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The one who keeps me calm

TAG-MNL.


I landed in Manila with high hopes as the plane arrived from Bohol at 2:25 p.m., 20 minutes ahead of schedule. That quickly changed when it took me 2 hours to get out of Pasay alone, and another two to get home to Fairview. I paid a whopping P430 to get from the airport to Centris Quezon Avenue, which is normally about the same amount I pay from Fairview to the airport. I could’ve flown to Bohol and then back to Manila then back to Bohol again with all the time I spent on the road. Horrible would be a sore understatement to describe the Friday traffic.

On an ordinary day, I usually wouldn’t mind. It takes me three hours or more to get to work everyday so another hour to that is nothing I haven’t experienced before. But today was different, I hadn’t seen my daughter in three days and there was nothing else I wanted more than to catch her awake. I thought if could get home at around 5pm, I would probably catch her walking around outside. But when I was still on Edsa approaching Magallanes by 4:30 p.m, I started honestly wanting to punch somebody or break the damn windows. I bitched at pretty much everybody who tried to calm me down over the phone and started spewing expletives on social media. Later on, I had no choice but to break into tears because there was no other appropriate emotion I hadn’t used yet. All because of sheer frustration over wasted time could’ve been spending with Elle.

But when I got home and finally saw her, it was like all that pent up rage from an exhausting day had evaporated in a instant. I’m not even exaggerating. I know myself—piss me off in the morning and I’m no good for the rest of the day so I thought it would need a good night’s sleep just to get over this terrible “welcome back” moment. But it turns out, all it needed was Elle’s most charming smile. Ironic how Elle can drive me nuts then be the only person who can calm me down. (Now bookmark this page if you ever need to pacify me. Secrets revealed!)

 

Giving Elle a bear hug (which she hates).

Elle then showed off some new dance moves she learned while I was away and her steadier walk. I’m certain she gained a little more weight, judging by her huuuuuge tummy and chubby cheeks! Crazy how three days could seem like such a long time when you have a growing kid. We spent 30 minutes running around in the sala before she started whining, which meant we needed to go up.

Booty work

When it was time for bed, Elle wouldn’t close her eyes. As if the universe was trying to make amends for the disaster today, Elle even spent an extra hour and half past her bed time just lying down on my left arm while watching TV, giving me the chance to stroke her hair and tell her about my trip before I finally put her to bed.

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A dream first birthday party gone wrong

We’re a week away from Elle’s birthday party and I feel like I haven’t gotten anything done. Not that there’s a lot to do; We scrapped plans for a relatively grand party (grand by our lowly standards) and we decided to have a simple get-together with our closest friends and family. Since Jan won’t even be here to celebrate with us, there is really no point on spending a fortune. But we still want everyone who cares about my baby to see her. (See you, guys!)

Of course, if I could, I would throw something grand for Elle. Anything fit for the princess that she is. But when you’re living on a smalltime writer’s paycheck, there’s no way that’s going to happen, at least for now.  So I had to let go of all my party envy, which I blame on Pinterest. (EVERYTHING JUST LOOKS SO PRETTY AND EASY ON PINTEREST).

My subconscious, though, wasn’t going to let me get away with it that easy. Of course, it said, let’s give this overthinking mother a glimpse of her dream party for Elle—only, everything that could go wrong, would go wrong! THE HORROR. It was actually the most vivid dream I’ve had in a long time, and I woke up feeling like I didn’t sleep a wink.

Here was how my nightmare went down:

It was such a perfect set up but nothing was going right!

Elle’s clothes for the party were all filthy but she had to wear them anyway. Less than half of the people I invited showed up on time!

The venue was not decorated and someone got Elle’s name seriously misspelled on all of the banners.

When it was time to eat, we started serving cans of sardines because there was no rice! (I mean, WHAT?)

No one served the dessert because it was buried under some random boxes! (WHAT IS PARTY WITHOUT DESSERT?)

When the all guests finally arrived (weirdly, they were all in ballgowns), there was no more food on the table and I didn’t have money to order some more.

When it came to the parlor games, I apparently had forgotten to buy prizes. I decided to go out to get some from the nearest conveniences store, but when I got back, the party was over!

THANK GOD IT WAS JUST A DREAM.

This just really proves one thing, my brain has too many tabs open. WAY TOO MANY. Well yeah, I still had to do even just a little planning for Elle’s thing. I just feel like I still want her to have a perfect celebration, though it’s nowhere near what I really wanted for her . However small or simple, I’d still want it to go off without a hitch.

I know that’s never going to happen, though. As with all parties (I learned the hard way with my self-organizes wedding and Elle’s Christening), it’s never going to be perfect. For starters, not everyone you’re going to invite is going to respond to your invite let alone attend the actual thing  (and you have to prepare not to get disappointed). Another is not a lot of people are going to remember the little things you did. Most won’t even remember what kind of table centerpiece, which you probably spent tons on, you had.

Despite know all these things, I can’t believe I’m still obsessing. Though I admit it’s totally me to overthink everything, up to the tiniest detail even of such a small get together. I’m not even a good, creative planner! I’m just totally a momzilla. Thanks for reminding me, subconscious!

What I should remind myself is that Celestine is going to turn one (and so on) and it’s going to be the best thing to happen to me every year—no matter how we celebrate it.

One things for sure though, we won’t be serving sardines to any of her parties…ever!