I was thinking of blogging about something because I wanted to take a break from the long-ass essay that I have been writing. I thought I could pull off what my favorite author, Brandon Sanderson, can do. He writes something different if he's feeling burned out. He takes a break from writing by writing novellas. But who am I kidding?

So I went through my drafts to see if I could salvage a post, and I've come across this. It's one of those days I felt I was in the dark. And I guess, this needed to be out for mothers out there who feel the same way. Know that you are not alone.

Dry patches, dark spots, visible fine lines, blemishes, and an overall lack of glow that screams "I haven't slept in the last three years"—that's what you get when you're into the thick of motherhood. With two little humans and a teen to take care of, pressing chores, and errands that needed to be done, skincare has been shoved down to the bottom of my to-do list.

But now that I am hitting the last year of my 30s, I choose to prioritize beauty and health (without putting my motherhood duties back seat, of course). So when I got the chance to try White Glow products, I was happy to give them a go. 

We finally got to see Jack Johnson live! 

And he did not disappoint! 

OMGAEOFIJASFJHGVOAHIJROARLOJSDFJAF!!!

Allow me to share with you all a story of our greatest weekend in 2024 yet. 

*deep breath* Here goes... 

Jan and I didn't know about the Wanderland Music Festival until we saw on Facebook that Jack Johnson would be headlining it (love how the Facebook algorithm works). So, we immediately bought the tickets even though we had never heard of ALL the other artists that would be performing there.  

I love online shopping and traveling, that's why it is imperative that I return to work to continue funding my hobbies.

So I looked into the job market, and I was mildly horrified.

The last time I had a job interview was in 2016. That was eight freaking years ago.

Plus, in my line of work, most companies ask for a strong portfolio that showcases all the work you've done. I've only had one web development project since I resigned in 2020.

I remember during the first few days of my Muay Thai training, my trainer made some comments about my natural fighting stance, how it's easy for a beginner like me to learn the roundhouse kick, and how good I was at throwing punches (the uppercut was quite a challenge though). It was my very first martial arts training. But decades ago, I had informal lessons with my uncle Vic.

I think that's one of the many things he did for me that I was so grateful for.

He was the one who taught me how to defend and stand up for myself. Probably the reason why I was never bullied despite having this payatot, bullyable physique. I mean, they tried. But they only ended up with a bloody nose and never messed with me again.

And until this very day, nobody could bully me. Except my kids. 😅

I would have turned this into a parenting blog—where I may never have to run out of things to write and, therefore, make a living out of it—but it will only reveal the sh*t mom that I am.

You would probably read nothing but parenting fails. I would be shamed for being the kind of mother who orders pizza for dinner, gives in to screen time to shut the kids, lets toys take over the living room, doesn't mind the kids rolling on dirt, and one who would probably use a child leash when the situation calls for it.

It was in the early 2000s when I learned how to craft byte-sized narratives (a.k.a. blog) and I have been suffering from word vomit ever since. To those who know me, it's not a surprise that when I have something to say, I don't hold back. 

And when I say I have something to say, it doesn't involve the mouth. I write. My thoughts are delivered better when written than spoken, even if they do not make any sense at all.

Although, ever since I gave birth to Chris in 2020, I have been awfully quiet. Facebook has been devoid of my opinions about politics. social issues, or any relatable real-life dramas that spark off heated arguments because I was too exhausted to care... 

Until this engagement ring hullabaloo.

For this year's year-end post, Jan takes the center stage. Again.

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It was around January this year when I noticed one of my fingers started swelling. I thought it was just a simple case of a sprained finger. But one inflamed finger led to another, until I could not twist open a bottle of water anymore. Five of my fingers looked like sausages. Both my wrists have become inflamed too. Of course, I had it checked and I was initially diagnosed with Reactive Arthritis.

Aside from the corticosteroids that I am taking which have nasty effects on my mood and weight, I was also on strong painkillers albeit, at most, they can only reduce pain—still leaving my hands in their most useless state. I could not drive. I had a hard time putting my clothes on. Heck, I could not even open the door on my own. It was that painful. And it went on like that for 6 months. It's been almost a year since I was diagnosed and I am still in pain right now, but not as much as I was back then.

Needless to say, Jan is the one doing almost everything. 

Picture this. He starts his day early in the morning to drive Rhett to school and he'll end the day putting our toddlers to sleep (back then, their bed time was at 12mn). His working hours are flexible. So as a team lead, it could also mean he can have multiple meetings in a day that can start as early as 7am and go as late as 11pm. In between, he does most household chores. And even though he assumed being solely responsible for Chris (paligo, pakain, and all), he still helps me with Isabel. I am without a job right now and I could have made myself useful, but then I have to become an additional burden to him because he has to assist me with anything that would require my hands. We have no yaya or house help.

I know he is exhausted (an understatement). But I have never, not once, heard him complain. Never nanumbat o nagparinig. If anything, he'll just throw me a hug, give me a massage, surprise me with any food that will make me feel better, and even encourage me to attend media events or go out with friends. Siya na yung pagod, pero ako pa rin unang iniisip niya.

I suppose a 50-50 marriage, on the surface, seems to make sense. You stay married because you are both putting the same amount of time and effort into the relationship. But with what's happening to us, I realized a 50-50 marriage doesn't always work. When you want to go the extra mile, 50-50 is definitely out of the equation.

A few Sundays ago, I decided to hit the road to fetch Jan in General Santos City. Honestly, with the cost of fuel consistently going up where a 500-peso worth of gas won't get you anywhere, I could have just let him commute because that would have been obviously waaaay cheaper. 

But after years of mothering a tornado trio without a nanny, I thought I'd take this opportunity to escape all kinds of duties. Savor at least two and a half hours of freedom that comes with going on a solo drive, 140 kms away from home. 

No kids, no chores, no routine, no chaos, no emails, no stress.

And no one to tell me how fast I can go—not a city ordinance, not a speed camera, nor a speed limit sign. Except, the husband, Jan.

For the first time in my entire life, I got scammed.

I thought I was smart enough not to be fooled, but here I am.

I was on Facebook, mindlessly viewing how my friends spent the last 24 hours. And in the middle of these stories, I came across a video ad. I didn't even bother to watch it but this fat, arthritic thumb accidentally tapped the link when what I was trying to do was swipe forward. Curse this high-speed internet and fast-processing phone, the Shein app opened before I can tap the back button (or maybe my fat, arthritic thumb was just painfully slow).

I have always talked about my shoes. Thought maybe I'd also talk about my feet. Haha. 

Ugh. 🙄 

And here's the thing: I don't like my feet because they're ugly. 

You could say they're a whole new level of hideous. Dry, cracked, calloused, wrinkly, and veiny. 

(Which does not make the topic any better.) 

No amount of moisturizer, color, pedicure, special beauty treatment, or maybe even plastic surgery will make my feet conventionally beautiful. 

I've tried most of it all.

Sitting behind the computer screen all day can be pretty exhausting. But believe me when I say that sprucing up your boring workspace is important for your mental health and your productivity too.

I find it truly amazing how something so small and simple as the color of Post-it note can have a big impact on your mood. So I've rounded up things that are cute and may be impractical but with one look, can make your stressful day a bit bearable.

A few days ago, I decided to cast my votes for the barangay elections. It shames me to admit this, but this is actually my first time to participate at the barangay level. 

So the first ignorant thing I said when the ballot was given to me was, "Ay, isulat diay (Oh, so we're writing it down)."

I settled into one of the seats and proceeded to write all eight names. And oh boy, did my hand feel sore after that. Then I gave my votes one last look before dropping the ballot in the box. 

I cringed at what I saw.

I remember the time Dr. Martens opened its doors here in Davao (yes, it's about those goddamned shoes again). I first laid my eyes on the 8-eye 1460 cherry red boots. It looked so badass that it made me believe in love at first sight. But priced at around Php 9k, it would be a cold day in hell before I would be willing to pay that much for something I would not use regularly.

Five years and a devastating news later, hell froze and I finally got my very first Docs. It is not my dream cherry reds but it is badass enough to make me fall in love with the brand even more. And it was such a challenge to stop at one pair.

So I had another. 

And another. 

All in less than a year. 

It's a terrible addiction.

It's the first day of October and the first thing I read on my Facebook news feed today is my friend's call to ignore messages coming from her account. Apparently, she was hacked and the said hacker had been asking money from anyone on her friends list.

This is not the first time I've heard of this. It's not a surprise that people would do things unimaginable just for money. 

But anyway.