Mothering Earthlings

Brad Who

2012-02-21T18:26:00.001+08:00

Gael: Who was your favorite boy classmate?

Me: Brad Pitt.

Aiden: Was he your classmate when you were little?

Me: Actually he was never my classmate, he comes out in movies.

Gael: You mean he is an actor?

Me: Yup.

Gael and Aiden: Oh. *yawn*

Me: He was the voice of one of the krill in Happy Feet 2 AND Metroman in Megamind.

Aiden: REALLY? The krill was funny.

Gael: That is soooooooooo cool!

Brad Pitt may have done The Fight Club, Inglourious Basterds, Seven and a gazillion cool non animated movies but not cool enough for the earthlings apparently.

What The Hell Was I Thinking?

2012-02-21T14:59:00.001+08:00

I don't usually get buyer's remorse, I love to shop. I was a shop girl for many years and I know what or what not to buy. I am aware of what will look good on me and what will make me look like crap. I can often tell if it is an item that will last or is a disposable one wear one washing item. But there are still those times that I look at my closet and think WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING????

Animal print is hot but zebra print sunglasses?

Toilet Humor

2012-02-17T13:09:00.001+08:00

Why do kids think poop is the funniest thing ever? If there were 100 kids in a room and one of them yells POOP! I bet you anything it will make the other 99 keel over with laughter. With the earthlings it only takes one mention of the word poop to set off a whole chain of not very funny and absolutely disgusting poop related interjections. Aiden is in the endearing age where poop is constantly in his thoughts, jokes, conversations and even his songs. It is much more than calling his brother a poopoo head or making silly and nonsensical poop jokes. He has made songs about poop. More precisely he substitutes words in sweet nursery rhymes and begins a total poopfest.

Twinkle, twinkle little poop.
How I wonder how you poop.
Up above the poop so high.
Like a poop in the toilet.

You get the picture.

As you can see from his terribly revolting song this new theme of his is not limited to poop alone, it includes toilets as well. Why the hell not go for the full effect, right? Just the other day he tells me that at school he invented a game for him and his classmates. They had to go inside the toilet, swim and the first one that comes out in the other toilet is the winner. When I asked him who won he said no one played the game. Gee, I wonder why? At Gael's football practice he supports his big brother by yelling GO TOILET! Loud enough for all the soccer parents to hear. Ummm, yes that's my kid with the toilet cheers.

It still doesn't end here. It seems poop thoughts have been heavy on Aiden's mind. He now wants to know scientific facts why poop stinks and why we have to do the deed at all. Apparently he has also done his own investigation and has come to the conclusion that there is a conveyor belt in his butt that makes him poop. Lastly, yes I will finally conclude this lovely post and put an end to your wretched misery if you've actually gotten this far, he has resolved that farts are poop bubbles without the poop.

Delightful, isn't he?

Current Obsession

2012-02-08T09:16:00.000+08:00

Aiden got the most adorable present from Eliza of The Painter's Wife. He squealed with delight when he saw it and immediately gave it a kiss. I had no idea she was so crafty! Thank you Eli for making the penguin obsessed earthling so happy.

Soccer Mom Duties

2012-02-07T15:13:00.002+08:00

I've mentioned probably way too many times that I have a sporty earthling that is crazy about football. I've told you all about his football fever, I've bragged about his winning, heck I've even claimed the life of a soccer mom. Well here goes yet another post about Gael and football. But before you think this will be ESPN-ly exhilaryawning this one is way better than the rest. I dare say even the best. I promise.

Gael trains one and a half hours twice a week and he is exhausted by the end of the day. I'm the last person to ask about sports but the drills and scrimmage seem pretty intense. Ninety minutes of training/cardio/exercise/aerobics/yoga I would think is a workout for an adult let alone a 6 year old. In the evenings, after he takes his shower, he is beat and looking forward to getting into bed. As you can imagine bedtime has never been sweeter and if I it weren't too cruel to make him train 5-days a week I would. Just like any workout it gets him all achy and sore. So much so that he started asking for a massage about year ago. At first he wanted to have one when my lovely masajista would come to kneed the knots out of my shoulders. Thai, Swedish, Shiatsu or any massage on a young child doesn't sound like a good idea to me. Instead I took being a soccer mom to the next level and offered to give him the massage myself.

He was in heaven and I was elevated to best mom in the world. For that brief moment the massage lasted at least. Then he started asking for a massage even on days he didn't have football, random nights which quickly became every night. Hold your horses there sporty spice. Thou shalt not abuse thy mother. I managed to negotiate soccer mom massage duties only to days of actual training, games or tournaments if I did the massage with oil. Because a massage isn't a real massage without oil according to him. So everything was in order, the routine was going smoothly and a sense of calm reigned in the Guerrero home. Until last night. I was giving Gael his foot rub at bedtime when he asks me if there is such a thing as a penis massage. Just like that. Out of the blue. With no warning.

I had to muster up all the maturity and parenting skills in me to not giggle and say "HELL YEAH!!!!! YOU BET THERE IS SUCH A THING AS A PENIS MASSAGE!!!!" In hind sight I should have told him to ask his father since I don't have a penis and I wouldn't really know. When in doubt pass the buck, right? But I was trying to be the mature adult that I am so what else was there to do than just ignore him, pretend not to hear him and redirect the subject as far away as possible. "That goal you scored this afternoon was soooooooo gooooood!!!!"

More on Vagdes

2012-02-03T14:41:00.000+08:00

My mom emailed me this picture thinking that I would find it funny. Thanks, Mama! You know me so well. I hope it's a Philippine brand so I can get them for the shop.

Shameless Plug Season 2

2012-01-27T18:40:00.002+08:00

Paco's show premiers this Sunday, January 29 at 9 a.m. on GMA News TV. Two Stops Over's What I See is for all you photogeeks and it's more fun in the Philippines believers.

What's That Weird Feeling?

2012-01-26T17:30:00.001+08:00

You know that feeling of sadness when your child has a birthday? I never really got what that was all about. Every year I am beyond excited to celebrate the birthday of the earthlings. Birthdays are fun and happy days when you get away with a lot of shit people wouldn't take from you on any other day of the year. Plus you get treats, presents, calls, texts and an avalanche of Facebook greetings. Kids get to celebrate their birthdays in school, at home, with a party and for our family a serious of Skype video calls. We all know that a party can only mean two great joys in life - party spaghetti that only we know how to make in the Philippines and birthday CAKE with dangerously loaded with icing. So what's the sulking all about??? What's there not to enjoy about your child's birthday??? They are obviously thrilled and bouncing off the walls with sugar overload. It doesn't get any better than that.

Then the strangest thing happened to me. The most uncharacteristic and peculiar emotion swept over me. No, that's not dramatic enough. It was more of a steamroll than a sweep. Last week I took a look at Aiden and felt this unexplainable feeling of heartbreak and nostalgia. Heartbreak and nostalgia? What the hell is going on here??? I certainly am not pregnant but could I possibly be menopausal? It wasn't Aiden's birthday or it isn't his birthday anytime soon. It was his face. His face has changed. Gone is his toddler face that I could cup in one hand. Gone are the chubby cheeks and baby rolls that jiggled when he laughed. Gone was his little head that fit perfectly in the base of my neck when I'd carry him to bed when he fell asleep in the car. He actually has cheekbones and a jawline when he smiles now. When he smiled that first time I noticed I there was that tug in my chest.

You know all those illogical questions/thoughts I ridiculed you sappy moms for? Well they came came rushing in.

How can this be happening?
My little Aiden is no longer a baby?
Where has the time gone?
Will he not be in love with me anymore?
Is he going to prefer his friends over me now?

So for all those times I made fun of your mushiness, for all those times I though you were being selfish, for all those times I deemed you as idiotic, for all those times your drama made me sick, for all those times I wish you got a grip. I apologize. I now understand that it is simply the other end of the same spectrum. The mothering end I usually am on is where I constantly have inappropriate, mean and scary thoughts.

Grow up!
I swear the next tantrum will be thrown by me.
What a selfish little brat.
Will you puhleez SHUT UP!
I need a fucking drink.

I hope I'm not on the cheesy side for too long though.

Football Again

2012-01-24T12:21:00.000+08:00

As if living with a penguin obssesssed child isn't enough to drive me insane, my other one is a football crazy one. Gael's thoughts and actions never stray much from this game. Football is a constant theme in his conversations, playtime, homework, books and even his clothes. He rarely ever wears a shirt that isn't a jersey, football inspired or from the Collezione collection of the Younghusbands. At home he spends a lot time practicing his slide tackles, reading up on his favorite players and figuring out the coolest way to celebrate a goal. Determination is key, right?

Vadge

2012-01-11T14:22:00.002+08:00

A cousin of mine had his first baby last month. I can only assume that Gael was all excited about the thought of a new cousin when he asked me in the car last week "So did the baby come out of Tita Hannah's vagina?". So far that is the only part of where babies are made that Gael's gotten to. Questions about sex always revolve around how you get the baby out. You can read more of our fun sex education talks here and here.

That would have been the end of that conversion had Gael actually said vagina. What he really said was bagina. It was more like BUH-gina. Being the daughter of an English Literature teacher there is no way I could let that slide. It's bad enough that he goes around telling his friends that babies come out of their mom's vagina's but it's absolutely horrible that he would say something along the lines "Hey, did you know that you came out of your moms bugina?". So the rest of the car ride went something like this.

ME: Gael, it's pronounced vagina.

GAEL: Bugina.

ME: No. Not BUH-gina. VUH-gina.

GAEL: BUH-gina.

ME: VUH-gina, sweetie, VUH-gina.

GAEL: That's what I said.

ME: No, you said BUH-gina. It's VUH-gina.

GAEL: VVVVVVVVVVUH-GINA!

ME: You got it! Good job.

Paco in the meantime is driving and giving me a WTF look, shaking his head and all.

21 Again Sale

2012-01-09T14:41:00.001+08:00

I love my birthday. I don't really know why I just do. This Saturday I turn 21 again and to celebrate I'm throwing a birthday sale over at the Mothering Earthlings shop. Stuff goes back to regular price in two weeks so hurry.

2012

2012-01-03T12:55:00.000+08:00

I stopped making New Year's resolutions a long time ago. Every single year I break it by February 22nd and by March 15th I've usually forgotten what it was I was supposed to be doing in the first place. Like that year I said I would work out three times a week and get some abs. Yeah right! Or that year I said I would stop eating rice. Who was I kidding? There also was the year I said I would be all namaste and not lose my temper. Never happened.

This year I got inspired by James Nave's words instead of resolutions. His is live and I want to DO! In 2012 I will be a doer. Don't mark my word though, I just wanted to put it out there for added embarrassment when I slump back to being a planner and forget about the doing bit.

Here's to a year that is bigger, better and brighter from The Guerreros.

Meet My Nephew Gieves

2011-12-29T10:50:00.000+08:00

Thought I'd introduce the newest member of the family to all of you. Hopefully with Gieves around the earthlings will stop asking for a dog. At least for a while.

Holiday Stress

2011-12-28T11:19:00.000+08:00

Will The Real Santa Claus Please Stand Up

2011-12-22T00:42:00.000+08:00

When I was 6 my older cousin, Enrique, told me the devastating news that Santa wasn't real. He wasn't just talking the talk about Santa he had the proof as well. You see his younger sister's birthday is close to Christmas and every year she had the best parties ever. It was a costume party and since it was December guess who came to town? Yup jolly old St. Nick. He came with his rosy cheeks, a sack full of gifts and a mighty, booming HO! HO! HO! The way I remember it we used to sing Santa Claus is Coming to Town to prepare for his, um, sleigh ride into tropical Manila and he used to ring a bell to let us know he was coming. It wasn't exactly a sleigh bell, more like an ice cream vendor's bell. Looking back now, how could I not have figured it out. No way in hell Santa would have the same bell as mamang sorbetero. As soon as I heard the faintest sound of the ringing my stomach went all woozy and I thought my heart would leap out of my chest. Every single guest got a present and I always got what I asked for. It was perfect. Until 1980 that is.

Turns out that Santa was the grandfather of my cousins on the other side of the family. Enrique was likely in on it since he was always picking on us younger cousins which must have put him on the naughty list every year. So I figure rather then him throwing a tantrum every year over not getting a gift they made him Santa's little helper. I guess they forgot to make him sign a non disclosure agreement.

Gael is 6 so I had a feeling the whole farce of Santa was coming up soon. I had a stinking suspicion it was coming immediately when I caught his friend punching the Santa on a stocking hanging on the stairs repeating "You're not real, you're fake. You're not real, you're fake." over and over. There are a few older boys in Gael's neighborhood pose and I am sure the younger ones were enlightened by the older ones. The older kids stop believing, stop receiving gifts so they destroy the fantasy for the younger ones so they aren't alone in their Santaless giftless misery. Infant conspiracy theory at it's finest.

That very afternoon Gael asked me the big question but it wasn't exactly the question I was expecting. Instead of asking me if Santa was a fabrication of desperate grown ups in an attempt to curb the rotten behavior of kids he gave me an even better option. He asked me "Mama, is Santa real or is he the spirit of Christmas?". Hallelujah! I don't have to break his little heart by telling him I am the one who buys the presents, I am the one who delivers them on Christmas eve and that I've essentially been fooling and blackmailing him about the non existent Santa all along. Gael gave himself the best answer. I would have had said something along the lines of Santa being a result of the commercialization of Christmas exploited by various industries. I'm beginning to like his version much better.

I on the other hand was a stubborn kid. It didn't occur to me that when Enrique told me Santa wasn't real it also meant the Three Kings were just as fake. I still believed in the Tooth Fairy and was the weird kid convinced Thumbelinas lived in my garden. Seriously. I was a late bloomer in the cynicism department.

School Break

2011-12-16T18:16:00.002+08:00

The earthlings are on Christmas break and they are loving every minute of it. They are making the most of all possible play, cartoon, activity time they can. You'd think they spent the first half of the schoolyear writing a thesis. You know those videos of the college girls and boys going wild, flashing their boobs and getting shitfaced drunk on spring break? Well we've got the preschool edition going on over here. Substitute the PG items with popcorn, chocolates, ice cream and Phineas and Ferb.

The past three mornings have been crazy noisy with the earthlings, their cousins and the neighbors playing police or fire fighter or superhero. Whatever the game is Aiden is never in the title role, he is either the villainous bank robber or the boy caught in the fire with his chameleon. I played fire fighter with them yesterday and had to save Aiden and his imaginary chameleon about half a dozen times before I finally got him to play something else. They take turns playing in each others' houses, raid each home's Christmas loot of cakes, cookies and candy.

Since every night now is not a school night they are taking full advantage. Aside from bedtime evenings are usually uneventful for them. But now their nights are exciting and they sure feel like they are taking a walk on the wild side. They get to go out and play in the street and playground after dinner, we can read two books each at bedtime and they get to sleep past 9 pm. They are so into their new decadent and wild night life even if after dinner playtime only lasts half an hour tops and they're eyes are drooping by 8.

They remind me of my guy friends who felt so wild during the summer of 1986 they ended up singing Duran Duran's Wild Boys in the street on their way home from the village park to one of their homes. With fist pumps in the air to show anyone and everyone that was looking they meant business.

You Snooze, You Lose

2011-12-14T14:27:00.001+08:00

On mornings Aiden gets up before us, which is almost always, he comes into our room, climbs into out bed and smothers us with hugs, kisses and cuddles. The perfect way to start my mornings. But the Hallmark morning moment doesn't last very long. He is that sort of person that wakes up, jumps out of bed and is ready to start the day. I don't know where he gets it, I am so not a morning person. I'm not ready to start the day until the afternoon. After he has done what seems like his routine cariño and gets his fill of hugs he quickly asks to watch cartoons. If it is before 6:30 am I always give in and sleep another half hour more. I know what you are thinking, I totally rock this whole mothering gig. I totally do. Without a doubt.

Lately though he hasn't been asking for cartoons anymore. And no, it isn't to get on Santa's good list. It's because of the iPad. Aiden does the usual climb into our bed and the smothering but disappears before I hit the snooze button the second time. I find him in another room entertaining himself with YouTube videos of Old McDonald or Five Little Monkeys in Spanish on the iPad. So like any good mom I tell him to just stay in my bed and watch cartoons. Of course he refuses since the iPad is his new best friend. After many mornings of seeing him walk out of my room all by his lonesome self clutching the iPad I feel so sorry for the poor guy. He has to go to another room all alone and wait for me to finally quit snoozing the alarm and haul my ass out of bed. The very next morning when I hear him creeping out of the room I tell him to just use the iPad on my bed.

He smiles at me and says "It's OK Mama, I need time alone with the iPad."

Let's Play!

2011-12-08T21:00:00.000+08:00

Whenever one of the earthlings gets into this position and says "Let's play!" I know it involves a trip down the rabbit hole.

Words Too Big For Kids

2011-12-07T21:56:00.001+08:00

Don't you just love it when your kids dish out killer one liners or use big complicated words in the right context. I try to watch what I saw around the earthlings but I am really bad at it. I would have totally sucked as a teacher. Aside from the usual swear words I say too often and the ~~gossip~~ stories that are of the PG18 sort, there are the words that seem ordinary but may not exactly be appropriate for their age.

Paco: Aiden, you should eat better.

Aiden: I eat all my food.

Paco: You should eat more than rice, pasta, carrots and hamburgers so you'll be healthy.

Aiden: I am healthy.

Paco: What you eat is not enough, you need to eat other vegetables and some fish to be healthy and strong.

Aiden: Nonsense! I am healthy.

It actually is true. Aiden is an incredibly picky eater and a total pain at meals. Despite his diet of carbs, carrots and sugar he rarely gets sick. (I sure as hell hope I didn't just jinx things by saying it out loud.) While Gael eats anything but eggplant and he has been getting sick a lot recently. He has had mumps, tonsillitis, chickenpox and several bouts of fever this year alone. Go figure!

Must muster the will to go full on vegetarian and follow in Aiden's footsteps.

Mr. Out Of The Box Steps Into The Box

2011-12-06T11:39:00.001+08:00

Fancy

2011-12-06T09:30:00.001+08:00

The earthlings are into things that are fancy. Or at least what is considered fancy in their 6 and 4 year old worlds. Yes, they live in separate worlds these two. I have no idea where they get it because if you see my family and home we are anything but fancy. Weird and strange for sure, but fancy never. Wherever we go, whatever we do, the event is assessed based on levels of fanciness. Something certified fancy is the equivalent of a quadruple thumbs up.

We love to eat out and they are thrilled when we are in a fancy restaurant. They get that kilig smirk and they swell with the feeling of being mature enough to set foot in such a fancy establishment. Restaurants that made it to their shortlist are Bizu, Cafe Ysabel, M Cafe and any restaurant in Edsa Shangri-la. Ironically their favorite places like CPK and Sumo Sam are not on the fancy list. A restaurant that serves water is stemmed glasses gets plus points for letting them use fancy glasses. Bread is another fancy indicator. The usually dinner rolls are yummy but braided bread sticks are definitely fancy.

Dressing up or down is also subject to the fancy meter. They are used to seeing me in ratty shorts and dresses but if I wear a maxi dress, max skirt or a silky top, I definitely enter the fancy zone. Rompers and harem pants not only are a fail in fancyland but they always get the "why are you wearing those pants?" reaction. When they see me getting dressed, they take a look at what I am going to wear and if they like what they see they ask me if they should wear their fancy clothes. Their fancy wardrobe consists of three crisp button-front shirts. One of them is actually a floral Hawaiian beach shirt but since it is not a T-shirt it's fancy enough.

Even words have various degrees of fancy. Fancy words are mostly sourced through foreign cartoons found on You Tube, especially those with English or French accents. Aiden discovered that supper is the fancy way of saying dinner and trousers is a fancy term for pants. The fanciest of fancy words is too fancy for me to ever use but apparently not too fancy for Aiden. According to him the fancy word for good is glorious.

HO! HO! HO!

2011-12-01T12:39:00.001+08:00

It's December 1st and as promised I'm going to get with the Christmas program.

Brag Book Giveaway!

2011-11-28T09:16:00.001+08:00

We are all beyond proud of our earthlings. We love their individuality, their unique style and the sometimes out of this world fashion statements they make. An earthling can always over accessorize, never mismatches and gets away with the funkiest combinations.

Mom Exchange and Mothering Earthlings are giving you the opportunity to brag just how unique your little ones are right along with us. Not only can you shamelessly brag about your earthlings, we’ll reward you for it.

All you have to do is log in Mom Exchange and upload your pictures. You can find detailed instructions here.

The most out of this world earthlings wins a T-Shirts from Googoo & Gaga and In the Crib, Proud Mama Funky Tubes and a tub of Indigo Baby Sun Is Shinning.

Balls

2011-11-23T14:25:00.001+08:00

The pool of balls is always a big hit with Aiden. It's sort of his chill spot in the crazy indoor parks where the kids seems to as high as people in a 1996 rave. The mere though of the ball pool must have OC Mom In Manila freaking out. They probably don't clean every single one of those balls. Ever. But I'll take fun, smiles and an early bedtime any day.

Party Pooper Alert

2011-11-21T14:56:00.001+08:00

It's that time of the year when I get that strange feeling, that overwhelming desire to give the Grinch a call. Manila needs to tone down the holidays a notch or two or ten. Christmas in this country gets ridiculous with a personal shopping lists of over 100, carols in the malls on the first of September, neighbors taking down their Halloween decor and putting up the Christmas lights in the same day, a total bazaar overload, an absurd number of Christmas lunches, dinners and parties to go to, and the inevitable gridlock of traffic it all brings.

Yes folks, I'm a big fat Scrooge. Christmas is only fun when you're a kid with all the toys or when you are a teenager that gets a long school break. But once you are an adult it should be illegal to go around making such a big deal of the hype, the presents and the ~~Christmas party dance~~ excesses of decadence, food and booze. I think that we all too often forget what Christmas is supposed to be about and overkill the whole merry making bit.

Even Gael and Aiden get caught up in all the commercial crap that goes along with the season. As soon as the first neighbor puts up the Christmas whatever, the boys start with the nagging/annoying/pressuring. When will we put up our decoration? We counted and there are 17 houses that have decorated. It seems every home we go to has Christmas carols to play. Of course I have none. With school in the equation, the Christmas list gets even longer. I don't ever remember giving every single classmate a present but apparently these days you do. This makes me even Grinchier than ever, especially since the gifts are far from thought out presents from one friend to another. If only the boys didn't get upset or feel out of place, I wouldn't buy any classmate (and many others) a gift. The amount of presents they receive is absolutely nuts. They each get something from my friends, my cousins, my uncles and aunts, my siblings plus the grandparents. It all adds up to a tower taller than they are. I kid you not. Opening them is a total frenzy. If a child would ever have a moment of temporary insanity, this would be it. Pretty much like the worst sugar rush on steroids. Half the loot I keep in storage and take out as needed throughout the year.

The holidays are always tricky for a Scrooge Mama like me. I am so not into it but I don't exactly want to ruin the Christmas of the earthlings. If anyone is supposed to have fun at this time of the year it is them. I may be Grinchy but I do remember how much fun Christmas was when I was a kid and I guess it is their turn. I want a more balanced version of things though. Sure they can get gifts but with gratitude, they can give gifts but out of affection and not obligation. Just the other day I was discussing this exact issue with a couple of my good friends who are the hugest brats I know. They were bratty when we were twelve and they are bratty at 37. The bratinellas themselves were worried that their own kids would get everything they ever wanted, feel as entitled as they did and be as bratty as they are.

Can you guess how many times I have to roll my eyes and bite my tongue these days? But I make a compromise every year, just so that the earthlings don't look back and think I made them have the worst Christmases ever. For only 25 days in a year, I will be jolly and merry, Santa believing and gift wrapping, heck I'll even Ho! Ho! Ho! if they want me to. Twenty five days. That's not too much, it's doable. So come December 1st I will put up the tree, sing some carols with the earthlings, wrap the shitload of presents and do all the Christmas ~~crap~~ stuff I have to do.