

EVERY relationship has a cycle. In the beginning, you fell in love with your spouse. You anticipated their call, wanted their touch, and liked their idiosyncrasies.

Falling in love with your spouse wasn’t hard. In fact, it was a completely natural and spontaneous experience. You didn’t have to DO anything. That’s why it’s called “falling” in love… because it’s happening TO YOU.

People in love sometimes say, “I was swept of my feet.” Think about the imagery of that expression. It implies that you were just standing there; doing nothing, and then something came along and happened TO YOU.

Falling is love is easy. It’s a passive and spontaneous experience.

But after a few years of marriage, the euphoria of love fades. It’s the natural cycle of EVERY relationship. Slowly but surely, phone calls become a bother (if they come at all), touch is not always welcome (when it happens), and your spouse’s idiosyncrasies, instead of being cute, drive you nuts.

The symptoms of this stage vary with every relationship, but if you think about your marriage, LEARNING TO LOVE THE PERSON YOU FOUND.

SUSTAINING love is not a passive or spontaneous experience. It’ll NEVER just happen to you. You can’t “find” LASTING love. You have to “make” it day in and day out. That’s why we have the expression “the labor of love.” Because it takes time, effort, and energy. And most importantly, it takes WISDOM. You have to know WHAT TO DO to make your marriage work.

Make no mistake about it. Love is NOT a mystery. There are specific things you can do (with or without your spouse) to succeed with your marriage.

Just as there are physical laws of the universe (such as gravity), there are also laws for relationships. Just as the right diet and exercise program makes you physically stronger, certain habits in your relationship WILL make your marriage stronger. It’s a direct cause and effect. If you know and apply the laws, the results are predictable… you can “make” love.

Love in marriage is indeed a “decision”… not just a feeling.

That was August (years ago) when Hectril and I met in a chat room. I was broken hearted then. (I don’t go into a chat room if I am not.) From there we got to know each other.

We met because he needs help in Visual Basic in which I know a little of. I wasn’t much of help for him that day.

Since then we often go out with his friends, became closer and eventually became lovers. I was often in his house, so I got to know his family better.

It was February 14 (years ago) that I knew, aside from me, he has another girlfriend (GF-C) far from him.

GF-C was sending him a message. I replied using his mobile phone. I asked her who she really is. She told me she is the GF of Hectril. I confronted him, but he said that I am his girlfriend and that GF-C is his past. But on his way home I saw him crying. We talked and there, we broke up. (Who am I to stand in the way of two people loving each other?)

I knew he went to the girl, because I heard she was hospitalized because of that event. The girl then got my number. She called me and then kept on sending me threatening message. I was not used to it so I told Hectril about it.

Maybe because of such attitude GF-C, Hectril broke up with her. Then Hectril and I got back together. We were ON and OFF, because I often caught him for being a playboy.

My insecurity builds up.

I got pregnant and we had a baby girl, but we never got married because he was not ready then.

I got tired of the ON and OFF thing, so I decided to formally break up without any fight.

I was confident that time because he was still holding on to me.

A month has passed and he asked me if he could court someone else, and I permitted him to do so. It was just okay with me, after all I am the one who broke up to move on.

When I knew he had a GF (GF-D), I was so jealous. Especially he is showing me things that he does to her that he hasn’t done to me before. Like saying, don’t be so close to me because I don’t want to lose the one I love (he meant GF-D). I also saw her picture in his mobile phone – wallpaper. (He has not done this to me before. Even during the time I let him borrow my mobile phone).

I don’t think that she is more beautiful than me, though she knows how to fix herself and be presentable.

I don’t use make ups, nor dress up like a model, because for me simplicity is beauty. As you could see, as simple as I am – I am beautiful.

I don’t know what happened to them, but it seems they lost communication.

Since Hectril and I often see each other, because I bring our baby to his house at least once a week. We became closer.

We saw that our daughter is happy when she is surrounded by her family.

I know he loves our daughter, and so do I.

We treasure our friendship now, and I am proud the way we are.

This just proves that X-Lovers could be best of friends; because of the bond that they have formed long ago, and for accepting each other fully.

Another story I received in my email:

Sally jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room. She said: “How is my little boy? Is he going to be all right? When can I see him?”

The surgeon said, “I’m sorry. We did all we could, but your boy didn’t make it.”

Sally said, “Why do little children get cancer? Doesn’t God care any more?

Where were you, God, when my son needed you?”

The surgeon asked, “Would you like some time alone with your son? One of the nurses will be out in a few minutes, before he’s transported to the university.”

Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while she said good-bye to son. She ran her fingers lovingly through his thick red curly hair.

“Would you like a lock of his hair?” the nurse asked.

Sally nodded yes. The nurse cut a lock of the boy’s hair, put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Sally. The mother said, “It was Jimmy’s idea to donate his body to the University for Study. He said it might help somebody else. “I said no at first, but Jimmy said, ‘Mom, I won’t be using it after I die. Maybe it will help some other little boy spend one more day with his Mom.” She went on, “My Jimmy had a heart of gold. Always thinking of someone else, always want to help others if he could.”

Sally walked out of Children’s mercy Hospital for the last time, after spending most of the last six months there. She put the bag with Jimmy’s belongings on the seat beside her in the car. The drive home was difficult. It was even harder to enter the empty house. She carried Jimmy’s belongings and the plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her son’s room. She started placing the model cars and other personal things back in his room exactly where he had always kept them. She lay down across his bed and, hugging his pillow, cried herself to sleep.

It was around midnight when Sally awoke. Laying beside her o n the bed was a folded letter. The letter said:

“Dear Mom, I know you’re going to miss me; but don’t think that I will ever forget you, or stop loving you, just ’cause I’m not around to say I LOVE YOU. I will always love you, Mom, even more with each day. Someday we will see each other again. Until then, if you want to adopt a little boy so you won’t be so lonely, that’s okay with me. He can have my room and old stuff to play with. But, if you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn’t like the same things us boys do. You’ll have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like, you know. Don’t be sad thinking about me. This really is a neat place. Grandma and Grandpa met me as soon as I got here and showed me around some, but it will take a long time to see everything. The angels are so cool. I love to watch them fly. And, you know what? Jesus doesn’t look like any of his pictures. Yet, when I saw Him, I knew it was Him. Jesus himself took me to see GOD! And guess what! , Mom? I got to sit on God’s knee and talk to Him, like I was somebody important. That’s when I told Him that I wanted to write you a letter, to tell you good-bye and everything. But I already knew that wasn’t allowed. Well, you know what Mom? God handed me some paper and His own personal pen to write you this letter. I think Gabriel is the name of the angel who is going to drop this letter off to you. God said for me to give you the answer to one of the questions you asked Him ‘Where was He when I needed him?’ “God said He was in the same place with me, as when His son Jesus was on the cross. He was right there, as He always is with all His children.

Oh, by the way, Mom, no one else can see what I’ve written except you. To everyone else this is just a blank piece of paper. Isn’t that cool? I have to give God His pen back now. He needs it to write some more names in the Book of Life. Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for supper. I’m, sure the food will be great.

Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I don’t hurt anymore. T he cancer is all gone. I’m glad because I couldn’t stand that pain anymore and God couldn’t stand to see me hurt so much, either. That’s when He sent The Angel of Mercy to come get me. The Angel said I was a Special Delivery! How about that? Signed with Love from: God, Jesus & Me.

Just days ago I saw my neighbor waiting for his sister to arrive from school. This guy does this everyday. He also works hard to help her sister financially. This guy didn’t finish school because his mother said, his brain couldn’t take it. It reminds me of this story:

I was born in a secluded village on a mountain. Day by day, my parents plowed the yellow dry soil with their backs towards the sky.

I have a brother who is 3 years younger than me. I wanted to buy a handkerchief, which all girls around me seemed to have. So, one day I stole 50 cents from my father’s drawer. Father had discovered about the stolen money right away.

He made me and my younger brother kneel against the wall as he held a bamboo stick in his hand. “Who stole the money?” he asked. I was stunned, too afraid to talk. Neither of us admitted to the fault, so he said, “Fine, if nobody wants to admit, you two should be beaten!” He lifted up the bamboo stick.

Suddenly, my younger brother gripped father’s hand and said,” Dad, I was the one who did it!” The long stick smacked my brother’s back repeatedly. Father was so angry that he kept on whipping my brother until he lost his breath. After that, he sat down on our stone bed and scolded my brother, “You have learned to steal from your own house now. What other embarrassing things will you be possibly doing in the future? You should be beaten to death, you shameless thief!” That night, my mother and I hugged my brother. His body was full of wounds from the beating but he never shed a single tear.

In the middle of the night, all of sudden, I cried out loudly. My brother covered my mouth with his little hand and said, ” Sis, now don’t cry anymore. Everything has happened.” I still hate myself for not having enough courage to admit what I did.

Years gone by, but the incident still seemed like it just happened yesterday. I will never forget my brother’s _____expression when he protected me.

That year, my brother was 8 years old and I was 11 years old. When my brother was in his last year of secondary school, he was accepted in an upper secondary school in the central. At the same time, I was accepted into a university in the province. That night, father squatted in the yard, smoking, packet by packet.

I could hear him ask my mother, “Both of our children, they have good results? very good results?” Mother wiped off her tears and sighed,” What is the use? How can we possibly finance both of them?” At that time, my brother walked out, he stood in front of father and said, “Dad, I don’t want to continue my study anymore, I have read enough books.”

Father swung his hand and slapped my brother on his face. “Why do you have a spirit so damn weak? Even if it means I have to beg for money on the streets, I will send you two to school until you have both finished your study!” And then, he started to knock on every house in the village to borrow money.

I stuck out my hand as gently as I can to my brother’s swollen face, and told him, “A boy has to continue his study; If not, he will not be able to overcome this poverty we are experiencing.”

I, on the other hand, had decided not to further my study at the university. Nobody knew that on the next day, before dawn, my brother left the house with a few pieces of worn-out clothes and a few dry beans. He sneaked to my side of the bed and left a note on my pillow; “Sis, getting into a university is not easy. I will go find a job and I will send money to you.” I held the note while sitting on my bed, and cried until I lost my voice.

That year, my brother was 17 years old; I was 20 years old. With the money father borrowed from the whole village, and the money my brother earned from carrying cement on his back at a construction site, finally, I managed to get to the third year of my study in the university.

One day, while I was studying in my room, my roommate came in and told me, “There’s a villager waiting for you outside!” Why would there be a villager looking for me? I walked out, and I saw my brother from afar. His whole body was covered with dirt, dust, cement and sand. I asked him, “Why did you not tell my roommate that you are my brother?” He replied with a smile,” Look at my appearance. What will they think if they would know that I am your brother? Won’t they laugh at you?” I felt so touched, and tears filled my eyes. I swept away dirt and dust from my brother’s body. And told him with a lump in my throat, ” I don’t care what people would say! You are my brother no matter what your appearance is?”

From his pocket, he took out a butterfly hair clip. He put it on my hair and said, “I saw all the girls in town are wearing it. So, I think you should also have one.” I could not hold back myself anymore. I pulled my brother into my arms and cried.

That year, my brother was 20 years old; I was 23 years old. I noticed that the broken window was repaired the first time I brought my boyfriend home. The house was scrubbed cleaned. After my boyfriend left, I danced like a little girl in front of my mother, “Mom, you didn’t have to spend so much time cleaning the house!” But she told me with a smile,” It was your brother who went home early to clean the house. Didn’t you see the wound on his hand? He hurt his hand while he was replacing the window.” I went into my brother’s bedroom. Looking at his thin face, I felt like there are hundreds of needle pricked in my heart.

I applied some ointment on his wound and put a bandage on it, “Does it hurt? ” I asked him. “No, it doesn’t hurt. You know, when at the construction site, stones keep falling on my feet. Even that could not stop me from working.” In the middle of the sentence, he stopped. I turned my back on him and tears rolled down my face.

That year, my brother was 23 years old; I was 26 years old. After I got married, I lived in the city. Many times my husband invited my parents to come and live with us, but they didn’t want. They said, once they left the village, they wouldn’t know what to do. My brother agreed with them. He said, “Sis, you just take care of your parents-in-law. I will take care of mom and dad here.”

My husband became the director of his factory. We asked my brother to accept the offer of being the manager in the maintenance department. But my brother rejected the offer. He insisted on working as a repairman instead for a start. One day, my brother was on the top of a ladder repairing a cable, when he got electrocuted, and was sent to the hospital. My husband and I visited him at the hospital. Looking at the white gypsum on his leg, I grumbled, “Why did you reject the offer of being a manager? Managers won’t do something dangerous like that. Now look at you, You are suffering a serious injury. Why didn’t you just listen to us?”

With a serious _____expression on his face, he defended his decision, “Think of brother-in-law. He just became the director, and I being uneducated, and would become a manager, what kind of rumors would fly around?” My husband’s eyes filled up with tears, and then I said, “But you lack in education only because of me!” “Why do you talk about the past?” he said and then he held my hand.

That year, he was 26 years old and I was 29 years old. My brother was 30 years old when he married a farmer girl from the village. During the wedding reception, the master of ceremonies asked him, “Who is the one person you respect and love the most?” Without even taking a time to think, he answered,” My sister.” He continued by telling a story I could not even remember.

“When I was in primary school, the school was in a different village. Everyday, my sister and I would walk for 2 hours to school and back home. One day, I lost the other pair of my gloves. My sister gave me one of hers. She wore only one glove and she had to walk far. When we got home, her hands were trembling because of the cold weather that she could not even hold her chopsticks. >From that day on, I swore that as long as I live, I would take care of my sister and will always be good to her.” Applause filled up the room. All guests turned their attention to me. I found it hard to speak, “In my whole life, the one I would like to thank most is my brother,” And in this happy occasion, in front of the crowd, tears were rolling down my face again.

Love and care for the one you love every single days of your life. You may think what you did is just a small deed, but to that someone, it may mean a lot.

As a mother, it touches me to see pictures of a parent and child. Somehow it makes me happy.

I remember that me and the father of my baby, fought because of this picture thing.

I used to browse his friendster and check the pictures there. I was happy to see a picture of our baby in his profile, but after a week he deleted it and then there remains a picture of a bottle of beer and a keyboard. So, I burst into anger, what kind of father would prioritize a picture of a beer and a keyboard over the picture of his baby? I was really angry at him that time, but I knew he was not mature enough then, and he was such a playboy that he doesn’t want his gals to know he has a kid. Now, he has a picture of our baby in his profile. I am happy to see that.

As my tribute to a proud parent like me, here are the links of their blogs.

These are just a 15 blogs of the proud parents that I found on the 2000 bloggers.

http://imomblogger.blogspot.com/

http://daddydiarytales.blogspot.com/

http://lawyermama.blogspot.com/

http://www.bernardchan.net/

http://badbadivy.blogspot.com/

http://hamelife.com/

http://boreddad.blogspot.com/

http://www.findingphoenixneighborhoods.com/

http://wilson-six.blogspot.com/

http://www.muchmorethanamom.com/

http://www.rpsd.com/moblog/

http://frymoments.blogspot.com/

http://littlenuttree.wordpress.com/

http://rscohn.blogspot.com/

http://domesticpsychology.com/blog/

Happy Parenting

A few nights ago, I have committed the biggest mistake in my life.

I was tired from work and sleepy, as my daughter played in her bed beside mine.

She opened her bottle and poured water in her bed. As she attempted to open a new bottle and pour another one, I immediately went to her and to my anger (maybe due to stress), I put her face on the wet side of the bed (the one where she poured the water) and shouted, “LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID!” My daughter then, sat down and say things I could not understand (I know she was defending herself) as she started to cry. Seeing her pitiful face, my heart melted. I feel so guilty for having to discipline her that way.

I moved back and relaxed for a minute then went back to my daughter again. I leaned towards her saying (as calm and as soft as I can), “Baby please don’t play with water on your bed again. How could you sleep in a wet bed? Would you like to sleep on that wet bed? I am sorry baby.” As I attempt to hug her, she kissed me. I then hugged her tightly and kept on saying, “I am sorry. I love you baby.”

From that time on, I promised, I would always try to be calm in dealing with my baby. I don’t ever want to see that pitiful face again. It breaks my heart, more than a man could.