Unintentionally joined the bandwagon


I had a huge dilemma before on how on earth will I be able to play with my little man when as I kid I was solitary and if ever, I only played with “girly” toys (… and might be geeky but there was a time when I spend total of 4 hours on weekdays and about 8 hours a day on holidays playing the piano).  What would we do? I would bore him. I wouldn’t be able to awaken his potentials.

This was proven unfounded through the years. It was pretty fun, simple, fuzz-free actually. When he was still starting to talk and explore his environment, it was all about sensory stimulation. Toys were universal, unisex. As long as it has bright colors and different textures, makes weird sounds, produces beautiful melodies and can easily be thrown, likes it.

We started toy cars early but even at a young age, his love for the alphabet and phonemes have shown already. Give him cars and he shapes the cars into letters. We used Ipad early but he memorized letter sounds because of that and so as the different arrangements for the alphabet song.

I got bored with cars but then he started to become interested with city structures. We buy ready made structures (thank you Tomica, Disney Pixar, Hotwheels ) and die cast cars but the process of developing our town got me interested.  I initially showed him we could make our own building and road and then he started requesting – Nanay could you make an SM Iloilo…. a building like our condo in Bacolod… a 7-11 just like what we saw a while ago…. a no jaywalking sign…. a no U-turn sign… the requests goes on and on..  I like it because somehow it brings out his creativity and from that I know he is quite observant.

We also got into watercolor painting at some point. I am not trained with visual art and I don’t have eye-hand coordination with it but we did it together as well anyway. The little man may have not known the technicalities about it but eventually he understood he can mix colors to make another color (Nanay I made color brown!, once he proudly said). He also learned to control his brush strokes – he do not soak the paper anymore and he can follow borders even while using small diameter brush.

Right now, adult coloring books are the in thing. We do that together too! At first I bought him activity and coloring books but once I saw an adult coloring book and decided to get one for myself.  We are now at the stage of parallel play. We do things together while minding our own business.  This holds true with coloring book. Nanay color tayo. He brings me my adult book and he gets his book. He gets my colored pencils and he gets his Crayola.  Nanay share tayo. Can I borrow your colored pencils?  Let’s share our colors. Tapos ka na ba? Malapit na ako matapos… 

Oh well, I only had time to “color” during my vacation leave. As of the moment, when I go home early, I blog, I would rather sleep or do something work related (I come home to a sleeping little man these past few weeks so it’s sadness).

Speaking of sleeping, he also have this understanding of my work status. At times, I ask his permission so that I can sleep in the afternoon when I go home during weekends ( I am from duty). He says, I will sleep in the playroom while he plays with his cars.  Makes me happy.

My guys talks non-stop when he’s in the mood. I try to keep up. I love it. I find joy in it. I find myself wishing for him not to grow up yet. It’s hard to let go of my lovable baby.  He WANTS TO grow up he says.  Malaki na ko Nanay. Matanda na ako. May anak na ako – si Pinggoy, ako si Tatay Miguel (he has a stuff toy we sometime bring with us when we go out).  Gusto ko rin ng senior citizen card (Dad, just got his recently, and is enjoying the perks)…

Very very spontaneous. Thank you.  I have many kuwento except it’s all Nanay kuwento and they are little things that only the little man can relate too.

Someday day, hija. There’s still hope, one day someone will listen and be interested again. 



Just this morning, I had this dream, I was sleeping naked in my room.  I woke up all of a sudden noting my parents were on the other bed, not caring at all that I am not wearing anything and what’s worse was there were a bunch of other people who were around as well just going in and out of the room.


– – –

Of course I looked it up… I think in my case, my dream means

  1. I am feeling naked by this kind of blogging again.  You see, I didn’t intend to just write out everything.  At my age, I think writing should be more purposeful in the sense that I will be sharing something worth sharing, something worth looking back.  But then, look. I open my laptop and open this blank space and before I call it a night, I do some verbal release before I retire. I’m in (almost desperate) need of outlet right now.  And my soul is still getting reacquainted to the feeling.
  2. Of pending reports and projects.  I am way far from finishing it and submission is in 3 weeks time. Hooray. Shameful me.
  3.  Hiding. Yes I am great in hiding. But I am sure I am not doing it for myself.  I suffer a little but I think that’s o.k. I guess.


This problem at the office, I feel, is all about attitude.  Alpha personality, superiority complex, being self righteous – lack of communication, acceptance – understanding.

Honestly, they say I am one of the weaker ones. I am one of the passive ones. But if you know me, you would know I am an emotional sponge.  It is your problem but it burdens me.  I try to be alright with everybody but with that comes an effort to look beyond the cold war going on.

Tama na. 


Because I think of why I find it awkwardly weird when someone asks about how is my personal life.  My mind whispers but the world isn’t ready for my answer.

  • If I tell you I feel broken, can you do something to fix me?
  • If I tell you I really need a shoulder to hug, can you give me the comfort?
  • If I cry in front of you, will you be able to feel me?
  • Will talking about it make me feel better?
  • Will talking about it make things better?
  • Does it even matter how I feel? Will the world stop just for me?

NO. The answer to all of this is no. The next best thing to do is LET GO. You breathe in and out. No. I don’t have any problem that is your concern. My feelings are my own. I have to take care of  myself because no one else will.

Moving on…

Resting b*tch face


Social media is filled with smart *ss articles on being introvert and this article has simple graphs that are catchy.  My resting face, I guess, is rather filled with melancholia (not b*tchiness). I get to hear “Why are you sad”, “Are you o.k.”, “What’s wrong”.  I smile a lot that’s why so I guess when certain people start to notice otherwise, they ask.

I have no problem with the job of being with people. I like to educate. I like being able to serve and being able to make them feel we do more than heal physically. But what I actually do does not always equate to what I feel.  Sometimes I don’t know what I feel anymore. Most of the time, I try not care anymore of how I feel. Just continue doing. Live a life of purpose. I try to live by that mantra now. When all else fail, just do what you have to do. No questions asked. No whining. No complaining.  It works somehow because I know I am doing something good, maybe not always for myself but hopefully I am helping make the world a better place.  (Is this utilitarianism?)

Still, at the end of the day, it gets tiring.  I am an introvert and I am a snob. When clock ticks at 5, I remove the white coat and feel sucked by a black hole. Enough. I start to have the urge to get away. It’s that empty silence, nothingness as I call it, that blocks out the people around me. At least that’s how it feels but you cannot go home as you want to. YOU HAVE TO WAIT FOR ENDORSEMENT which could be delayed by almost anything, from carry outs left to be done,  late afternoon consultant rounds, a patient suddenly going into arrest or even another fellow’s insensitive attitude. My heart begins to steam until it wants to explode yet it doesn’t – because you I am a snob,  and I don’t want to step down below the level of people who lose their cool when they’re angry.

I wish there is a person I can spend time with without having to put the mask of being accommodating and nice. Someone who’ll understand I am quiet just because I don’t care anymore what has been and what will be. Someone who will understand I am savoring that moment, how fleeting that is. The world outside is fast paced. My person is not. I need that time of darkness. I need that time of solitude and weird as it may sound, it is something I want to share again with someone because I know it is possible. If you are not this person, I’d rather enjoy my time alone please.


I don’t know how to make all of this jive. But right now, that resting b*tch face, is a face that’s waiting for someone to bring me home to rest.

A day in a life

450 a.m. He wakes me up. It’s my turn for my bath.
5:20 a.m. All set. He drops me off at the bus station.
6:45 a.m. Too early to set foot at the hospital. I decide to have breakfast, or have a quick nap at my place near the hospital.
7:30 a.m. Buzzer beater. Round table endorsement.
9:30 a.m. Endorsement ends. Rounds. Reporting. Admission. Pronouncing. Catching. Whateff.
4:30 p.m. Afternoon endorsement.
5:30 p.m. Wohoo!! A bit early for home! Rushing to the bus station.
6:30 p.m.  Wakes from naps… wait… I’m still here???
7:30 p.m.  HOPE BREAKS.  … I’m still here????
8:00 p.m. Off to transfer to my last ride home. Calls home. “He’s asleep already.”
8:30 p.m. Decided to stop by nearby fastfood at home.
9:00 p.m. Done with my food. Didn’t study. Decided to document the nothingness of my day.
9:20 p.m. Almost running out of battery. Off to buy ice cream.
9:30 p.m. Out of battery. Wallet empty.
9:45 p.m. Walks home.
10:oo p.m. Night rituals.
10:30 p.m Waiting…
10:45 p.m. Waiting…
11:00 p.m. SHUT DOWN.

Art in Island

I have heard of Art in Island for quite sometime already. Though I already planned on bringing My Little Man in this visual playground, what made us push through with the trip was when he personally showed interest in it.  He learned about it from the t.v. (from a noontime show hosted by a kid).

One fine Friday afternoon, I surprised him and picked him up from school. We had a quick lunch at a nearby KFC then took a ride to Cubao. Being great in remembering street names, and having spent a small part of my childhood spending fun weekends in the area (remember: C.O.D, Fiesta Carnival, Rustan’s!)… I had to use my phone GPS to literally track down the place (search: Art in Island). Seriously, Google Map worked!  The map showed two street access from Tuazon . We walked from the main road to one of those streets until it lead us to a big lot housing a simple but modern structure.

I wasn’t that prepared to shell out P400 pesos (oopps, forgot to note about it earlier), but since we were there already and it was exciting even from the outside, we took off our shoes and followed their instruction: do whatever and take pictures as much as we wanted to.  It was worth it!

These are a few of the crazy picks.