A good excuse to shop

Hey, Palo Alto (and Bay Area) moms, here's a chance to stock up on some hip kid's fashions, support some mom entrepreneurs and help out your local school at the same time. A fellow Silicon Valley Mom, Pamela, is co-hosting a shopping fundraiser next week. I've always admired Pamela's sense of style so I'm sure the stuff at this boutique will be worth the visit. She's hosted a couple of Tea sample sales that I have been to and I love their stuff. I just wish they made stuff in larger sizes so I could continue buying some Tea for Natalie (who is tall for her age and wears a size 7).

Feeling like a bongga mom

I'm feeling very bongga today. Not frumpy like I feel when I drop Natalie off at school and see some of the chic, put-together moms. Not resigned like I feel when I see messes all around the house. Not tired like I feel at the end of the day after taking care of everyone but myself. No, I'm feeling hopeful and happy today. My spirits are up and there's a bounce in my step. Here's why:

1) The sun is shining and the air is warm. After all the grey skies and cold spells, we've been wondering whether we live in California or England! The sky right now reminds me of warm, lazy afternoons in Manila.

2) All three kids are at school today. Tuesdays and Thursdays are my errand days, when I can go grocery shopping, do the laundry, visit the dentist, deposit bank cheques, visit the hardward store without the kids, volunteer at Natalie's school. The days I can nip in and out of my car. Even better, T/Th are my "exhale" days, when I can get my hair cut, surf the internet, and wander aimlessly around shopping malls.

3) I'm carrying my cute, pink, girly phone around. And I'm wearing nail polish and jewelry. Just having a sparkly bracelet on makes me want to make my wrists go limp so I can admire my manicured hand. Plus, the chunky beads makes my wrist and arms look thinner. I feel flirty and fun and feminine.



4) I went to the library and borrowed a bunch of books today. Goodness knows when I'm going to read them. Tuesday thru Thursday are my TV nights (American Idol, House and Grey's Anatomy have prior claim on those evenings), and many other nights I find myself glued to the computer, surfing, checking email or blogging. But just having the books at home makes me want to find the time. I feel like I'm rediscovering the part of myself that loves to read, and that makes me feel good.

5) And last but not least, my jeans are hanging loose on me. That alone is reason enough to feel like a Bongga Mom!

Why would anyone view our home???

Now that we've committed to the Open House tour, Graham and I have been looking around the house with a more critical eye. What was I thinking? Our coffee table has scratches and chips on it. There are toys everywhere. The laundry room is piled high with laundry --unfolded laundry. The paint is chipped on the walls and baseboard. Our upstairs landing has an ugly makeshift gate to keep the kids away. It's like a giant playpen with 2 computers and piles of paper. Philip has scribbled all over the banisters with a permanent marker. It matches Natalie's permanent marker scribbles on the playroom floor.

We've got a lot of cleaning and fixing and sprucing up to do. Fortunately, we've got a couple of months to go. And it's high time we did a lot of this anyway. There's nothing like the criticism of strangers to get you moving.

View our home for $30

Sometime in mid-April, approximately 500-700 strangers will be paying $30 to wander through our house. A day after our home appeared in the local newspaper, we were contacted by the Palo Alto Area Mills College Club. Our home will be one of five featured in the 16th Annual Charming Cottages of Palo Alto House Tour, a benefit for the Palo Alto Area Mills College Club's scholarship fund and alumnae activities.

We're really flattered, but also freaked out by the prospect of vandals or theives, or worse, potential thieves coming into our house and casing the joint before breaking in and robbing us. Flattery won. Anyway, the organizers have an insurance policy for the event, they said they've never had any trouble of that sort, and there isn't anything worth stealing (except for our kids). Also, it's for a good cause. In the late 90's, a co-worker recruited me to volunteer at Mills' College Expanding Your Horizons program. I enjoyed it so much, I went back two more times. So I'm glad to be helping Mills College out.

So watch out for more info in the coming months. I just hope people don't take it upon themselves to sneak a peek inside our medicine cabinet or closet or anything with a closed door. Because all the mess and junk that we've been hiding will come tumbling out!

Chronicles of a boy and his Tati

Once upon a time there was a little boy who kicked the covers off at night. So his parents covered him up in a pink fleece zip-up sleepsack. Finally, he was warm and safe and snuggly, and he slept.

The pink sleepsack became his best friend, and he called it Tati. Tati was the first thing he reached for in the morning, and the last thing he cuddled at night. He dragged it over sidewalks and grass, carpet and wood, until his mama had to take it from him and wash it till it was squeaky-clean and fluffy-soft.

On his first day of preschool, Tati was with him. He entered the classroom, full of strange teachers and children, with his lower lip quivering and tears in his eyes. But he held Tati close, waved to his mama and went inside. When he broke his finger, Tati went with him to the emergency room, and comforted him even when they put him on a cold, hard bed and poked him and hurt him. When his big sister teased, "Pink is for girls!", he stoutly refused to listen and hugged Tati harder.

The boy had many adventures, and his faithful Tati always went with him. Even though he sometimes had to leave Tati behind, he knew Tati would always be waiting for him.

This isn't very long, as Chronicles go; the boy is, after all, only 3. But I'd like to think I can predict how the rest of it may go:

The boy will have many more adventures, and his faithful Tati will always go with him. Giving him courage, reassurance, love and strength.

Someday, the boy will enter kindergarten, and on his first day, Tati will be with him. As he enters the door to his classroom, he will see his mama behind him, with her lower lip quivering and tears in her eyes. He will run back to her, give her a hug and hand her the Tati, saying, "Here mama, you need Tati more than I do."

His mama will hold Tati close, breathing in the little-boy smell. She will wash Tati until it is squeaky-clean and fluffy-soft. She will fold it carefully and put it away. The Tati will stay hidden for many years, until the little boy becomes a big boy, and perhaps has a little boy or girl of his own. And then the Chronicles will begin all over again.

For more Sunday Scribblings, click here.

Happy Feet!

It's Love Thursday again, and today I've posted a photo of feet. We were having a foot-fighting session when this photo was taken and I snapped it on a whim. I actually don't love my feet at all; I think they're too big and flipper-like. But I loooove my kids' feet; they are soft and chubby and small and sweet. I look at this photo and hope that their feet don't turn out like mine when they grow up. Actually, let me rephrase that; I hope they grow up loving their feet and every part of themselves.

Six Weird Things about Manila

Sognatrice ("sohn-ya-tree-chay", isn't that a lovely name?) of Bleeding Espresso recently blogged on Six Weird Things About Your City. It was a great post, so I thought I'd play along. I've lived in Palo Alto, California for the past 12 years, but it's so reassuringly suburban, I couldn't think of many weird things about it. I thought I'd use Manila, the Philippines, instead, since after all, that's still where I've lived for most of my life. And besides, Filipinos love to poke fun at themselves.

Six weird things about Manila:

1) There are no bus stops. You can get off literally anywhere. Just shout "Para" ("Stop!"), and no matter which lane the bus is in, the bus driver will swerve (causing the bus and its passengers to sway and lean to one side), cut across any obstacles in his path, and manage to stop the bus and deposit you at the exact location you requested. No additional walking required! Just like a taxi service (or a rollercoaster).

2) The jeepney is a uniquely Filipino form of public transportation -- a garishly-decorated jeep-like vehicle that holds 10 or 15 paying passengers (or more, depending on whether people are willing to hang out of the back or on the roof). I've always found it amazing how the jeepney driver manages to negotiate the crazy Manila traffic while managing passenger fares at the same time. He doesn't wait for people to turn in their fare before starting off; passengers hand it in at some arbitrary point in their journey. Somehow, while driving, the jeepney driver always manages to figure out whether you have paid or not, where you got on, how far you've travelled, and how much you needed to pay. And when you're at the back, your money is handed from passenger to passenger until it reaches the driver. But somehow, you always manage to get your exact change back.

3) Basketball is the #1 sport. This is weird because the average Filipino male is probably 5'6" or 5'7" tall (I know because I'm 5'8", and at college I was one of the tallest females and taller than most males). You'd think Filipinos would enjoy sports like soccer or golf or bowling, where height is not a factor, but no, we're American babies through and through. Filipinos follow the PBA like Americans follow the NBA, and in around the residential areas of Manila, it is not uncommon to find a coconut tree with a basketball hoop nailed to it.

4) Everyone wears jeans. Because of the heat, you'd expect everyone to go about their business in shorts, skirts, or loose cotton slacks. But we are slaves to Western fashion. So the ubiquitous outfit of choice is a t-shirt and jeans. Thick, hot denim from waist to ankle in 90-degree weather. It makes me sweat just thinking of it -- but hey, at least we all look good.

5) You can buy 1 tsp. of cooking oil. Many Filipinos live literally day-to-day. They are often are paid daily and have no savings. So in all the outdoor markets, it's possible to buy exactly what you need to survive for that day. Vendors will sell you 1 egg or 1 tumpok (an arbitrarily-smallish pile) of tomatoes or a thimbleful of cooking oil. Companies like Unilever and Procter & Gamble even manufacture shampoo and laundry detergent in single-serve packets. Not travel-size bottles like we have here; I mean sample-size foil packets that literally contain barely enough shampoo for 1 use.

6) "Bababa ba?" This means "Are you going down, or what?". This is a classic example of how funny the Filipino language can be. It sounds like something a baby would say, yet college-educated businessmen say this all the time. I love how a single syllable can have so much meaning in it!

We're in the news!

Hey, we are now Z-list celebrities! Or rather, our house is the celebrity; it was featured in our local newspaper, the Palo Alto Weekly. And we almost missed it. At kindergarten drop-off today, one of the moms there congratulated us on the article about us in the paper. My first reaction was, "huh?". My second reaction was, "Was it for Silicon Valley Moms Blog? Or my own humble blog?". She had to fill me in: "It was about your remodel". Oh, yeah, thaaaaat article! We had to tear all over town looking for copies of the paper but fortunately found some at the gym and the doctors' office.

The piece is called A Bungalow Refined, and gives an overview of our remodel. For those who don't know, our house looked like this until June 2004:




Then, 9 months later, it looked like this (for nicer photos, see the article):

We met Carol Blitzer, one of the paper's editors, at a party last summer, and she asked if they could feature our house. Naturally, we were quite flattered and said yes. They sent a photographer and a writer over, but we didn't hear back from them. After a month or so of scanning the paper, I figured the article had been rejected and stopped looking out for it. It was quite a nice surprise to see it come out after all!

Rub-a-dub-dub, We're all in the tub

(This was originally posted at the Silicon Valley Moms Blog.)

Our upstairs bathroom directly faces our next-door-neighbors' back yard. They are a childless, middle-aged couple who often give parties in their back yard. I've often wondered what they and their guests must think when bits of our bathtime conversation float out of the shower window and drift towards them:

Mama, take your panties off!

Mama, I want to be nudie with you!

Philip, I see your winkie. It's bigger than mine.

Yes, it's big like Daddy's.

James, help me soap my butt.

Daddy, where is mama's winkie?

No, we're not depraved, immoral pedophiles. We just happen to be a little casual about nudity and communal bathing. As long as it's only the five of us in the house, every door is unlocked and the children think nothing about wandering in and out of the bathroom when we're there.

I think it started when they were infants and went into instant Cry Mode whenever I was out of their sight. I would take them into the bathroom with me when I showered, placing them in their bouncy seats so we could look at each other. They were safe and happy in that steamy, warm bathroom, and I guess the open-door policy just continued. About two years ago, I discovered they were much more cooperative at bathtime when I would get into the shower with them. I get soaked anyway when I have to drag three whining, uncooperative kids into the bathroom and clean them, so I might as well get clean myself and three happy kids at the same time.

It's really not such a big deal, is it? Going topless is considered normal, not risque, in beaches round the world. In many societies such as Japan and Finland, whole societies bathe together and nudity in public baths doesn't raise an eyebrow. I rememer going to summer camp in England when I was eleven and being shocked that European girls my age wore only bikini bottoms to swim instead of bathing suits.

I realize that every family is different and I make no judgments. I personally never saw my mother naked until I was in my late teens (and then only because she forgot to lock her dressing room door). I always people glancing in the summer when I strip my twins naked by the poolside in order to put on their trunks. A friend of ours never bathes his two girls and confesses that he feels uncomfortable even being in the same room as them when they are undressed (his girls are 3 and 4). Modesty is not the only reason; in this day and age, it is not unheard of a chance remark by a child to lead to accusations (sometimes mistaken, sometimes correct) of sexual improprieties by the parent. It is no wonder that many fathers are cautious about overstepping boundaries.

I realize that we will probably want to change our habits when the kids get older. The last thing I want is for my daughter to be embarrassed when her brothers start telling everyone what kind of underwear her parents use. Or have my sons host a sleepover and see me walking around in Victoria's Secret negligees in front of their friends. As they grow older, we want to respect their right to privacy and their ability to control access to their bodies. But even when we start locking our bathroom doors to keep each other out, we can still manage to promote a healthy, open and casual attitude towards our bodies.

Weight Update: 1 lb. down

This week was tougher; I lost just 1 lb. But given my dramatic weight loss last week, that's to be expected. More importantly, I've broken the 150-lb. mark, something I haven't done in almost 5 years! So I'm quite excited and motivated to keep up the good work. I'm still working on portion sizes and water, but I think I'm doing really well on eating more fruit. Next up: I'm going to try doing more stretches, at night when Graham does his PT for his shoulder. It'll help tone up my muscles and we'll get more "couple time" together.

I've discovered something that could very well become a good friend: Kashi GoLEAN Crunch. I've heard many good things about this cereal before, so I finally decided to try it. I was surprised at how yummy it tasted! Sort of a honey-granola-ey-crunchy taste. And it fills me up. Oh, and it's got all the good stuff -- whole grains, oats, protein, fiber.