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.
After what seemed like an eternity of sitting, waiting, wishing...
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.
7 Cute Things You May Not Need for Your Desk But Probably Want
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.
Two of my friends have had their photos used by imposters to scam people on Facebook just recently.
Friend #1 learned about her imposter when it tried to sell baby stuff on Facebook and her friend from another city saw the listing. The imposter's fake profile was reported and taken down before anyone could fall prey.
As for Friend #2, it was already too late when she found out about it. She was getting virtually sucker-punched by angry and frustrated victims after realizing they had been duped into sending their hard-earned money for nothing. Her face was posted on different groups, labeled with the most demeaning words while the real perp got away with it.
Well, that's scary.
This is not the first time I've heard of it. It happens all the time and it could happen to anyone—especially us, ordinary people whose faces are not easily recognizable by a lot of people.
But you know what scares me more?
I still remember the last time I drew something. It was Valentine's Day four years ago when, like any other Valentine's, Jan and I had nothing better to do. It was a year before the pandemic but staying home was already a much better choice that day.
So Jan challenged me to draw something and I did.
The past few days had been quite a challenge because I was left alone to deal with two wild toddlers and a teen with raging puberty hormones. And as I watched them destroy the house while I slowly sipped my coffee, feet up, I had been thinking about how I will be rewarded for being great at maintaining a healthy marriage by allowing the husband to go on a three-day trip because I believed he needed to have some fun too.
I mean, Solen Heussaff gave Nico Bolzico no more than 24 hours to fly to Davao to hike Mt. Apo and back, while Jan was granted 3 freakin' days. How lucky can he get? I suppose he must have thought of rewarding me with something I truly deserve like an ultimate steak night date or a Vespa. The latter is mostly preferred, thank you.
I looked out the window and saw dark, heavy clouds looming over. Five minutes later, it began to pour. I took a sip of my coffee and realized it wasn't warm anymore. I put the cup down and started heading back to the bedroom. Getting snuggled underneath all those blankets and sheets on a rainy day sounds better than a cold coffee, I thought.
I moved toward the bed and felt a much stronger gravitational force around it. With barely four hours of sleep, I could have easily collapsed on the soft mattress, pulled my phone out and made up a convincing excuse why I could not go like I usually do.
I did not leave with a basket full of bright, colorful, and aesthetically pleasing stuff that are absolutely unnecessary.
I could have done it, you know. The husband was a thousand miles away and no one else can dissuade me from buying whatever useless knickknack I fancy. All I have to do is swipe this little devil.
I have been here for about an hour now.
While I try to make out what is being broadcasted over the speakers because I can only hear muffled and distorted sounds as if the announcer is gargling the microphone, I have been watching people.
And so it occurred to me that airports are a home to intensified emotions. Excitement. Anxiety. Happiness. Sadness. Optimism. Fear. Awe. Disappointment. Gratitude. And possibly any emotion that you can think of.
I don't really get my fingernails done.
My hands look too manly that no amount of hand spa and nail color can make it ladylike. My day to day activities are also not very friendly for long, prettyfied, manicured nails (I wash my children's bum, no thanks). So yeah, a trip to the nail salon is rather pointless.
But today, I went to get a manicure in preparation for an event this weekend. And while at it, I decided to have a softgel extension instead of a regular polish. Because why not? I will be free of kids and unwashed dishes for three days. Yay!
Do you remember the time when I could not be bothered to look good because I paid so little attention to my outfits? Well, my blog does. 😅
Then I realized how making a simple upgrade to my style just made me feel better overall. It does feel empowering, you know. Every outfit that I chose to rock—despite getting shot at with those disapproving looks for not dressing "like a mom" because I love to flash my belly button out—is a reminder that I can be anything.
For this trip, I prepared about ten outfits. Yes, ten! However, our seven-day trip was unexpectedly cut short, so I only got to wear five.
The idea was to wear something fresh and appropriate for a hot and humid country.
I would have loved to put on some light layers just for the aesthetics, but I'm pretty sure my armpits will go on a wild and violent protest. I also thought about wearing a summer dress or that plaid top and mini skirt set I've been meaning to wear for a long time. But I'm afraid I will have that Marilyn Monroe moment while running after two hyperactive toddlers. Or one of them will lift the back of my skirt up and expose whatever horror has been kept hidden there. 😝
So after a few days of planning, I came up with outfits that will still show some skin to keep me cool from the sweltering heat without putting myself at risk for an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction.
Yes, OOTD planning is one of my favorite parts about traveling. I like getting creative. But I am never really too eager to go overboard with the spending. So, here are the budget-friendly outfits that I wore in a fine, sophisticated, first-world country, Singapore:
Outfit #1
This is what I wore at the Singapore Zoo. The goal was to look like a zookeeper but make it stylish.
Love the blazer and short set. Still thinking where else can I wear this. |