When you become a mom, you take on not just one, not two, not even three, but multiple roles. 

As a mom of a teen, toddler, and a baby, I can be a referee, teacher, nurse, storyteller, an entertainer, event planner, a coach, caretaker, driver, repairman. And if I have the whole day, this list can go on forever. And I am not exaggerating.

Of course, the whole world has to know.

Because I feel like a domestic goddess after doing such feat.

And just in case it doesn't happen again.

I don't know if there's a household chore more tedious than folding clothes. I would have seizures just thinking about it. Plus, it requires dexterity and a higher degree of patience to perform such simple task—and unfortunately, I do not possess the latter.

You know what I miss right now? It's waking up early in the morning, then enjoying some freshly-baked pandesal dipped in hot coffee while having a little chit-chat with the family... at the beach.

For almost a week, that's how our mornings were spent during our vacation a few months ago.

At this point, I think I already lost the ability to write. I find it hard to write anything even when there is so much to share the past three months. This is probably the longest time I have been gone—in the blogosphere at least. I would have started this comeback post with an apology for the absence but nobody really notices that, so it doesn't matter.

Anyway, I have gone down the rabbit hole—that is TikTok. And I am still here with no plans of resurfacing soon. I am far too busy watching funny, dancing, and oddly satisfying videos to blog. 

It's crazy how I used to cringe at content made on TikTok and here I am with twenty-seven published videos on the same platform that I loathed so much. Well, what can I say? TikTok saved my life.

In case you are wondering how...

I know it's already a week late for this. But just in case you are wondering if Jan and I are still okay because I have not posted anything on our anniversary—which is very unusual because I do it every single year—yes, we are okay. Very much okay.

It's just that, I TOTALLY forgot about the date. When Jan greeted me, my first reaction was, "was that today?" Haha. I am always the bad guy in this relationship. Plus, I did not have a single second to spare to write about it.

It may not seem like it but, truthfully, I am terrible when it comes to parenting. A lot of moms probably feel the same way, too. It's just that people don't really talk about it.

Unfortunately. 

I don't remember the last time I read a book. 

But right now, I am enjoying this:

"Kamukha ng tatay noh?" 

My Trafalgar Law hoodie arrived a few days ago. It reminded of the first time I had laid my eyes on this badass tattooed doctor with a goatee *gasps*. It was law at first sight. 

I have also been binge-watching and catching up with One Piece lately and I remember the fun times I had with Jan at the Tokyo One Piece Tower three years ago. I feel so bad I wasn't able to blog about it, especially when the only One Piece theme park in the world already closed its doors for good last July 31, 2020 (eff you, corona). 

March 23, 2019.

I thought I would have a long, uninterrupted sleep last night because for the first time in almost two years, I let our toddler sleep with my mom. 

But that much needed rest never happened. I was so uncomfortable with this belly that could pop anytime, the perpetual back pain, the need to pee every fifteen minutes, and the unbearable heat.

But unlike Eve, the devil had nothing to do with it.

I swear. Jan and I never ever thought that one day we would be called landlords. 

We think it's a title only given to the asset rich, cash rich. Since we are neither, becoming a landlord has never really sunk in even though it has been seven months since we had our first and brand new house rented out.

Don't get it wrong. Unlike true landlords, we do not earn from it. The rent goes straight to the housing loan that we will be paying for at least two decades. But since it is highly unlikely for us to live there for now, the renters will be paying the mortgage for us.

Good move, 'di ba?

May 2021. This was last time we visited this place to check that everything is ready for the new occupant. I kind of miss this house, honestly.

Women my age don't get knocked up easily. Or so I thought. It takes a lot longer to get pregnant again. Or so I was told. So we made love unprotected. And surprise, surprise! It only took less than two months to miss a period. While the news was one of the best we received, it honestly got us a little bit alarmed than excited.

Oh shit, are we ready for this? 

2021 took so many twists and turns. But despite the grey skies that have been looming since 2020 that honestly seems like a hundred years ago, there have been those little ray of lights that seeped through from time to time. And as this year comes to a close, I would like to express my gratitude to all the people and the small wins that helped me get where I currently am: happy and contented.

I am and will always grateful for having a loving family (including my in-laws), my maka-ugtas but adorable sons (plus our baby girl on the way), supportive friends, and the selfless frontliners among others. But for this post, I am giving the spotlight to the husband, Jan.

I know, I know. If I write about him one more time, makasuka na. But I cannot help it. Taking care of a toddler while pregnant, losing my passion, unable to travel and destress, and having no job to keep me preoccupied during this pandemic would make me lose my shit. But I didn't. And that's mostly because of him.

So here are 21 reasons why I am grateful to the husband who makes my life happier, easier, and sweeter:

1. He chose me. He always chooses me first. And I know he would choose me over anything or anyone over and over again.

2. He makes situations a little harder on himself in hopes that it makes them easier for me. Like how he gets up in the middle of the night to put our baby back to sleep and drags himself to work the next day. Or how he does the laundry, washes the dishes, or cleans the house just so I can rest (and without complaints at that).

3. He is so protective of our family. I mean, not just physically. I feel secured and sheltered from verbal attacks, criticisms, and judgment from other people, should there be any. He's the type who would avoid conflicts at any cost but I have seen him bravely speak up when the situation calls for it.

4. He patiently puts up with things that I like that do not interest him. Books I have read, Harry Potter, football, and even Pinoy showbiz. Likewise, I pretend to understand stuff he can't stop yapping about. Boxing/MMA, NBA, DotA2, or Astrophysics. 😁

5. He is a very good provider. He works hard. But even so, he can make time to take me out on a date even if it means just doing errands together or eating takeout at a parking lot.

Nevermind his butas-butas shirt.

 If there is one positive influence I have on Jan, it has got to be this.

This is his second time to summit the Philippines' highest mountain. His first climb without me (yep, partially bummed because I couldn't go) and probably his worst hiking experience by far—with plans almost scrapped, major major delays, torrential downpour, and becoming a guide for the first time in an unfamiliar trail real quick because he's the only experienced mountaineer in the group. 

It was twelve years ago when I pushed a giant papaya out of my lady parts. And fifteen months ago, I did the same thing. I wish I could say that having a baby at 24 isn't all that different from doing it at 35. But nope. I sneezed my first born out. The second one, however, felt like those exaggerated, nowhere near accurate depictions of labor and childbirth in movies. Except, it was real albeit there was no moaning, screaming, or howling on my part. My doctor had to break my water because my labor was not progressing and a few hours later, I was still stuck at 6cm.

I take pride in my DIY skills. 

I was born creative. But if we're going to be honest here, I only do it because I am cheap practical. If I can do something with what's available, I will do it if it means saving more money for better things like books I don't get to read.

I remember reading a friend's post on Facebook that said he will never ride the jeepney ever again. Another also shared about his first jeepney ride after so many years like it's a lifetime achievement or something. Knowing that they're not even someone you can consider rich, I was so quick to silently judge them for being maarte and hambog. 

You see, I grew up riding the public transpo. I have been commuting daily since I started kindergarten and I am well-aware how poor the public transportation system in our country is. DIRTY. CROWDED. HOT. Not to mention, it can also be DANGEROUS knowing how public transpo drivers can be ruthless and aggressive. You have to watch out for perverts and pickpockets, too. 

But as dreadful as it may sound, such things never really bothered me. 

Well, I didn't have a choice.

Scenario at the vaccination site: 

Kuya assistant: "Diri ang mga buntis."

And he guided every pregnant woman out of the queue but me.