Archive for April, 2008
It’s my middle guy’s turn to go away on a band trip. They’re going to Edmonton and staying there for four days.
On Monday morning, I let his dad drive him to school alone. That’s where they were to board their buses that would bring them to Alberta. I didn’t go because I still had to get ready for work. I didn’t shed a tear. Surprise, surprise. But I knew that I was going to miss him.
For those of you who have known me on-line for quite a while now, you probably know how I get emotional whenever my oldest son would go away on these trips. It must be true what blogger moms Belle and Noemi have told me that it gets easier each time. But this is the first time that this child has gone away. And I question myself, for just a second naman, why I didn’t cry. Is it because this is the one that always gives me a hard time? But even though, it doesn’t mean that I love him less. No, I don’t think so. And if I think about it, I always get concerned for this one and I make sure that he doesn’t feel neglected, him being the middle child. But this one wants to be left alone most of the time. And he seems happier being left alone, so I just let him be most of the time.
And also, looking back now, these last few years that my oldest son had to go on these trips, I would always go to see him off. But that’s because I was working at home and I had the time to spare. That’s also probably why I would get emotional, I had all the time at home to think about it. But now, I am working at the office and there are people around me and we’re busy at work and I don’t really have the time to think that much of it.
But even though I didn’t cry this time, I did miss the little booger. I know that his little brother also missed him. Somehow it seemed quieter in the house without him. I thought of him a lot while he was gone.
And speaking of boogers, I remember the time when I discovered the wall on his side of the bed got dotted with his boogers. It was so gross. I called it his wall of boogers. It was hard wiping off those dried boogers. And I told him that if he did that again, he’d have to clean it up himself. I also discovered that he’d wipe his boogers on the wall behind his chair in the kitchen. But I nipped it in the bud.
At around noon today, when I was at work, I called his dad to remind him that his son’s coming back at around 2:30 p.m. and please go to school to pick him up before that time. At around 2:00 p.m., I tried to call the school to confirm if they were arriving on time. Because it snowed this morning and I didn’t know what the highway condition was and I was worried that they might be delayed. But the line was busy. I thought that maybe the other parents were also trying to call. I kind of got frustrated when my call couldn’t get through and I started to get choked up. Delayed reaction? I was missing my kid and was anxious and excited to hear from him and I wanted to make sure that he gets home safely. I called home at 2:45 p.m. I talked to his dad. Yes, he is back home safely. The students arrived on time. Is he tired, I asked him. He is upstairs, he said. Okay then, I’ll talk to him when I get home.
He was sleeping when I got home at 5:30 p.m. I tried to wake him up at supper time. But he just changed position in bed. He must be really tired. They left Edmonton at 9:00 p.m. last night. He probably didn’t get any sleep in the bus at all.
It’s now 10:00 p.m. and he’s still in bed and hasn’t eaten yet. But that’s okay. My little booger’s back home.
One fine Sunday after lunch, we were all still at the table eating our fruits and watching basketball on the small TV in the kitchen. Yes, we do have a TV in the kitchen and we usually watch TV while having our meal. I know some parents will smirk at that but it works for us. It’s sort of multi-tasking in these very busy lives of ours. We get to watch our favourite shows while having our meal. Besides, the shows can be a great source of topics for us parents and these kids who won’t usually open up anymore when you ask them how’s school or what did you do at school today.
Okay, so back to the game. The Houston Rockets were playing against the San Antonio Spurs. This guy Finley made a long shot from the side.
“That’s only two points? ” I asked my middle son, who’s the basketball fanatic.
“Yeah,” he said.
“I thought that would be a three-pointer. ”
“No, because you see that arc? He’s still inside it.”
“Oh, okay. Now I get it.”
Then this other guy came on. “Manu Ginobili,” I read from the TV.
“That’s not how you say his name, mommy. It’s Gi-no-bli.”
“It sounds like Italian. But I don’t think it’s Spanish. What country is he from? “
“I’m not telling. “
“Well, I’m gonna google it.”
And then the husband chimed in, “Argentina,” he said.
“Yes, finally,” said my middle guy.
And then I saw Tony Parker. I said, “I know that guy. He’s married to Eva Longoria, one of the Desperate Housewives.”
“I know mommy, you already told me that. ” That’s my middle son again.
“And did you know that he speaks French? “
“Yes, because he’s from France. Oh my gosh!”
“Oh, yeah, now I remember him saying that in an interview.”
And then he threw his head at the back of the chair, as if in frustration. And my eyes grew wide at what I discovered.
“Oh Ryan, you already have an Adam’s apple. I saw a bump there on your neck. Let me see it again.”
“No. . . . . So that’s what it’s called?”
“Yes, men get to have it. Kuya Reggie has one too.”
And he flashed this smile that looks like he was proud to be a man now. And I think I felt a sense of relief there. He must have been wondering why he got that bump on his neck.
“I can’t remember now when I first noticed your kuya’s Adam’s apple,” I continued. “But I still remember when his voice changed. I thought he had a cold. When I asked him, he answered me in this big deep voice.”
“How old was he?”
“I think he was 13 or 14.”
And he flashed another smile. He’s at that age now.
Now my youngest son joined in the conversation:
“You know that team we were watching last night, mommy, was it Xavier (Sa-vier)? ”
We were watching the college basketball the previous night.
“I know a boy at school with that name.”
“You know, in the Philippines we would say that name as Javier (Ha-vier). That’s also how you would say it in Spanish.”
“Mommy, why are there a lot of Spanish names in the Philippines?”
“Because Spain colonized the Philippines for many years.”
“What does that mean?”
“That means Spanish people lived in the Philippines and they even ruled the country. ”
And then my 13-year old interrupted.
“They’re called Spaniards, mommy, not Spanish.”
“Well, I know that. But I’m trying to explain it to your brother and I want to use words that he can understand.”
And then my youngest son said, “I know they’re called Spaniards mommy. He he he. ”
So there you go.
And then the youngest one asked me who discovered the Philippines.
“His name was Ferdinand Magellan. I think he was a Spaniard and he was sent by the king of Spain.”
“So who discovered Canada? ” I asked him back. “Tell me. Because I didn’t learn about Canada when I was still in school.”
And the two boys interrupted each other in telling me.
“Oh, I know,” started the 10-year old. “We learned that in Social Studies. I can’t remember his name. But I think he was named after a river.”
“A river was named after him,” corrected the 13-year old.
“He was trying to find spices in China,” continued the 10-year old.
“They discovered that the world is round,” interrupted the 13-year old.
“But then he wanted to do a shortcut.” That’s the youngest one.
“And instead of going east, he went west.” That’s my middle guy.
“And then he discovered Canada,” finished the youngest one.
“Oh, now I think that Magellan was also looking for spices.” That’s me.
So now you see how a game of basketball started this conversation. And before any of you history buffs give me a hard time, I googled Magellan the next day and found out that he was Portuguese and I told the kids of my mistake.
And it doesn’t end there. Here’s more. When it was just the two of us at the table that fine afternoon, I caught my 10-year old son touching his neck. I couldn’t help but smile.
“Mommy, do I have an Adam’s apple?”
“Not yet, Ryland. When you get a little older.”
“When I’m a teen-ager?”
“When I am at puberty?”
I was surprised that he already knows that word. “Yes,” I said.
At the church parking lot on the Sunday after Easter.
At our pediatrician’s parking lot last Monday.
This one was taken last year. That’s the metal frame of a lawn chair that’s being uncovered as the snow slowly melts. Oh, you wouldn’t believe the things that get unearthed, or should I say, “unsnowed” around this time of the year.
This one was taken last year as well. Yes, that’s a ladies brassiere.
The first time I saw it was early in the morning. It was under frozen water. I couldn’t help but giggle. Later that afternoon, the ice has melted. I wanted to pick it up and throw it in the garbage. But I thought that it would be embarrassing if someone saw me pick it up. It’s not my size anyway. It’s way too big for me. I think it stayed there on the ground in front of the 7-11 Store for a few days. I wonder who finally got rid of it.