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 at the mall 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.

--------

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. 

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.

And guess what?

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.

Because I am sick and all of my fingers are broken. But if I'm not going to do it now, I'm not going to remember any of it and this will never be written at all. 

This is something that doesn't happen often. Thought about writing this to remind us that we survived this ordeal, we could get used to it, we could do better, and nothing can stop us from traveling (except funds or lack thereof). 

I can't promise that this is going to be a hopeful post or one that turns lemons to lemonades though. It's purely just one of those sh*t happens stories. 

Here goes.

There is a reason why I haven't been posting dancing content on TikTok lately, why my face is getting "rounder" each day, and why we have to hold off or probably let go of our plans to immigrate to Canada (cold weather is a huge trigger).

It's crazy how life can change in a heartbeat.

One minute I'm carrying and pushing around heavy furniture, the next minute I can no longer cut my own nails.

Got this from Kryz Uy's post. I find it a bit relatable (except the being wealthy part), so I thought I'd do the same.

4 years later...

Our marriage so far:

• bought a small home (applied in 2017 but it was turned over a few months after our wedding)
  
• traveled as married couple
• had a baby boy
• learned learning the ropes of parenting
• got a small lot in Samal Island (we'll probably build a little cottage there in the future)
• got one more house and lot
• had a baby girl
• traveled as family
• stayed in love

I have a new pair of shoes!

And it's one of the most beautiful shoes I've ever laid my eyes on.

I know I don't need another one. Call it absurd, a weakness, a toxic trait, or whatever. But shoes do make me happy. Probably because I may have been healing from my "past traumas". You know, the time when we couldn't afford such. Growing up, I've never really owned more than one pair at a time, and it is usually a tad bigger for my feet just so I can use it longer until it gets worn through the soles. 

When I started working, majority of my shoes were from ukay-ukay. I did "splurge" but I would still limit my choices only to the items displayed on the discounted rack and never bought anything more than Php1,000 because that was already a luxury for me.

Jan renewed his driver's license today. I already renewed mine last year so I shared with him my experience to set his expectations—the entire renewal process may take the entire day.

Since his license has already expired, I drove him to the Land Transportation Office (LTO) in the morning. His appointment was at 8am. I decided to leave the car keys with him because I reckon he would be done in the afternoon, and he could just fetch Rhett right after school. Then I took a jeepney on my way back.

I decided to eat breakfast the moment I got home, and just when I was about to take my first bite, I received a message from him.

Much has happened the past weeks. I don't even know where to begin. But I guess, I'll start with the news that we now have two feral toddlers to keep an eye on. 

Our little girl, Isabel, turned one this month. And I know I have already said that we won't be traveling until she turns two. But here I am, creating a toddler-friendly itinerary for our next out-of-the-country trip.

I am sure no one is going to disagree when I say that traveling with a toddler is a pain in the ass. I've seen it, experienced it, and proven it an understatement. Yet, we find ourselves turning a blind eye to the thought that with these feral two in tow, we may never be able to relax—which defeats the purpose of a vacation.

Yes, folks! I still play (with really long breaks in between). And yes, after 1,3xx hours, I am NOT YET DONE. I strongly believe that no Resident Representative (a.k.a Player 1), not one, has ever finished this game. I lost count on how many times I've tore down some parts of my island because new ideas and inspirations always come popping in. And when I "finish", I actually feel the need to start another. The possibilities are so endless!

I have been skinny for as long as I can remember. While I can devour a truckload of burgers and still not gain a pound, being cursed with a metabolism that burns up calories more quickly than I can eat isn't always a good thing. 

I always had trouble finding clothes that fit me well. Size extra small (XS) is not exactly easy to find. Plus-sized women have a shop and an entire clothing line dedicated for them. But for the petite size? Not much. And I cannot always shop for children's clothes if I want to be taken seriously. 

So, I'd usually end up with these constricting, figure-hugging clothes because it's the only way for me to look womanly and accentuate my low-key curves. If I wear anything loose and comfier, it would be impossible to tell me and a coat hanger apart.

But lately, the baggy fashion is making its way back to the runway and, without a doubt, I immediately jumped into it. Such has always been my thing.

What I wore in our high school class reunion last December 2022. The shirt is medium.

I remember it was summer of 2003 when I created my first blog. I did it out of the need to channel my inner Hulk who gets infuriated at life's slightest inconveniences into something rather creative. Then I got through that teenage angst phase and became mature (surprisingly). Started sharing my opinions—without being pompous, my experiences—the good, the bad, the mundane, and pretty much every minuscule achievement and monumental milestone in my life. I have always thought it's not a bad thing to have something to look back to. 

Perhaps I have not made it very obvious but I've said this before: I am addicted to boots—even if it is something I know I cannot wear regularly here in the tropics.

Anyway, I finally got my very first Dr. Martens! 

Hands down to the coolest, sickest, and most badass shoes I've ever seen.

I love how I can rock the boots with anything.

I don't remember the last time I wrote something serious.  And I think this post will be serious. And long. And unrelatable. And boring. 

And... anyway. 

Let me start this with our daily scuffle: 

I am silently panicking.

I never thought I'd experience a heartbreak far worse than a break up.

I grew up in an era where the concept of Wishlist did not exist. In those days, whenever there was an "exchange gifts" during Christmas parties, the giver carried the burden of gift-giving—one that I carried ever since I started high school.

I was never really a sandal girl. My toes look funny and ugly to be wearing one. But I have always wanted a pair of Birkenstock. They are not exactly attractive but they go well with my manly feet. They are also easy to wear and can go with anything—jeans, shorts, even dresses!

The malls here sell them for more than Php5,000. And each time they go on sale, I would slip one on in hopes that one day I would finally give in and get myself a pair. But every single time, I'd take it off with an expected dismay. Because every single time, it doesn't feel right.

I get it. I pay for the brand and durability. But if I'm paying for something that steep, I would have to pay for comfort as well. At my age, comfort has become my deciding factor for everything. Seats, accommodation, car, clothing, and so on. Apparently, the Birks do not have it. At least, not on the first try.

I settled for different brands that have a similar look to the classic Birkenstock Arizona because they feel much more comfortable. Unfortunately, they didn't last that long.

And then yesterday, strangely enough, I finally own a pair of authentic Birkenstock Arizona sandals. I love them. I've always wanted them. But wearing them for the first time wasn't as magical as it did with my brand new sneakers. (New Balance 574 ftw!) If anything, it was unsurprisingly anticlimactic.

That's Chino, our adopted cat.

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.