Part II of Becoming a more 'Green' Mom

Kermit the Frog once said, "It's not easy being green." I hear ya little green dude. Looking around Oakland and San Francisco's Chinatown, and other various asian supermarkets, I still see pink and white plastic bags being used. 

Forgo those plastic bags and get reusable bags. 
They're sold at most grocery and department stores. If you want to remain a stylish mama, you can find some really cute and well-designed ones in boutique stores or online. My best friend gave me an Envirosax reusable bag for Christmas two years ago and I absolutely love it! I loved it so much I purchased several more and handed them out as Christmas gifts to my girlfriends the following year to encourage them to be 'green'. They roll up easily, can be stashed in your purse or diaper bag, and can be washed with the laundry.

Another way is to give up using plastic water bottles in exchange for steel or BPA free reusable water bottles. Yes, this will cost your wallet a bit of a pinch. Popular brands such as Klean Kanteen (which I use) are excellent alternatives and you can personalize the bottles too. I did, and gave it as a Father's Day gift to my husband and got my son (comes with the Avent sippy cup attachment) a matching one. Research which brands don't leak any residue or contain some unknown liner. They'll run you approximately $20 or so. You can finally cut back, or completely cut out, buying those Costco-sized water packs and worry about them taking up space in your garage or house. 

If I could salvage all the scraps of food my baby throws on the ground to play with, or the half-used, food-stained, dirty napkins/paper towels we use (currently trying to reduce this by using cloth napkins and dish towels), and fruit peels, and compost them, I would. Composting, like recycling, is a way to reduce, reuse, and recycle our "garbage". Unfortunately, our apartment building doesn't have a dedicated bin or area to allow us to. Perhaps if they had one, or I had a backyard, or frankly, more space to make my own bin, I'd be composting my "garbage of compostable material". 

Maybe Kermit should rethink his phrase. I just offered three more easy steps in "becoming a more 'green' mom". 

Baby steps to becoming a more "Green" mom (the first in a series of posts)

Filipinos don't like to waste. We use most (sometimes all) parts of an animal for consumption, reuse our cooking oil (a little extra flavor never hurts), use our old t-shirts as basahans (wash rags), and collect those hotel shampoos/conditioners/lotions to use as pasalubongs (other cultures have caught on to our secrets). So naturally you'd think we'd be the "green" kings and queens. Unfortunately, that's not the case. I'm still trying to convince my parents to practice being more 'green' these days.

First step into becoming a more 'green' mom is education. Take some time to learn about how your everyday consumption and lifestyle affect people today, and the world your kids will inherit. With all the nuances of being a first time mother, changing how we do things in our everyday lives is difficult enough without having to be conscientious about more mundane things. But some of our everyday practices are hurting our world and have an immediate negative impact on fellow human beings. Use the web ( I like this website especially), visit your local recycling plant/center for more information. 

Second, recycle! Recycling is one of the simplest, yet under utilized forms of being 'green'. It's only been in the past 10 years or so that businesses have begun to recycle products like aluminum cans, glass, and plastic bottles. Still, there are businesses that don't practice it. Use those recycling bins! One idea I have for those who have age-appropriate kids is to take them to a recycling plant/center in order for them to learn about the process and see what those materials become. Design a story about the trip to get them more excited and interested. They'll feel good knowing they've done something to save their planet, and you'll feel good knowing you're fostering awareness in them. If you want, you can go around your local eateries and offer to collect their aluminum cans and plastic bottles to recycle and earn some cash for yourself or for your kids.

**If you live in the Jack London Square or Lake Merritt area in Oakland, California, you'll be pleased to know there's a simple recycling center (Lakeside Recycling) on the corner of 4th and Jackson. It's a dirty area, so dress accordingly. You can drop off your aluminum cans and plastic bottles for cash. It's a great way to earn a little something on the side and kids can view the artwork displayed made from recycled materials. 

(We do have to stop using plastic bags in the bin. We do our best to reuse it.)

He will be, who he will be

My husband's grandfather has a great saying whenever a baby is born and people make a ruckus about who he/she looks like, he says, "He/She looks like himself/herself." That is true. My child, though he may resemble either my husband or me at any given time, is his own person.


As my son is growing up, I'm continually thinking inside my head how best to raise him. Precisely, how to make him aware of his dual ethnicity. I'm sure it's a challenge by those who are raising biracial children. I want him to feel completely at ease and secure when someone asks him about his ethnicity. In fact, I wonder what he would check if given a form wherein he has to identify either "Caucasian" or "Pacific Islander". He's both, you see. 
 

Food would be the first entry point in introducing him to his Filipino heritage. After all, food is the universal language. And I speak it well :) Yes, he'll eat filipino spaghetti (our version of the classic Italian dish, except we made it sweeter, by adding sugar, and put sliced hot dog pieces in it), pandesal, adobo, sinigang (it's my fave dish), kare kare, lechon, pancit, nilaga, beef steak, and the list goes on and on. Already, we fed him some rice and sopas de bola bola. Boy did he love it!


I plan to have him learn, speak, and understand Tagalog as best he can. Since I don't speak it fluently, I know his grandparents, my aunts and uncles, and cousins who do, will teach him and/or communicate to him in that manner. My Tagalog isn't perfect, but I do understand it and sometimes when I talk to my son, I'll switch from English to Tagalog to expose him to the varied sounds and tones. 

But my Filipino heritage is more than just food and language. We are a culture that focuses on family. We are hard workers (ok, I know some of us are lazy), we respect the home (remove your shoes and use slippers inside the house), and we love dancing (macarena, electric slide, the 'ocho ocho', etc.).  More importantly, we Filipinos know how to par-tay! We make every event a reason to celebrate (spoke your first word, got your first haircut, grew three inches, sure, let's have a get together!)

Apart from that, I have much to share with my son about the struggles I grew up with, everything from being an immigrant and assimilating to a new culture (I didn't even eat a hamburger till a year after my family immigrated to the U.S.  I stuck to McDonald's fries, according to my Dad), to explaining how American cartoons helped me learn English (see there is a good and valid reason as to how TV helps kids), and commiserate about how our culture is full of short people (the one factor I'm hoping I won't pass onto my children).

He'll enjoy the snow-covered winters (hopefully), whether it be on the East coast or up in Tahoe, and he'll see the colorful parols on display during Christmas and get to enjoy the putukan of New Year's in the Philippines. I want my child to have an appreciation for who his parents are and where we came from. After all, despite some obvious cultural differences, my husband and I want the same thing for our biracial child, for him to grow up healthy, smart, and happy.  

I myself am not 100% filipino, I have Spanish and Chinese blood. I know most Filipinos are a mixture of some form of that or other. Unfortunately, there are very few indigenous Filipinos left. My husband is an amalgam of European ancestry. So really, our child is a product of lots of culture, so to speak. More importantly, I hope I can pass onto him the best of my husband and I, regardless of our own ethnicity. 

Frozen in Time

Toys sprinkled our living room floor, "operation: nap time" failed, as my husband sat on the sofa furiously tickling our nine month old son, he turned to me and said, "Can we just freeze him like this forever?"


Ah, tender moments. We've had several since our son was born. Too many to count, but imprinted in our hearts and minds forever. It made me feel so warm inside to hear my hubby say that. And our son is at a truly fun age. Right now, he is incredibly active, extremely vocal, and all-around super cute. He's still a baby. Our baby. It's tempting to keep him this way. We forcibly cuddle him when all he wants to do is squirm out of our arms, he can't run away from us yet, babbles endlessly about nothing, has fat feet that are fun to grab, has a curiosity beyond belief (especially when it comes to food), there are so many enjoyable moments we want to hold onto at this stage.


At times he's growing up way too fast for me, and sometimes, not fast enough. My son is pretty independent when it comes to most things except feeding himself finger food. My pediatrician has taken to calling it, "I'm a Prince" syndrome. My son enjoys being fed his Cheerios, baby puffs, and pieces of cut up fruit. Yet, he'll play with our dog's dry food and pick it up and throw it around (thankfully he doesn't put it into his mouth, for which I commend him). So he's completely capable of the pinch and grab motor skill. 


I'll miss the way he stretches his arms toward me when he wants me to pick him up and hold him, or see that mischievous look he gets when I've asked him not to throw, step on, bang around, grab, pull an object (he still does it of course), or the way he laughs uncontrollably when his Daddy tickles him, or when our dog passes behind him. 


We'll continue to let him be a "Prince" for awhile. He'll be turning ten months before I know it and may be walking. Time is flying by. Yes, I too would like to freeze him at this age. 

Travel Tips with Mr. Tiny

There are plenty of blogs out there that offer great advice when you’re traveling with kids and babies. I list some on my blogroll you should check out.

If you plan on braving it and traveling with your baby, good for you! I commend you and hope you’ll continue to do it. People suggested we travel with our baby in the first six months. Why? They can’t crawl or walk yet, most can’t at least. You won’t have to worry about walking them up and down the aisles, or kicking the seat in front. You know, all those fun things you’ll get to enjoy later.

If you’re flying from one part of the country to the other, some say to take a red eye flight so that the baby will follow his/her sleep pattern. Regardless of what flight you take, it won’t really matter. What’s key is PREPARATION. Apart from making a list of what to pack, and checking it THRICE, and calling ahead to the hotel to make sure there’s a crib or pack n play to use, having baby’s passport, and the whole madness of getting ready for a trip, there are more important matters to deal with.

I mean, being mentally and emotionally prepared. I think mental and emotional preparations are just as important, if not more so, than what to bring on the trip. There WILL BE crying, maybe lots, or maybe little. Keep calm as best you can when fits or meltdowns ensue. Babies feed off our energy and the more stress we express, the more stressful the situation becomes. Apologize to those around you for how your child is behaving and tell them you appreciate their understanding and you’re doing your best. Any sane person will have room for some forgiveness. I’ve read on some blogs and websites, that parents bring candy or ear plugs to offer passengers when their child/children become unruly or inconsolable. That’s right, bribe ‘em. Remember, we were all babies, and I’m sure we had our share of meltdowns that our parents had to deal with.

Our little guy always handled airports very well. We made it a point to get there at least two hours early so he can acclimate to the environment and he can crawl around (I know airports aren’t clean, but when you have a mobile baby, you do what you have to, to make them happy—just make sure you clean their hands every now and then). Let the kid exhaust some energy before boarding. You’ll be thankful later.

Onboard, I usually bring at least two small toys and books (that easily fit into my diaper bag or carryon and won’t take much room,) to be used sparingly. You don’t want your baby getting bored of them already. Besides, there will come a point when “everything becomes a toy”. Magazines replace finger puppets, water bottles are cooler than teething rings, sugar packets become rattles, and you’ll figure out what keeps your baby preoccupied.

Before going to the Caribbean, I researched message boards to make sure they sold baby food

in the grocery stores, especially baby food he would eat. I brought enough food (not including the plane rides) to last the first three days of our trip, just for peace of mind. The rest of the week we were there, I stocked up on diapers and more baby food. Still, our wee one would get bothered by heat or craved what we were eating. I caved in, and gave our then toothless eight-month old, johnny cakes (fried dough), water from my water bottle (he hadn’t drunk from a sippy cup yet), and bread. You do what you have to and just make sound judgments about it.

Anticipate that traveling with your baby will be difficult at times, so handling those stressful moments will be easier. The more you travel with your baby, the more comfortable you'll be and so will your baby.

Have Baby Will Travel

sleeping during a train ride

My husband and I love to travel. We make it a point to try and leave the country and see the world. Where do we go? It's usually either a beach destination (to satisfy my husband’s need to be surrounded by water) and/or somewhere we can have a sense of adventure and a bit of culture. As stated in my earlier post, fortunately we got preggers quickly, when I thought we’d be trying for awhile. So I had planned a trip to the Yucatan Peninsula. Once my classes were over, we’d go. I had started planning early and when the news came that I was to be with child, I still expected to go to Mexico. And really we would have, except for my debilitating first few months.

Once my puke sessions subsided, we did travel to see friends in Los Angeles and went back East to visit my in-laws. I did this during my second trimester, the best time to travel when you’re expecting. You have more energy and most of your morning sickness should have disappeared by then.

Like the Travel Channel advertises, I have the “travel bug”. I’m always willing (99% of the time) to get up and go somewhere, anywhere, to get away from the daily grind. Lucky for us, we HAVE to travel, at least to see my husband’s side of the family on the East Coast. So when our nugget was ready, we took him on an airplane ride when he was 3 months old. My in-laws had come out to see us for my son’s Baptism and after that, we flew with them back (yes, I suggested that we do that, because just knowing we had extra hands on-board provided us some comfort for our first flight with the baby). And our son did exceptionally well. Yeah, he cried a bit, but no meltdowns and he slept for most of the ride. We didn’t, but that’s ok.

Naturally, that flight gave us the confidence to plan a short trip to visit friends in Seattle and Portland (visits that were long overdue) by ourselves with the nugget. Baby in tow, we made it. By the end of this trip, our son had traveled by plane, train, and automobile (he’s also been on a boat). I gave us a solid 5 stars of success.

playing with sand for the first time

Lucky for our son, and I mean, L-U-C-K-Y, he got the chance to travel to the Caribbean before he turned a year old. That’s right, we took a five-hour flight to New York, had a four-hour layover, and flew another four hours to the island of St. Martin/St. Maarten. That was just getting there. Our return trip had us going from the island, back to New York, another four-hour layover, then a two-hour trip to D.C. for a short visit with the grandparents, and back to California a few days later.

It was a great trip and learning experience for all three of us. Again, our nugget did really well. He’s become quite the traveler. I think it’s because he began traveling so early and became familiar and comfortable in confined spaces for long periods of time. Now I just have to figure out if he can handle a direct flight to the Philippines.

An Ode to My Husband

Yes, my husband deserves praises. Not because he changed our son’s diapers the entire first week of his life (as I recovered from my C-section), or he encouraged me to give up one feeding after the first month so he can bottle-feed our baby in the middle of the night to allow me continuous sleep, or the fact that the minute he comes walking through our door, after a hard day’s work, he seeks out our nugget and becomes primary caretaker for the next few hours, does bath time with our son, loves to clean, or helps edit my blog posts from time to time, no, it’s not those things.
 

He deserves praises because he gave me the best piece of advice a wife and new mother could ever hear. It came after a long day of caretaking for our baby who may have been 4 or 5 months at the time, and I was literally ready to lose it. I had called my best friend and vented, even cried a bit. My stress levels were at an all time high and I didn’t know how to bring them down. I wanted to run away. No, literally, I wanted to go for a run. I hadn’t exercised in over how many months and running used to be my release, my one activity I could rely on that always managed to calm my nerves and help me regain perspective. I craved the fresh air and hard pavement. My husband and I used to do races for goodness’ sake and my body was collapsing under the stress.

When he came home, I lost it and began crying and yelling at him. Yeah, it was uncalled for and probably freaked him out to see me like that. I was having my own mini-meltdown. He held me and said all those things you say to someone when they’re in dire need of help. And then he said, “Please go do something, anything. Take a drive, walk around the block, go for a run. Please. Take some time for yourself and don’t feel guilty, because in doing so, you’ll be a better mother for it.”

I needed to hear that and I needed to hear it from him. It wasn’t because I didn’t trust him with our son, but because I knew I would feel guilty in leaving my baby. But I needed my husband to assure me it was ok and that it’s what’s best for all of us. His support was crucial. He was my partner in crime after all.

Growing up in a Filipino household, I rarely saw my mom, if ever, take time for herself. She was too busy managing and maintaining a house, cooking dinner, doing the laundry, making sure the bathrooms were clean, and that my Dad got to rest when he came home. Everything was done for the family; there was no time for yourself. Unfortunately, my dad didn’t realize, nor offer her an escape from all that. One of the many things that I think lacked in their marriage and led to its demise. She could’ve used a few hours break here and there, regain her identity as a woman, and feel relaxed.

So now, I take any opportunity I can to spend some quality “me time”. I go for runs, get pedicures, take our dog for a leisurely stroll, or read a book somewhere in private. Or, my husband will take both our son and dog out of the apartment so I have the place all to myself. And that time allows me to reconnect, get refreshed, and miss them. So that when I reunite with all of them, I’m feeling much happier and lighter inside. Thank you honey! What do you do to de-stress?

*No, I didn’t write this post to make up for sharing that embarrassing “hooter hider” story. I did it because he came home last night with a lemon bar from Peet’s, which I love :) With any luck, I'll get another today for this post.

Breast is Best

August is Breastfeeding Awareness Month. Now, I can sing the praises of breastfeeding, but I do know how difficult the whole process is and how for some mothers it just doesn't work out. And there is nothing wrong with formula. However, I do feel it’s important as a society to support and encourage the mantra of “breast is best”. We are still uncomfortable with seeing women breastfeed (hopefully done discreetly) in public. With the all the “hooter hiders” out there available for us to use, or even a simple light blanket to cover ourselves, we do what we must to feed our baby. I think it’s this lack of support from other women and society that makes breastfeeding a “taboo” subject still today.

*Let me share with you a little story. I sent my husband out to get me a bebe au lait nursing cover. Remembering that they sell it at Nordstrom's in the baby department, he went by himself after work to get one. Yeah send a guy to do this. Once there, he couldn't find it. He apprehensively approached a young, twenty-something female and politely asked, with a straight face, "Do you know where they sell 'hooter hiders'?" The girl, probably confused and a bit embarrassed for him for using the word "hooter", didn't know and brought him to an older Filipino lady working nearby. Again, he had to repeat his question, this time trying to avoid using the term "hooter hider".

Hubby: Do you know where those things women use to like, um, those things, to cover themselves when feeding?

Filipino salesperson: What? (confused look)

Hubby: Those things. (now using his hands trying desperately to demonstrate) I think they're called "hooter hiders" (caving in to using the term).

Filipino salesperson: (eyeing him suspiciously) You mean, "nursing co-ber" (with filipino accent).

Hubby: Redfaced and speechless.

Yes, please send a man to do this, your husband, boyfriend, fiance, father, father-in-law, brother--it's just too funny. Make sure you tell them to look for a "hooter hider".

Most workplace environments don’t provide private spaces for working mothers to pump their milk. The company I used to work for didn’t have a “lactation room” (later to be renamed, “wellness room” so as not to isolate men from using it) til we moved to a new office building. The lactation room was a fairly nice room. It was tucked away, with a small sink and fridge to store pumped breast milk, and a comfortable and pricey recliner. Prior to that, my coworker used to have to lock the door of an empty office and pump for fifteen minutes, while the whirring sound of the machine could be heard everywhere.

My own experience with breastfeeding was not as traumatic as some women. Our nugget, upon birth, had low blood sugar so I had to supplement with formula via “SNS”(supplementing nursing system), which still allows a woman to breastfeed. I had to do this for a month or so. It was exhausting, but my son was breastfed.

The New Yorker, some months ago, put out an interesting article chronicling the invention of the breast pump and how breastfeeding was normally reserved for the lower class and formula feeding for the upper class. It wasn’t till 1997 that the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) realized and publicly supported women breastfeeding. Crazy huh? Twelve years later, even in other parts of the world, people are surprised that people who can afford formula choose to breastfeed.

Yeah, I can extol the virtues of having my son drink my milk, but more importantly, for those that are having a difficult time and want to give up, I say, please keep trying. I know it’s painful and frustrating. But there are many of us breastfeeding mamas around to support you in your struggle and want you to try and “stick it out best you can”. It will get better and easier, as with all aspects of motherhood.

If however, you feel you just can’t and have tried your best, then I encourage you to pump and still give your babies your milk. That way your child is still receiving the benefits of mother’s milk. I did struggle with breastfeeding in the beginning and have breastfed my son in public with a nursing cover. Awkward, yes. But the benefits far outweigh the snickers and stares. I think there is something created between mother and child when you breastfeed, that just cannot be replicated with bottle-feeding. I made the choice to breastfeed and I had the support of my family, husband, and best friend, which was key. I knew my son was receiving the health benefits of my milk, I was burning 500 extra calories a day, it was cheaper than formula, my son had unrestricted access to food (which also meant, I had to be with him most of the time), I didn’t have heavy bottles to prepare or lug around in my diaper bag, and I actually grew to enjoy it. Even if I couldn’t breastfeed, I would still encourage others to do it if they can. There were times I wanted to give up, and I did supplement with formula from time to time (depending on my milk production and his ever-increasing appetite), and my goal as of now, is to continue to breastfeed til he’s 1.

There are some medical professionals, and even the La Leche League, who are known to be a bit overbearing and zealous when it comes to breastfeeding. Perhaps their approach is too heavy and what a struggling mother needs is a healthy, calming, a little bit of “coddling”, environment. If she just can’t and you see the frustration and pain is too much, then praise her for trying and allow her to make her decision to pump or formula feed. There’s enough out there to divide us mothers, let’s not let breastfeeding be one of them.

*side note: I just want to take time to point out that Nordstrom’s provides such a baby-friendly mother’s room. It’s a great place to go and nurse comfortably, usually with other mothers. Sometimes it’s like a stroller party in there, where you’ll have 6 or more moms with their babies and strollers all vying for a small space to breastfeed. I only wish more department stores (like you Macy's) would provide a haven like that.

Best pieces of advice I got for first few months

I got LOADS of advice from my mommy girlfriends, my in-laws, my Titas, and even from complete strangers, about how to handle motherhood and all the pain and joy that accompanies it. I even had a Macy’s cashier whisper in my ear that sex is the key to get labor going. Yup, some kind old lady just had to share her secrets with me. Lucky me. When you’re pregnant, you’re like an empty journal, and everyone and their mama want to write on you.

The best (pieces of) advice and I actually will share with you two, had me really appreciate them. The first piece of advice came from my mother-in-law. God bless her, because she raised three beautiful children and managed to still retain her identity as a strong female. She told me, “Don’t judge motherhood in the first six months.” That is so key my fellow mamas.

Many changes occur within those first few months that you literally behave like you’re on autopilot. You are basically just trying to survive, not day by day, but moment by moment. I went from not thinking just two steps ahead, but to five steps ahead.

Me: I should do the laundry now while baby is napping and the music is playing so he can’t hear the loud sounds of the washer/dryer, and after that, I should pump. And then after that, shower, if he manages to stay down that long. But before that, I need to do this and that, so that later if this happens then this, and so on and so on.

Motherhood can become all too consuming and frenetic, that you can lose perspective too easily. Frustrations build, we become desperate in our attempts to quiet a crying baby, and end up taking it out on our loved ones—basically anyone within arm’s way. So let’s ease up on ourselves mamas. Because there’s enough on our platitos to juggle and we’ll end up wasting ourselves silly.

And things DO get easier. When people used to tell me that, I’d laugh and think to myself, “you don’t know my son”. In reality, our situations are no different than other mom’s. We all go through some form of suffering when dealing with our children. I remember when my son finally got a solid five to six hours straight of sleep, and I had to get up only once to do a “middle of the night feeding”. I applauded him. I applauded me. Our confidence as parents grew with each mistake and success. In the beginning, I was intimidated by motherhood and by my own parenting skills, even though it felt natural to me. It’s ok to second-guess ourselves from time to time; we just need to keep our sanity in check too.

My fellow mamas, let’s not beat ourselves if we fail to forget to feed our baby right on schedule, or yell at our husbands for no apparent reason other than we’re tired (and vice versa ladies), don’t make the bed everyday anymore, and the house looks like it vomited on itself. We have the important job now as parents to nurture and tend to the smallest, most innocent, has yet to develop their personality, our babies. All this can easily be overlooked during those first few months.

The other piece of advice came from a conversation between me and another mama when we were catching up with each other’s progress on our kids. My friend D said, “If I can give one piece of advice to any new mom, it would be to not get used to any routine.” Amen, sistah. Your routine with your baby will change about as often as you do your underwear. Ok, not that often. But as soon as you get settled into a routine with your baby, it will change again. They develop quickly and we have to learn to keep up and heed the signs of what’s happening and what needs to be done to accommodate these changes. It takes practice and patience, but YOU WILL get it.

For instance, my son used to have to be bounced (this means me sitting on a exercise ball and bouncing up and down till he fell asleep) or rocked in my arm’s to fall asleep when he was a newborn. And then as soon as he started his fourth month, he preferred not to be rocked or bounced. Recently, my son, who is fast approaching ten months, used to like to nap three times a day, is now more energetic, and needs two solid naps that last about one and half to two hours.

Though the first few months are always tough, you really wouldn’t want it any other way. The reason is because you are on a steep learning curve as soon as you pop your baby out and though we’re all students for life, nothing is harder than raising a baby. You learn more about yourself and your partner in those first few months, critical things. As women, we become experts at redefining ourselves from single girl, to wife, and if we choose, to becoming mothers. So we’ll continue to change along with our babies.

The Arrival

But despite those bumps in the road, I managed fine and still found moments to revel in the fact I was creating a human being. I couldn’t really grasp the real meaning of what it meant to start a family. I’d never done this before and so I was more excited than scared at times. My only fear, as the due date approached, was labor and all the pain associated with it.

Fast forward to the day my son was born. After an eventful morning and a long day of waiting till I reached the glorious “ten centimeters”, I handled my emergency C-section pretty well, if I do say so myself. I was TERRIFIED of having surgery, but I wanted them to do whatever they had to, to ensure the health and safety of me and my "Babah". He arrived at 9:20 p.m., on November 2, 2008, a healthy, and whopping (LOL!) 5 lbs. and 11 oz., and 19.5 inches, with all his ten toes and fingers, and a cry heard around the hospital. That's a picture of him up there in my wrap. He's a bit shy :)

Let me tell you something about labor and all the “after” stuff. Any ideas of immediately falling in love with your child upon first view, is a delusion (at least for me, and as I’ve found out, for many of my girlfriends too). It’s a romanticized notion. Yet you will fall in love, just not as fast as you think. Once you meet your baby, you are in shock from all the pain, fatigue, and the fact you just created a whole new being and an organ (that’s the placenta). You will just want to rest and catch your breath for a few minutes and absorb everything. Like, wtf just happened? Or be like me, I really, really wanted to see my placenta, but because they spent so long stitching me back up, my doctor forgot to show it to me. Why the fascination? Dude, it’s supposed to be like 2 lbs or something. I mean my baby lived in that for nine aching months, I just wanted to see his digs.

But there’s nothing quite like meeting the newest addition to your family like that first time. Tears will stream down your face when you hear your baby’s first cry. Giving birth is a miracle—and one crazy affair.

And we're still waiting

I managed to be the unlucky one out of my girlfriends when it came to pregnancy symptoms. I had MASSIVE, I mean, MASSIVE morning sickness. I basically lived next to the toilet. It wasn’t just vomiting. I felt my stomach contract and convulse due to all the throwing up. What was this tiny little being doing to me? He/she was much stronger than I, and much smaller. I couldn’t believe that little embryo was causing such a disruption and unpleasantness in my life. I actually disliked being pregnant. Yes, I love my baby, through and through. But I began to feel I was losing my sense of self.

Add to the fact I had quit my job the year before, and was at the time taking journalism and photography classes. Just moving around made me feel sick. I’m a pretty independent gal, and when I got pregnant, the baby really kicked my butt. I relied on my husband A LOT to get through most days. My poor husband had the unfortunate task of pulling my hair from my face and rubbing my back, as I puked repeatedly. He did this so obligingly. In fact, my puking became so commonplace that he would bring books and read while we sat on the bathroom floor with my head halfway down the toilet bowl (grody!!). This went on for 16 weeks!!! I couldn’t share with anyone, even my family, that I was pregnant yet. We wanted to wait till the first trimester had passed to relay the good news.

The ensuing months became a wondrous journey of the unexpected. Once my morning sickness subsided, I got carpal tunnel due to being pregnant. Yes, it’s possible. After having worked with computers for over eight years, not once did I get it, but as soon as my fifth month of pregnancy started, I got it. It was awful. At night I would wake suddenly and cringe in pain because my hands hurt like hell. Eventually, I wore wrist braces at night while I slept. There was no longing for ice cream and pickles, and I didn’t care much for sweets. This baby was taking its toll on me. In the meantime, we had divulged our big news to family and friends by the end of the first trimester. I was anticipating an onslaught of “free advice” from my family about Filipino superstitions and such about how to handle my pregnancy. Like, what’s good for me, what’s good for the baby, what’s bad for the baby, and what’s bad for me? Surprisingly, I didn’t hear a peep from my mom or auntie’s.

What? I began to think they didn’t understand that I was creating life inside of me. Didn’t they want to dispense some advice like, scrub your underarms with a grey stone to prevent discoloration, or cutting your fingernails past 9p.m. will mean that your baby will have ugly fingers, or some whack advice that is nonsense. They just were too overjoyed at the thought of them having a “mestizo” in the family. More importantly, they wanted to make sure I was taking care of myself, being careful going up and down stairs, ate well, and got plenty of sleep.

My hubby and I decided very early on (before we got married) that when we do get pregnant, we didn’t want to find out the sex of the baby (this would go for all pregnancies unless we got dealt with the “twin” hand). This in turn, led to many interesting old wives tales from my family, relatives, and friends’ parents as to the sex of our baby. I know, I know, everyone will have a guess based on how you’re carrying, whether the mom looks pretty or not (*may I just say that any woman carrying child is beautiful, even if she feels like s**t), etc. But Filipinos, ever the superstitious bunch we are, have various theories. For instance, many guessed we’d have a boy because I had discoloration on my neck and underarms, or because the baby loved to lean to my left side. Whatever the case, I entertained them all with a grain of salt and enjoyed the attention.

The waiting game

I had managed to successfully dodge the, “When are you getting married?” question for a few years. By successfully, I mean, I was able to take it in stride and not let my aunties, uncles, strangers I just met, get the best of me. When I finally found my “ONE”, I thought the questions would finally be put to rest. Instead, no sooner had I said my “I do’s” that the marriage question was replaced by the, “when will you have kids?” The answer of, “I’d like to take a year and enjoy being married and perhaps travel some more,” didn’t suffice. I had some people comment that I wasn’t getting any younger (when did 30 become old?) and that I should start trying right away. Mind you, even my beloved father jumped on that bandwagon. During the Father/Daughter dance at my wedding, he made it a point to remind me to not “wait too long”. Ughh, jeez Dad, I’ve only been married for about two hours.

I knew I wanted to have a family. I couldn’t let my dog Mochi be the only grandchild. Not that there’s anything wrong with my dog being a substitute, because he IS extremely cute and loveable. So I continued to dodge the baby inquiries for another year. And my husband and I did travel. We went to the Caribbean and Europe. And I did take a year to enjoy having it be just my hubby and me.

By the time we talked about starting a family, I got pregnant immediately. I wasn’t planning it to happen so quickly. We had plans to go to the Yucatan. While my pregnancy was anything but “beautiful and ethereal”, I still wanted to travel. I did a little. Not to the Yucatan though.

Mabuhay!

What does a thirty-something, Filipino born and bred, who just had her first child, have to possibly add to the world of "mommy-blogging" that hasn't been asked, addressed, redressed, or inspired? I'm asking myself those same questions. First off, I thought of the name of the blog and thought it was pretty cool. Second, I want to be able to do what other mommy blogs do. I want to inspire, inform, share, humor, whine about my kid, whine about my husband, or just whine. Hopefully, I can accomplish one of those things. The whining, I'm sure will come naturally, the rest, wish me luck. More importantly, I want to do it from the perspective of a Filipina, who is married to a caucasian, raised mostly in the United States (since the age of 4), product of divorced parents, is a cool "Ate" (so I like to think, but I'm sure my sister would state otherwise), currently a SAHM (that's "stay-at-home-mom" for ya'll), who left the highfalutin world of finance, to pursue her dream of writing about food and travel (which I do here), and now finds herself, entering the madness of mommy-blogging.

I'm sure I'm bound to offend someone (yeah, that includes you my friends and family). But what can you expect when sharing publicly, your thoughts, opinions, views about raising a family--especially a biracial one. So please join me as I explore topics relating to pregnancy, motherhood, life in general, being a Filipino mom, and all the stuff in-between.