Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

Monday, May 12, 2008

bacon and jewels

I celebrated Mother's Day sans Amara.

Stupid bronchitis took me out of the loop all weekend long. And Dad2Amara needed to take Amara to see Grandma2Amara.

(Sorry Lola2Amara. Wish we could have spent time with you.)

But Dad2Amara and Amara made sure to make the most of the morning with me.

I was brought breakfast, complete with fresh bacon from my favorite market and a beautiful necklace.

Amara was told she could choose anything as her Mother's Day gift to me. And of course, my daughter chooses jewelry.

Love that girl.

I wore my necklace today. I'll take a picture of it soon. It's simply gorgeous.

But I'm going to have to train her...while I heart my necklace, a mom still needs some other necessities. I'm going to have to introduce her to Sephora one of these days.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

sure sign warmer weather's ahead


Dad2Amara cleaned off the grill. And tonight, we enjoyed his culinary expertise -- burgers and dogs.

I don't know what it is. But something about grilling just screams "summer's here!"

Helping us enjoy his feast were Lola and Lolo2Amara. While we waited for dinner to be served, Amara snapped this picture of them:


Notice the cleared tabletops. It's a horrible symptom of house selling.

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

reasons why the week could be better


  1. There's not one chocolate bunny I've met that I haven't liked.

  2. Even with five alarms set, I still can't wake up to workout in the mornings.

  3. Ramiele Malubay got booted off American Idol.

  4. I went shopping for a yellow shirt. I couldn't find one that I liked and could afford.

  5. Amara told Dad2Amara and I that she loves Grandma2Amara more than us. Fab.

  6. Lola2Amara's surgery is tomorrow.

How's your week going?

Sunday, March 30, 2008

out like a lamb

Has my life really just become a big cliche?

March came in like a lion.

And now it seems it's going out as a lamb. On speed.

No, life hasn't slowed down. It's just gotten crazier.

Amara and I drove with Lolo and Lola2Amara yesterday to see Aunt and Uncle2Amara in Columbus. We all wanted to spend some family time together before Lola2Amara's surgery.

Yes, the brain tumor is back.

I have always been open about my mother's illness. And Aunt2Amara and I know just how blessed we are that Lola2Amara surpassed her original diagnosis by years.

But even though we thought we were prepared, we weren't. At least I wasn't.

So now as I prepare to:

  • put the Yellow House up on the market (the realtor comes back this week with the official paperwork),
  • get ready for an out of town trip (did I mention I was part of a workshop for the American Medical Association? more on that later), and
  • simply get my health and fitness back in order
we are now prepping ourselves for a battle with cancer.

The gentle lamb has turned vicious. I'm just hoping now for a serene April.

Saturday, March 15, 2008

before she was mom


I don't know much about Lola2Amara, I'm embarrassed to say.

Yes, she's my mom. But her life prior to arriving in the United States in the 1970's has mysteriously been voided from our family history.

But because Lola2Amara celebrated her birthday this past Wednesday, I felt compelled to write a little about her before she was mom...inspired by this post on Blogher.

Lola2Amara's father stayed in the Philippines during martial law. His job prohibited him from leaving the country. Lola2Amara, however, decided to join her stepmother (Great-Grandma2Amara) in the United States, desperately hoping for a better life for their family.

Before leaving the Philippines, Lola2Amara was already a practicing nurse. She had graduated from school and was working in a local hospital. (Coincidentally, that's how she met Lolo2Amara. But that's a whole 'nother story.)

And that's the extent of what I know about Lola2Amara before she was mom. I know little about her childhood.

But what I do know is about her life after she was mom.

Lola2Amara would work evenings and weekends so that Aunt2Amara and I would not need a babysitter. She and Lolo2Amara would trade childcare duties.

Lola2Amara held managerial positions in nursing at a young age. And she was well loved by both patients and fellow nurses. Could be why I strive to be so successful in my career today.

Lola2Amara would throw the best birthday parties, making me the envy of all of my classmates. She was the type of mom who would bring McDonald Happy Meals in for each child.

And now, even when she's feeling sick, filled with the awful side affects of an evil cancer, Lola2Amara still fights because she is determined to stay in this world with Amara and the rest of her family.

I wish I could share with Amara one day the details of Lola2Amara's childhood. But I think I have pages upon pages of Lola2Amara's history that I think we'll be ok.

Saturday, March 01, 2008

it's snow wonderful

For a variety of reasons (tragic event, staffing, and because I'm a glutton for punishment), I found myself at work on a Saturday.

But leave it to Dad2Amara to make the most of his day with Amara.

We all know I'm not an outdoors girl. So frolicking in the snow is not my thing.

But it sure makes for a good dad-and-Amara day.



But because I missed all the fun, there was no one who could take pictures of the duo having a good ol' fashioned snowball fight.

Amara had a blast.

Dad2Amara? He's sore. Man, we're getting old...

Monday, February 18, 2008

one last tribute

Mom2Amara note: I was unable to speak at my grandmother's funeral as I had asked. But because of all the funeral day drama, I still wanted to give my last tribute to Great-Grandma2Amara. I write for a living, yet I could not come up with the words for an appropriate tribute. But hopefully this will give you some glimpse into what a wonderful woman Great-Grandma2Amara was.

If my Grandma were standing with me today, she would be a bit miffed. She would be all smiles because we are all together. But Grandma never liked to be the center of attention. That was Grandma. All that really mattered was that her family and friends remained close.

Grandma would pack her suitcase weeks in advance of a family trip. That’s how excited she would be. It was the prospect of traveling to a new place. It was the thought of being surrounded by family.

And if Grandma had plans to have lunch with her best friends, this would also take weeks in the making. Why? Because Grandma would need the perfect outfit, right down to her shoes. And that usually meant one – or two – trips to the mall.

But there was so much more to my Grandma. Grandma was an extraordinary woman. She was selfless. And she never met a slot machine she didn’t like.

In true matriarch fashion, Grandma quietly supported our family. When we were younger, Grandma would monitor our report cards and interrogate our parents about our boyfriends. And now that we’re older, Grandma became savvy enough to surf the web and check up on all of us in a new way -- by reading our blogs.

Grandma would tell her friends about her granddaughters and how we all married “Americans.” She told them the American guys outnumbered the Filipino guys. But it didn’t matter to Grandma. Why? Because she said the Americans were “all nice” to her, an old Filipino grandma.

Grandma endured a lot in her lifetime – leaving the Philippines, breaking racial barriers in a tumultuous Midwest, then dealing with her own deteriorating health.

Yet through it all, she remained strong and triumphant. She remained undeterred. She was a stoic woman. She admitted that pain was “relative” to her.

I looked up to her so much that I named my own daughter Amara Faye after my Grandma Fe.

Not one to show her emotion, Grandma was beyond doubt an unsung hero. When my mom was diagnosed with cancer, Grandma stood tall. She was my rock. She consoled me. And my Grandma helped me believe we could fight the disease that would ultimate take not my mother’s life but hers.

Grandma’s caring nature was also evident in her work as a nurse. She dedicated herself to the patients of one hospital for over three decades. She was not one to boast. But one teenage patient was quite memorable for Grandma. The girl was comatose. And Grandma took care of this girl as if she were family. Then one day, the girl awoke. Grandma was convinced she had a hand in this miracle. And I am sure my Grandmother took care of every one of her patients with the same compassion and loyalty.

Yet there was still so much more to my grandmother.

Grandma played classical piano without sheet music. She once aspired to be a concert pianist.

Grandma made the best palabok and pitsi pitsi without recipes.

Grandma knew every character on SpongeBob Squarepants because she would watch cartoons endlessly with her great granddaughter, the duo snuggled up on the living room sofa.

And Grandma wrote for her high school alumni newsletter. She even mastered the mystifying world of Windows in order to submit her writings.

Her first essay was titled “Reflections on Life.” I’d like to share a part of it with you today.

Close your eyes and imagine yourself sitting on top of a boulder on a moonlit night. Nearby is a river with its icy water rhythmically lapping against your bare feet. Listen to the sounds of crickets chirping, frogs croaking and tree leaves rustling by the blowing of a crisp, soft breeze. Gaze a bit further at a sight so awesome where thousands of fireflies appear to have set a tree ablaze with their lights, appearing like stars falling out from the sky. Take a deep breath, fill your lungs with the pure air and in an instant, you will feel as if your spirit is soaring upwards, embraced with all this beauty around you.

Grandma says she experienced this magical moment while working in a remote barrio in the Philippines.

Grandma, today, I hope that same calm, that same peace, surrounds you.

I hope your spirit is soaring upwards, embraced with all that beauty around you. Just promise to remember to look down once in awhile to watch over us.

We love you Grandma. Mahal kita.

Sunday, February 03, 2008

imagine you're on a tropical island

We were nearly a year ago...

Monday, January 28, 2008

a personal invitation

Amara loves her "big sister."

No, I don't have another child that I've been hiding from all of you.

Amara's big sis is my cousin's daughter.

And because they live hundreds of miles away in Canada, we rarely get to see them.

Could be why Amara's been insisting I mail this "letter" right away.


If you can read it, it says "Maya," "Jackson" and "from Amara."


This part instructs her "siblings" to call us.

The next part I could not understand. Until Amara translated it for me.

She wants her sister to bring her American Girl doll for a visit.

So cousin, what do you think? Are you still coming out for a visit in March?

Sunday, January 27, 2008

lost in translation

While I am recovering from surgery, Lola2Amara is staying at the Yellow House to help Dad2Amara with household chores and to keep Amara in check.

But there was one point last night that I wished my mom was not staying at our house. She actually caused me pain. Physical, excruciating pain.

It's no secret that I want Amara to learn Tagalog.

My family tries to sprinkle our conversations with her with my parents' native tongue so she can pick up a phrase or two.

Lola2Amara wanted to teach Amara yesterday "mother" and "father."

Nanay -- the Filipino word for "mother" -- was a cinch for Amara.

Tatay -- the word for "father" -- was not as simple.

The word is pronounced {tah-tie}.

So at first Amara was saying Popeye. As in the sailor man. As in the spinach lover. As in the husband of Olive Oyl.

I had visions of Dad2Amara with a pipe, anchor tattoos, and bulging biceps.

And I couldn't stop laughing.

So Lola2Amara tried to correct Amara. But she still didn't get it.

She ended up calling Dad2Amara patay -- the Tagalog adjective for "dead."

I was laughing so hard, I had tears in my eyes from the pain it brought. And that only made me laugh harder.

Hopefully today Lola2Amara will take a break from her Tagalog lessons.

There seems to be something lost in translation...

Cross posted on Filipina Moms

Tuesday, January 01, 2008

New Year's Eve overindulgence

To ring out 2007, Dad2Amara suggested we all go out for a fabulous dinner.

And I am not one to turn down food.

So we load into the Blue Mom-mobile and head east to a favorite Italian restaurant to celebrate the end of a good year. Although it's beloved, we hadn't eaten there in years.

See, while Dad2Amara and I were dating, we would eat at this great local Italian joint. It's original location only had about 10 tables.

We've literally waited hours outside the restaurant to order our meals. It's. That. Good.

They moved to a new, larger building while we were still newlyweds. And there was still a wait. It's. That. Good.

Then Dad2Amara and I built the Yellow House 45 minutes away. So our trips to the restaurant were few and far between.

But during one of my Christmas shopping expeditions, I happened upon a new restaurant. It was our restaurant. They were opening a second location just minutes from the Yellow House.

And that's where we landed on New Year's Eve.

I was apprehensive taking Amara to dinner here. Think fine dining.

But it is a family joint. And they stayed true to their word.

Think fresh garlic rolls dripping with butter. Freshly made Italian wedding soup (no vats of broth sitting all day). Frutti di Mare with scrumptious scallops, shrimp, clams, and mussels over linguine. White pizza that Amara devoured. Veal in a terrific lemon butter sauce. Tiramisu to die for.

It was enough food for a family of eight.

And we ate it all.

I call it my last supper.

My trainer thinks my weight loss has been stalled not because my lack of trying but because I eat crappy. But that's a whole 'nother story...

Sunday, December 30, 2007

the family this holiday season

Christmas with Lolo and Lola2Amara and Aunt and Uncle2Amara was low key this year.

And that meant less stress for Mom2Amara.

But it didn't mean less presents for Amara.

Amara got lots of cute outfits from Lolo and Lola2Amara (which were much needed since the week before Christmas Amara went through a growth spurt and was busting out of all of her clothes!)

In true Filipino fashion, Amara got a karaoke microphone. She has already used it to show off her vocal talents.

And perhaps one of her most favorite gifts this season came from Aunt and Uncle2Amara -- a scooter for her American Girl doll. It's no coincidence Amara named her doll "Leslie" after her favorite aunt!


Sunday, December 23, 2007

she's so going to elope

Amara is not the church going type.

Sinner nor saint, Amara just can't seem to focus when inside the sanctuary. I just can't see a church wedding in her future.

Dad2Amara took all of us on a holiday lantern tour last night. The air was crisp. And the sky was clear. It was a beautiful December evening.

The candlelight tour takes visitors back to 1862, visiting homes getting ready for their Civil War-era Christmas celebrations.

Amara enjoyed it. And her from-the-mouth-of-babes remarks made even the reenactors laugh.

(Picture it: the actor is describing how as a child, her father would not allow a Christmas tree in their home because it was "too" German of a custom. Now picture Amara yelling: "Hey Dad! We're German!"

Or try scenario number two when another family was describing their holiday customs and Amara interjected, "Did you know that some people celebrate Kwanzaa too?!")

House after house we hit. And you could tell Amara was really into the 19th century interpretations.

Then we arrived at the village's church.

Amara could not sit still. Her swaying feet would knock into the pew, causing a loud thud throughout the church. She complained about being bored.

Dad2Amara and I tried to get her to stop.

Even the pastor's stern looks did not scare her.

After what seemed like ages, the presentation at the church ended. And we made our way to the next house where Amara again as the perfect angel.

Seems no matter what century we're in, Amara and church do not mix.

Monday, December 17, 2007

he can't dress, she can't keep a secret

I know. I know. I've been gone awhile.

I can't tell if it's the holiday crazies or the the crazies at my work. But my laptop and I have been separated for far too long.

So thanks to all of you for being so patient. And thanks to Todd, Karmela, and Susan for the not so subtle hints to get back to blogging.

What's going on with Mom2Amara?

Well, with the exception of one gift, all of our shopping is done. And when I say our, I mean "our."

See last Friday, I was lucky enough to leave work a few hours early. And again, I was racing to pick Amara up from school. That poor girl. When I'm on school duty, she's always the last kid standing. But I digress.

I show up at school to see Amara -- wearing a ribbed v-neck sweater, striped with every color of the rainbow. And to go along with her colorful ensemble, she was wearing a pair of jeans with pink patchwork.

She. So. Did. Not. Match.

Dad2Amara dressed her. Fashion plate he is not.

And Amara's response when I questioned why she didn't match: "I told Daddy. He didn't listen."

Fantastic.

So I take my mismatched child and we go Christmas shopping. I was hoping to beat the crowds. But no such luck. Seems everyone left work early.

While standing in line, I comment again on Amara's outfit. And she tries to explain how her Daddy wouldn't listen. Just like Dad2Amara wouldn't listen about the purse he should buy me. And just like at the jewelry store when Amara wanted to buy me the necklace in the middle but he choose earrings instead.

Excuse me? What did Amara just say?

Oooops. Seems Amara can't keep a secret very well.

I haven't told Dad2Amara that his daughter slipped. I hate to ruin the surprise.

But just goes to show, you can't trust a four year old with Christmas secrets.

Saturday, December 01, 2007

an easy 40 bucks

Dad2Amara was invited by the Dean at his college to a holiday dinner party. He insisted I come along.

Wheee. You should hear the excitement in my voice.

While I'm getting all dolled up, Amara enters my bathroom and starts mouthing off about her dinner.

I had ordered pizza for her and Babysitter2Amara so what's there to complain about? With Amara, nothing was right.

I sent Amara to her room and continued with my makeup. I'm all ready to go.

Babysitter2Amara arrives.

And Amara's fast asleep in her bed.

Five hours later, Amara is still fast asleep in her bed.

That's the easiest $40 that babysitter will ever make!

Saturday, November 24, 2007

Santa from a mom's perspective

Touring the outskirts of the mall for 25 minutes in search of a parking space: 10 years off my life

Waiting in line as the family in front of you takes dozens of photos of their ugly children who refuse to smile: another 10 years off my life

Having a great picture of Amara with Santa: priceless

There's just some things money can't buy. Unfortunately, everything Amara has asked for requires cash. A lot of it.

Thursday, November 22, 2007

giving thanks

I am thankful for today:


  • Amara, who has graciously shared with me every detail of her young life, including the cold she brought home from school this week.

  • Dad2Amara, who has a mom who can cook a mean Thanksgiving dinner...meaning neither he nor me have to cook on a holiday.

  • My job, and being able to insure having the day off!

  • My cousins (this one, this one and this one) for understanding why we had to cut out on our pre-Thanksgiving dinner. Hopefully we'll get to see you again soon!

  • A roof over our heads

  • And our health


What are you thankful for?

Have a great holiday!

Sunday, November 18, 2007

dimming the lights on Black Friday

Ever since I could remember, I have gotten up at the crack of dawn to join the ranks of crazed shoppers on Black Friday.

It began as an annual tradition with Lola2Amara. As a child, Lola2Amara would drag us to Gold Circle, Higbee's, and Joseph Horne's.

I was quite familiar with the mall. When Lola2Amara would work weekends at the hospital, Lolo2Amara would take us to the mall so we could walk off our boredom. And Lola2Amara enjoyed wearing the latest fashions from Gloria Vanderbilt, Esprit, and Sassoon. So Black Friday was just another excuse to bust out the credit cards.

As I aged, I grew to be more particular. Beginning the first week of November, I would log onto specialty websites, searching for Black Friday secrets. I then would spend the hours after Thanksgiving dinner scouring store circulars then mapping out a game plan for the next morning.

I haven't missed a Black Friday in years. Even Amara has already participated in two Black Fridays, getting up at 5 a.m. so we could be in line at Toys R Us by 6 and Best Buy by 7.

I expected this year to be no different.

But as I check out Black Friday ads, I'm left wanting more. Maybe my tastes have changed. Maybe I just don't care.

If I wake up early this Friday from my turkey coma, you won't find me at Target or the mall. Look for me at the gym. I'd rather lose calories than my sanity.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

washer? I barely knew her!

Dear washing machine, we barely knew you.

You were just four years young. In that short time, you've seen intimate parts of our family. You lacked style and finesse. But you got the job done. And you promised to stay with us 'til we left the Yellow House.

So now I am bitter. Angry you have left us all too early. Sad that loads of laundry sit idle on my bathroom floor.

Your premature death has left me penniless - my new running shoes now must wait. So too must my new kitchen tools.

I curse you now. And look forward to tomorrow when the Lowe's delivery guys take you away.

Signed,
Mom2Amara

Friday, November 09, 2007

guilty as charged

A month ago, I stumbled up this.

"Guilt is also a great motivator, she said. Many parents work long hours and may feel less guilty about it if their kids have the best - and most expensive - of everything."
Oh. My. Gawd. I've become one of them.

I'm trying to buy Amara's affection.

I'm not accustomed to long work hours. I was fortunate enough to leave those days behind when I became Mom2Amara.

So when I decided to accept this new job - which is going fabulously by the way - I knew changes were in the works for our family dynamics.

But I never imagined I would be paying my way thru a guilty conscience.

Amara now owns a pair of cute new tights, a new outfit, snow gear (remember, Mom2Amara hates the outdoors so she'll probably never wear the stuff), and has picked up more Happy Meals than I care to admit. All in the last seven days.

But as I am now ending week two at the new job, I am definitely reminded that I love being a working mom. Hours may be long. But I feel accomplished knowing I'm making a difference thru my work and by being a role model to my child.

Now if only I could keep some of that new pay in my wallet instead of over-compensating when it comes to Amara...