Memories of Film Crit

Memory # 1

I remember reading Antonio Sison's  review of the Italian film A Beautiful Life in the Catholic magazine, Kerygma. I was in High School then. I was impressed with the way he wrote it that I also looked for the movie. Sadly, I managed to have a copy but in Italian - it didn't have any subtitles. But I did understand the movie's plot. I supposed reading that article was my introduction to film criticism and when I started becoming interested in this field, I looked up Antonio Sison's name and I'm glad that his other film reviews are available online.

Memory # 2

I watched the movie the Amazing Spiderman with a friend in college, and I remember cringing at the movie's plot and the actors' acting chops. I told myself I was going write something about the movie but it never materialized.

Memory # 3

I remember watching Toy Story 3 in 2013 and ended up crying at the ending that I started writing about it. I still didn't know how I was going to go about the essay that I ended up not finishing the whole thing.

So here I am as a film critic wannabe. Everytime  think about those memories, I wonder why writing about films never occurred to me right away. After years of wondering what I was going to write about, I recently just heard my calling. The skies didn't open and no chorus of angels came out. It just hit me one day that I have a knack for criticism. I could write book reviews but I can't finish a book in one sitting alone because I now have a demanding baby, but with a movie, you can give me 3 hours and I'll be done with the movie and THE review.

I am reading other film critics' work notably Roger Ebert and his correspondents, so I could improve my craft. But man, if there's a so-called room for improvement, mine would be as big as a mansion's.

MILK by Noemi Weis

When a baby arrives to this world it brings us great emotion. We know that we are bringing a new life into this world. It is a victory.

Noemi Weis’ moving documentary begins with this message from an Argentinean palteira (midwife). In the film’s website, Weiss shared that working in the human rights field, she was inclined to examine the beginning of life. She first started with the idea of infant feeding because it is our first food. She said she could not talk about infant feeding without talking about birth, thus the film shows cliché yet realistic scenes of women giving birth naturally or thru Caesarean section. The subjects of the film are from different continents, but all share a common role – motherhood. Because of the film’s movement from one country to the next, from a French mother of three to an American pregnant teenager, from a mystical mountain in Argentina to a concrete jungle of Washington D.C., from an upscale hospital corridor to a shanty in the Philippines, it might feel like riding a bus while looking at the passing images. You know where to go and what to expect, but the dizzying speed makes you want to look the other way.

Weis knows where she’s standing and as a filmmaker she tried to be objective about her purpose without being too pushy or preachy about her documentary’s message. In this film, she wanted us to see the importance of breastfeeding, but at the same time, she democratically interviewed women who also chose to use formula milk and bottle feeding. The film gave ample viewing time on the wisdom of the midwives in Argentina (Weiss’ native country), and a limited one on a C-section. In one scene, a woman shares her harrowing experience during delivery (her OB-GYN tore her amniotic sac with the use of her nail), and so we get the idea that the film also promotes natural delivery. This is perhaps understandable, as women who deliver naturally have greater chances of making their newborns latch immediately after birth, and thus breastfeed successfully. There were also some staged scenes so as to produce the desired effect.

Because of its rather scattered way of cinematic movement, one may get confused as to the direction of all these women’s narratives. Weiss may have successfully tried to stand apart from her respondents, but her film’s victory can be considered Phrygian in some areas.

But Weis is also a brilliant storyteller. She weaves each woman’s story into a beautiful tapestry of universal truth – that human milk is the best food that a woman can give to her newborn. Viewers may have taken this truth for granted for some time, but after seeing Filipina mothers feeding their infants formula milk (donations from WHO) after Typhoon Haiyan’s wrath because they thought it’s more superior than their breastmilk, one can only be appalled at the ignorance of these women. And one will also be angry at the multibillion business of formula milk as they take advantage of these poor mothers.

In a sense, Weis has achieved her purpose of educating the viewers about the international milk code, and the heartbreaking scenes of Filipino malnourished children will make you want to reach out for that Kleenex you didn’t have any intention of using before the film started.

The last scene shows a group of African tribal mothers singing joyfully. It is a shot full of wisdom, beauty, and victory for women. In essence, this is what the film Milk is trying to deliver to us, and it has succeeded.

Bucket List

Back in 2012 when I was 28, I wrote down what I desired to be. I listed 16. I can't help but smile at this because I never included the titles "wife" and "mother". The lesson: Divine will is different from human will.

Inside Out: A Lesson in Psychology

If the animation, Inside Out was shown to us by our college professor in Psychology 101, perhaps I would have had a stronger grasp and a clear, albeit animated (pun intended) picture of the inner workings of the brain instead of just seeing it as a white mass with the vision, tastes, memory, etc. parts.

The 2015 Pixar movie takes a daring leap by giving life to the universal emotions of joy, sadness, disgust, fear, and anger and setting it in where else, but the brain. It’s a rather risky move from Pixar’s usual personifying of animals, toys, and machines. But it has been a well-calculated move, as proven by its $90.4 million earnings at the domestic box office and $132 million in global sales. With an 11 year-old girl as its main human character trying to adjust in a new home and school and with her emotions playing such a big role in this change, we get another coming-of-age family movie… and a lesson in psychology.

The way the mind works has been cleverly engineered in this movie. Let’s take a look at Riley’s head. So we have the five emotions namely, Joy, Sadness, Fear, Disgust, and Anger. They stay in the Headquarters where they have the upper hand of deciding on Riley’s responses for whatever stimulus is presented (for example: Dad feeds Riley broccoli, Disgust decides it’s yucky, so Riley refuses to eat it). Every experience is preserved in a ball of memory, the color of which depends on the emotion Riley felt; gold for joy, blue for sadness, green for disgust, grey for fear, and red for anger. These balls get released to the long-term memory outside the Headquarters. Then, we have the five core memories. They are the most important ones because they power the islands that represent Riley’s personality; the Goofball Island, the Hockey Island, the Friendship Island, the Honesty Island, and the Family Island. All core memories are of the color of joy, until Sadness touched one of it in an accident that brought her and Joy into the deeper recesses of Riley’s brain. As Joy and Sadness took the trek back to the headquarters, they encountered adventures that gave us some psychological and neuroscientific terms set in laymen’s cartoon.

When all five core memories were vacuumed out of the headquarters together with Joy and Sadness, all of Riley’s personality islands stopped working. From here, we could see Riley becoming rebellious as Fear, Disgust, and Anger conflict on how to best respond in their new environment without Joy to lead them. Riley’s numb-like responses gave us a glimpse of what goes on in the brain when we have that little thing called depression.

It’s interesting how the movie tried to simplify emotions and the processes of the brain by animating them. Long term memory is an endless swarm of corridors and shelves.  Mind workers throw unnecessary memories in the dump like phone numbers, names of presidents, and years of piano lessons. There were instances in the plot when they tried to take things too literally like the train of thought and the dream productions. That might seem like a misleading concept to young viewers, but it’s better than making them bored to death with too technical terms.

More than the emotions, there is Riley herself who a lot of young children can relate to. The movie with the aid of its apt musical sequence makes you understand that in life, sadness is inevitable and we have to accept, embrace it even, in order to appreciate more what it means to be happy.

Now, that’s not only just a lesson in psychology, but also a lesson in life. 

American Mistress (2015)

Have you ever experienced that strong desire to be part of something? To the point that you would do anything just to feel that sense of belongingness? American Mistress explores this visceral need from the point of view of a lonely college freshman, who just wants to be part of a literary society. It raises the bar of need higher from the perspective of a 30-year-old jane-of-all-trades who wants to open a restaurant. Mix in an unrealistic plot set in the NYC, a script full of witty lines delivered in too girlish fashion, and an infuriating background music, and you get a coming-of-age dramedy.

The movie introduces us to Tracy Fishko (Lola Kirke) who’s bland and flat voice opens the film with this line: She would say things like, “Isn’t every story a story of betrayal?” No, I thought. That’s not true. But I could never say that. I could only agree with her. It was too much fun to agree with her.

As a 1^st year college student in Barnard, she tries very hard to fit in by going to a party even though her roommate warned her it’s not for her and by submitting a fiction to the lit society called Mobius. Her efforts are not rewarded as the party turned out to be unwelcoming. She also got rejected by the lit society. She finds solace from her mother who is marrying a guy who’s daughter coincidentally also lives in New York. Her mother suggests that she meet up with her soon-to-be sister, Brooke Cardanis (Greta Gerwig), and she might as well do it soon because they will be gathering together for the first time during Thanksgiving.

When they did meet, Tracy was so enamored by Brooke that it inspired her to write another fiction with Brooke as the lead character. She tried to screen for Mobius again by passing this story. For Tracy, Brooke represents the Big Apple – fun, fearless, independent.

Although Tracy feels that Brooke is everything that she is not and that she secretly wants to be, deep inside she knows that Brooke will never amount to anything in life. Tracy at eighteen years-old has an old soul in her in contrast to the thirty year-old Brooke whose devil may care attitude has gotten her nowhere. As Tracy accompanies Brooke in looking for investors that will help her build her restaurant, she learned to be fun and fearless, too.

With these two women as central characters, one may wonder who between the two is the American Mistress. Is it the young and intellectual Tracy whose desires are eclipsed by her fears? Or is it the worldly and irrational Brooke whose well-intentioned dreams escape her because of her senselessness?

“I want the whole deal. I’ve spent my whole life chasing after things and knocking at doors, and I’m tired of running towards people. I wanna be the place that people come to. I wanna make a home for all the knockers and runners. I’m good at that. I’m happy with that. I keep the hearth. That’s a word, right? Hearth? - Brooke

Such questions can only be answered by having these female characters come to terms with the possibility of reaching or not reaching their dreams. So did Tracy make it to the lit society? Did Brooke get her restaurant? Did they get that sense of belongingness they so desire?

What they got is the sisterhood that’s unique in the plot. And more.

32 in Pictures

Happy 32nd to me!

Best-Laid Plans

It's not what you think it is. The "best-laid plans" doesn't mean plans that have gone well. It actually means the opposite - the most carefully prepared plans may go wrong. It's not an apt title for this post since I would like to talk about how well I was able to successfully execute my plans. Reading about my blog post from the month of May: http://angmaestra.blogspot.com/2015/05/mommy-plans.html
I am glad that all three things fell into place. Here they are:

1) LEAVE

The university approved my application for a 6-month leave. I feel really lucky that I have such privilege. I can actually take a leave for a year if I want to, but of course, it's a leave without pay. I am dependent on my husband now, so I also feel blessed that he is supportive of my decision not to go back to work for awhile. I am sure that a lot of women would like to spend longer time with their newborn, but resort not to because they really have to work.

2) BREASTFEED

Even before my little boy was born, I had already made up my mind to exclusively breastfeed him for 6 months. So the leave approval is really such a blessing. If I had gone back to work after my maternity leave expired, I would definitely have a hard time pumping during daytime and breastfeeding him at night. It would be so exhausting. So, thanks to the leave approval, I don't need to pump because my son could have his milk anytime he wants.

3) SAYA CARRY

My husband bought a different carrier when he went shopping last time, but I badly wanted the SaYa baby wrap, so he bought me one last month. It's cheaper and easier to use.

So, there... the best-laid plans that turned out in its best way. Just a sort of trivia - the best laid plans comes from the poem by Scottish poet Robert Burns entitled To a Mouse: 

But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane [you aren't alone] 

In proving foresight may be vain:

The best laid schemes o' mice an' men

Gang aft a-gley, [often go awry] 

An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,

For promised joy.

It's where John Steinbeck fashioned his novel, Of Mice and Men, which incidentally is also the inspiration of this blog.

The Wedding

Before the month of September ends, I might as well post about our literary-themed wedding last year which fell on September 20. I haven't personally thanked and acknowledged each one of our suppliers and vendors after the wedding because we flew to Palawan for our honeymoon right away, so here they are!

Invitations by V&P Digital Worx Co.

Ugh! Still have to look for a photo of our invite.

Rings

My husband got the rings from Singapore. What's nice about them is that it's got our names engraved inside. I have my husband's name in my ring and my name in his - in our handwriting, It has also the date of our wedding day. Trivia: we both have the same ring size!

Souvenir

Our souvenir's a notebook with a note on the front cover that reads:

The back cover is a bit of our history as a couple. It goes:

Gown by Grace Clavel

A woman gets married once in her lifetime so she should get the best couturier in town for her wedding gown. Grace Clavel is downright professional and she exceeded our expectations. She made my gown and my husband's barong, as well as the mothers' gowns.

I love the intricacy of my lacy back.

Hair & Make-Up by Zymba

It's actually not Zymba who styled me, but one of his assistants. I looked fine during my wedding, but my husband thinks the quality of the make-up and spraynet that he used was poor. He sneezed the entire time we were together during our wedding night.

Flowers by Eric Sua-an

The fusion of white, green, and orange created such a lovely and cheerful atmosphere. I love it!

Cake by Sue's Cakes

It's a literary-themed wedding, thus the writings on the cake. I just copied it from the Internet, and the cake maker did a good job of imitating it. The orange roses on top looked pretty. This chocolate cake tasted great, too. 

Here's the text:

Drink to me only with thine eyes,

And I will pledge with mine;

Or leave a kiss but in the cup,

And I'll not look for wine.

The thirst that from the soul doth rise

Doth ask a drink divine;

Lest might I of Jove's nectar sup,

I would not change for thine. 

What thou art is mine,

Our state cannot be severed, we are one, 

One flesh; to lose thee were to lose my self. 

 Church

St. Clement's Parish Church in La Paz, Iloilo City is very significant for us as a couple because it's where we first attended mass together. It's also where I serve as a lector.

Decor by Eric Sua-an

Because the wedding is literary-themed, Eric used books as table tops. I don't have pictures to show but I think these will suffice...

I love everything about my wedding!

Our Love Story

Most of our close friends and family members think our love story started on that fateful day of August 8, 2013, where we were formally introduced and were "arranged" to have lunch together.

I couldn't even look at you here.

What they don't know is that it started way back here...

We were strangers back then.

This photo was taken on December 2012. It was during the mass celebration and tribute for your former elementary teacher and my colleague, Prof. Hulleza. We were never introduced here contrary to what you said. I was sitting at the very back with some WVSU co-teachers, and you were sitting with Mabik here. But I do remember your nape and of course, your performance (you sang the song Maam Hulleza taught you). Your singing was so-so and unremarkable but your nape struck me. I remember telling myself, "This guy has such a dark nape!" I then inspected the rest of you. Looking at your Intel shirt, I assumed that you're an IT guy working in the Middle East because of your dark skin. That afternoon didn't feel so significant at all, but looking back now, I can only marvel at how love works in mysterious ways. 

We never crossed paths again until 8 months after, when your sister and cousin (and aunt?) arranged for us to meet. I had second thoughts when your sister, (Manang) Hazel invited me to eat lunch with Helen Joy because we've have never been that close. I was suspicious when she said she'll bring her brother along (you). I went anyway because I thought there's no harm in joining a different company for lunch. So we ate in this Korean resto where we had to sit on the floor and you sat across me! I felt uncomfortable because I didn't know you that well, and how do you start a conversation with someone good-looking? I was attracted and intimidated at the same time. Then, you commented that I was holding my chopsticks wrong and handed me a spoon. I remember my face turning hot with embarrassment because your comment made me feel stupid. I thought you were fresh and such a smart aleck for saying those things out loud. Anyway, I vowed to myself that I would never join in such a "lunch" again and God forbid - meet you again.

As I said, love moves in mysterious ways. After that lunch, Helen Joy sent me a message to join her for a barbeque at their place the coming weekend. I was going to say no, but I couldn't come up with an alibi, so I said yes with a note of caution that it will be the last time I'll go out to join them and their "arrangements."

Hi, Rafa!

Well, what do you know? I actually enjoyed talking with you. You brought me home and asked for my number and that made me feel really giddy. That "Saturdate" perhaps sealed our fate. 

With Scoutie who became our flower girl the next year

The next day which was a Sunday, we attended mass together and we had lunch in Sheridan, Oton. Then, on Monday, we had lunch in Cilantro, where laughing over a bowl of pho, I had an epiphany where I told myself, "I think I'm going to marry this guy." It was in the same line of thought as the one I had when I told myself that you had such a dark nape. It came out of nowhere, but the only difference this time was I felt like flying because of sheer bliss. You have to go back to Singapore that very night, but I was determined to communicate with you somehow. That night, I sent you a "may you have a safe trip" message. I wanted to sound casual, but I was in love already. 

...And so, we communicated through Skype. I figured that you liked me, too. Why else would you spend late nights chatting about random and silly things with me? Those late nights, however made me groggy and useless at work the next day. Plus, I was daydreaming of you most of the time, so the papers I needed to check took a backseat until they accumulated. There were tons of work to do, too. I was angry at myself for getting carried away by my feelings. So I did what any crazy person would do - I blamed you!

It seemed like a good idea to blame you because the next thing I knew, you were also confessing your feelings for me, and that prompted you to take the next flight home. We had a good talk in Esplanade and we took that mighty leap of faith together. That was August 31, 2013. We met August 8, 2013, so you can imagine just how fast that was. Then 5 months after on January 26, 2014, you proposed!

How could I say no to you? You had me at hello. I felt like floating the entire time that day. We got married seven months after you proposed. Then, I got pregnant with Thirdy right away. God has been smiling down at us. 

Ah, the glory of love!

Today is September 20, 2015, and we are celebrating our first wedding anniversary. I can't say that it has been a bed of roses the whole time. We have our differences, but then we vowed to make these differences work so we could complement each other. What's great about our first wedding anniversary is that it's no longer just the two of us now - it's already three of us! I think the greatest gift that we have received for our anniversary is that we were presented with another role - as parents. It's a big responsibility, but it's been a rewarding experience, so far. 

It's been a year that we took that major leap of faith. Your nape is still dark, I still suck at using chopsticks, and we still have our Skype dates, but we're better, older, wiser - and I'm still truly, madly, and deeply in love with you. 

Cheers to one year of love! Our love story continues...

The Reader

I hope you'll grow up to be a reader, my son!

(Thirdy @ 4 weeks)

Letting Go

It wasn't a spur of the moment decision. I have been toying around with the idea for several days before I decided to just do it.

I have decided to give away my books -- my precious ones. Before I got married, my books were my best friends. I could just stay inside my room and snuggle up in bed with one of my books and the whole world could just pass by. Giving them away never occurred to me that time. In fact, I kept accumulating them even though I didn't have much time to read them. When I got married, and moved in to a new apartment, I brought them along of course (much to my minimalist husband's annoyance). We put them in a balikbayan box and placed it in a corner, where I have almost forgotten about it.

I blame it on the heavy downpour. If not for it and our dilapidated ceiling, the box wouldn't have gotten wet, and my husband wouldn't have removed the books so they wouldn't entirely get wet and smell. This happened about 2 weeks after I had the baby. The books were stacked in our room because we didn't have a place to put them. When I realized that it was completely unhygienic for the books to stay there because they've started to gather dust, I knew they all had to go somehow.

But parting with your books is like breaking up with your lover. You mull over it for sometime and then you just DO it because you know that it's good for you, you deal with the heartbreak, then (the best part) you just move on.

The books shouldn't just go to anyone, though. I'll feel relieved knowing that my 'best friends' will go to people whom I know will take care of them. Posting the books pictures in FB was a good idea. I decided not to sell them because it's my way of paying back for the good things that I have received, so far. Just a few seconds after I posted the books in an album "Pre-loved Books for Free," many of my good friends sent me a message that they'd would like to have this and that book. I am happy knowing that the books will be in good hands somehow.

You feel a melancholy every time you part ways with a loved one. That's how it has been for me every time I hand over a book to its new owner. This may sound like I have a post-partum depression (I don't), but I felt quite sad when people showed their interest to have my books. When they came over to get the book, however, there was a part of me that was relieved and happy that the book will finally say goodbye to me.

I could have chosen to keep my books, but with the baby around, I know that I don't have much time for reading anyway. Besides, I have been a bookworm for so long that I think it's time to meet real people instead of just meeting the imaginary ones in a book. Without the books around, perhaps I could give more time to my relationships and improve them, too. Also, I now have a husband a baby to snuggle up with in bed - and the books, well, they can just say goodbye.

It's high time that someone else read you, too.

August

My husband left for Singapore tonight after 5 weeks of leave (2 weeks work from home, 2 weeks paternity/vacation leave, 1 week leave extension). He was with me from the time I was about to give birth until our little one turned 4 weeks (today). It's the first time that we lived together for a looong time. Our longest prior to this was during our wedding which was 2 weeks. So this month of August has been so much of an adjustment. I realized that we're still really getting to know each other as a couple. Parenthood is also new to us, so everything's been trial and error with Thirdy.

Right now, all I want is just to get an uninterrupted sleep.

The Great Escape

Have you heard of that quote from Maya Angelou? "I've learned that people forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."

I think the same is true for travelling. When you get to a foreign country or place, what you will remember most is not so much the landmark or the people but the feeling that the sights and sounds have evoked in you. 

 HK 

CBD

VN

MC

SG

But perhaps, now that I have a son, every time I travel (with him), I'll care about his feelings more than my own. Is he enjoying? Is he uncomfortable? Where else would he like to go? Is he learning? 

My son, I'd like you to explore the world. 

Mommyhood

It's been 1 week and 1 day since I gave birth to my little boy, Thirdy. I gave birth last Aug. 3 at exactly 3:30 in the morning. It was along labor for me, and I almost had to go through a C-section but I am so blessed because everything was normal for both me and the baby. I had a normal vaginal delivery and because of that, I was already up and about 5 hours after I gave birth. I didn't have any complications and I am thankful that the baby was also free from infections even though I caught the flu one week before I was due. If I had the C-section, most likely the baby would still be in the hospital by now (C-section babies have greater risk of getting infections) and I'd probably be still lying on bed like an invalid because of the surgery. We went home Aug. 4 - just one day after I gave birth.

I am happy because even if I wasn't able to print out a birth plan and give it to the delivery room staff, I was able to have the Unang Yakap - a process of letting your baby latch on your breast right after he comes out of you, and I was able to breastfeed right away (3 hours after) - activities I definitely couldn't have done if I had to go thru C-section. They didn't give him any formula milk which I'm really thankful for because I intend to breastfeed for 6 months.

Right now, I'm wearing maternity pads because my uterus is still getting back into shape (through the help of breastfeeding). But I could feel that I'm recovering quite fast. I only have light bleeding now. Having Thirdy around is a big adjustment. He could be demanding that right now I'm typing this with one hand only. He wants to be held all the time and if he isn't sleeping or pooping, he's taking charge of both my breasts. My biological clock has also changed because of his erratic feeding patterns especially at night.

Mommyhood could be very exhausting, but hey, I'm not complaining.

38th Week

Today is Thirdy's 38th week. At least I can now be assured that he won't come out prematurely. If he would like to come out anytime this week or even today, I am confident that he will survive because he is full term already. But I am hoping that he will not come out not until he has reached his 39th week because according to what I have read, 39th-40th week is the most ideal time to give birth. Every week that the baby spends inside the mother's womb counts a lot in its brain development. Also, I would like his Dada to be around when I give birth. He'll come home on July 25th and that's only 6 days more to go. Thirdy's due date according to my last menstrual period (LMP) is still Aug. 3, but I don't mind if he'll come out on the last week of July as long as Dada's around already. It would also be nice if he decides to make Aug.7 or 8 his birthday because Aug. 7 is also Dada's birthday and Aug. 8 is a significant date for us as a couple - it's the first time we were formally introduced.

I've been dreaming and fantasizing about Thirdy for the last 9 months. 2 more weeks and I'll get to meet him. I feel that my nesting instinct is starting to kick in. I've been itching to get rid of my mother's tacky knicknacks so I could rearrange the house to accommodate a newborn. I'm also dying to clean the service area. As of now, I still have things to do in school before I take a maternity leave so I hope to start 'nesting' only after I'm done with what I need to do in school.

I miss doing non-pregnant activities like:

1. Eating sweets every single day! I've been controlling my sugar intake ever since I found out I have polyhydramnios (one sign of gestational diabetes) on my 7th month, but thank God I don't have that at all. Still, I've been cautious about what I take. I do give in to my sweet tooth occasionally and when I do, I'm on 7th heaven.

2. Jogging around Sports Complex

This morning as I took a walk around the block, I saw a guy jogging and it hit me that I haven't jogged for 9 months now. Sure, I've done my daily walks last summer vacation, but jogging exercise feels more invigorating. After I give birth, I'll get rid of my 'baby fats' by jogging around the subdivision.

3. Shopping

I miss buying non-pregnant dresses and shoes. I've been sticking to about 7 maternity dresses for schoolwear and to one pair of shoes to accommodate my swollen feet. But to be honest, being pregnant has helped me live frugally.

4. Pampering

I'd like to go to the spa and avail of the package with sauna, body scrub and whole body massage. But pregnant women cannot enter a sauna because the hot temperature will do harm than good to the baby. I'd also like to get a pedicure. I've been avoiding this one to avoid the risk of getting wound infections.

I know that after I give birth, I still can't go back to these activities because I have to be with my baby around the clock. It will even be a miracle if I'd still have the chance to look at the mirror and comb my hair. But who cares? As long as I've got milk, my baby won't care about the way I look.

Well, see you soon Thirdy Boo!

Poem XII

I used to buy everything and anything I want,

without any thought or care.

"I have my salary, I have my job,"

I told myself. "Nothing could go wrong..." 

Then, I became so careless.

I incurred more than I could pay,

and neglected my responsibilities.

Now, I have no choice.

Frugal living is a must.

Baby Boom

Tomorrow, my good friend Candy will give birth via Caesarean section to her first son and second child, Nonoy. She's now in the hospital - the same hospital where I am going to also give birth next month. It's exhilarating to note that anytime this July or August, I'll give birth to a baby boy, too. I met a co-teacher's husband this afternoon. His wife also gave birth last May, and I could see that he's on seventh heaven because of his son. Next month, it'll also be my husband's turn of showing off our son to our family and friends. I expect a lot of changes after I give birth. One of which perhaps is that uncontrollable emotion of being in a bubble of bliss every time I hold my baby. I can't wait.

Father's Day

Here's our Thirdy boy at 26 weeks. He's 34 weeks as of today. 6 more weeks to go and we'll be parents! Well, we're parents now - almost but not quite. Happy Father's Day to Thirdy's Dada! 

Poem XI

Time moves fast, but I'm paying up so slow

I'm a bit in a hurry

because of my little Thirdy.

I can't wait to pay them all up

I can't wait for all these notices to stop.

But how many more months?

and how many more years?

Before I could sleep without any fears.

But all I ever want to say

Is I've got one down today

And I've only got two more to go

So I don't mind even if I'm slow.

Poem X

The road to financial freedom is tough

I have to pay up my debts, man, it’s rough!

Every day I think of ways

So I can make up for my foolish days.

I have to earn, I have to save.

It’s tough but I have to be brave.

I regret my young, impulsive decisions,

My vain, materialistic inclinations.

I have no choice but to face

The consequence of my once crazy days.

Let the Gestation Begin

10 weeks

11 weeks

13 weeks

14 weeks

16 weeks

17 weeks

23 weeks

25 weeks

26 weeks

29 weeks

30 weeks

31 weeks

32 weeks

33 weeks

34 weeks

35 weeks

 36 weeks

37 weeks

38 weeks

August 2, 2015 (day before I gave birth)