Save up and camp

Routine bores me. That is something I need to work on. Unlike the husband who feels secured on routine, I'd go crazy if I can't do something different in a week. We usually pepper our routine with travels just to appease me. Sometimes I'd vehemently demand it. "Please for my sanity," is my usual speech to the husband.

With the rising cost, we have to watch our expenses. And this includes cutting on travels. Travels take a huge share in our income pie, you see. Which also prompts me to look for alternatives. I'm thinking we don't have to give up travel altogether, we just have to know where to cut costs.

I also happen to love the outdoors even if I'm a well-known mosquito food. Mosquitoes seem to prefer me as their main course but I don't care less. I could go on trekking a river for hours and feel completely happy and contented. There is something in communing with nature that speaks to me.

I was actually thinking of that 15-minute drive Mountain Resort and camp. We happen to live where everything's near and accessible. If the savings account is truly hurting, I guess we could just go home to my mother's and pitch a tent at the backyard.

Now, that is just an idea I hope you'll find useful. But before everything else, everything has to be planned and mapped out. I hate routine, but I'm also kindov anal. :P

Xofia is 2 and all I'm thinking is this

I watched as Xofia, now 2, wiggles away around the living room while singing along Blues Clues theme.

I wondered what I was doing, what I was capable of, when I were her age. Surely, I wasn't singing along to some TV character, we didn't have one.

Probably, I was out in the backyard, early in the morning, to join my Lola in the garden. I remember relishing the moment over a mound of pulled grass by my side and thinking how good I was at this. Now, I smell a freshly-cut grass and all I remember is this sweet and poignant memory of my Lola.

Xofia is now 2. They say it's high time that she'd have a brother or sister. I think you'd have to let me enjoy a full night's sleep first before I plunge into another months of sleeplessness. And besides, my God, the crisis!

I'd like to take a step back for awhile. Imagine life worrying about one person's heartbreaks and pains and joys and happiness when she'd old enough to experience all that. Gosh, that is already a handful; what about imagining two person's worth of all these? How can a mother endure?

So Soon, Girl?

I didn't expect for her to visit me again this soon.

Yes, I'm calling my migraine a "her" because for whatever it's worth, she has the temperament and a personality of a female.

She makes her presence known by gently throbbing at my head--which of course goes unnoticed (maybe I were a man, then?). Then she'd start her tantrum, this time not so gently, covering one part of my head, and if I'm not so lucky, the back, too.

Because I still deny that it was her again, I drink coffee. Now, unlike me, she loathes coffee.

I try to justify that maybe it was because I'm hungry from drinking too much coffee. "Stupid!" I can almost hear her.

So she gives me nausea and I start to vomit. But I can't, she won't let me. No matter how hard I try, no barf comes out. "Tease!" I shout back at her.

"That's what you get from ignoring me!" she said with finality.

What will I do without Dr. Karp and ice packs?

Dr. Harvey Karp said that toddlers acting out when their mommies (yes, mommies, not daddies) are around is the ultimate form of flattery. I remember he made an explanation as to why (and it made sense!), but totally forgot the moment my 1 1/2 refuses to go to sleep when Mommy is in the room.

At one and half, my little Xofia is beginning to be a handful. I think she forgot how to walk, she's running all the time. She has mastered throwing things at a precision that everytime she'd successfully hit her target, she'd beam with pride, clap her hands, say "bub" (her version of "good job"), and look around for a nod of approval. Her glowing pride will most definitely stop glowing when she'd see my serious, upset face. I then proceeded to lecture in toddler-ese how we don't throw things in a civilized world.

With eyes almost filled with tears but refusing to let herself cry, she'd walk away with shoulders down, and observe me from a distance. If a glance in the next minute is met with a neutral face, she'd let out the cutest smile and who am I to resist that. The moment I curve my lips into a smile, she'd come running to hug me.

Sometimes, my Harvey-Karp Method makes me feel like she's the grownup and I'm the baby. Those moments that she'd look at me about to cry, I have to stop myself from saying sorry for getting upset, that it was nothing what she did.

I just hope she remembers all those in the next 5 minutes before she rolled to the edge of the bed despite my stern warnings, and in a blink of an eye, hit her head on the floor and got a major boo-boo.

Thank God for ice packs!

Night, night! Don't let the bedbugs bite!

I have very, very sensitive skin. At least that's how my dermatologist describes my affliction. Yesterday, I finally went and saw a doctor. (Oh, congratulate me!) And because of the type of skin that I have, I am now to follow a strict skincare routine twice a day. Aside from that, I am to stay away from almost everything that this polluted world is basking in.

I have always wondered why I get welts so easily, why insects seem to see/smell me and make me their first victim in a crowd of hundreds. Either I smell really good (move over, Bella Swan) or I'm just totally unlucky. Among other sites, I consider bedbugbites.com an additional treasure when it comes to guides on bugs and insects. The site provides a lot of information about bed bugs, how to treat them and prevent them. Because bites differ from one person to another, they also provide pictures of bed bug bites to help you identify if what you got is really a bed bug's doing.

I don't want to come to a point where I have to worry how to treat the bites, heaven forbid, I need to know exactly how to identify if we have bed bugs at home. Once I get the bite, the welts will then develop into something terribly ugly. I then use lotions or creams, which in turn, irritates my skin and I'd get flare ups. So either I stop the bugs from getting close to me, or I pray I see them first and kill them before they get close to me. (Oh, I mean bugs, bugs. Not people). And if the unlucky me gets bitten, I can only use the most natural treatment devoid of any allergen. Ah, it's a blast to be me!

I have my family

With everybody's net worth dropping faster than ever, I can't help but get worried, as in REALLY worried.

• Is this the best time to buy a new couch? Maybe ours can still last another year before it breaks into two?
• Shall I stick with Gerber, which costs thrice than the Cerelac brand?
• Do we need to distribute our bank accounts to several banks? Not that we have plenty, but by default, the depositor is insured up to P250K only.
• Do I give up my monthly bonding time with my college friends? Yes, we agreed to pamper ourselves together, at least once a month.
• What about Xofia's diaper brand? Shall I switch to a cheaper one?
• Do we have to cut back on going out? What about Xofia's exposure to different kinds of people?
• My Friday dates with husband, does that have to go, too?

Sigh. Instead of thinking all those things, I think of happy thoughts and realize how lucky I am to:

• Still afford the mortgage with my family intact, with nobody needing to go abroad to work.
• Not have to pay for gas most of the time.
• Still afford my daughter's well-baby visits and vaccines.
• Have a loving husband who's a doting father and a good provider.
• Have the happiest, goofiest and sweetest daughter, and is the easiest to take care of.
  
• Have free internet courtesy of our friendly neighborhood wi-fi provider. Whoever you are, I'd like to thank you and let you know that you are such a good person for not blocking us from using your internet. Be assured that this translates to lots of good deed tickets in heaven (I think) and I promise not to harm your network, not that I know how to do that; and leave you in peace even if I can see your computer from the device list sometimes.
• Have a nanny who doesn't mind doing the extra work in the absence of another helper.
• Know how to cook such that we don't have to go to a fancy restaurant whenever we crave something delicious.
• Live in the heart of the city where everything is practically near and doesn't need a long drive, thus saving up on gas.
• Have friends who prefer house party and my cooking rather than eating out and paying extra for the food and ambiance.
• Still afford to pay the electricity bill without turning off the AC.
• Have the best in-laws who make it a point to bring us fresh produce from Ormoc every time they're in town.
• Have a sister who's always ready and willing to help out whenever we need something.

We may be needing to tighten our belts in these hard times, perhaps do a handful of things I enumerated above, but still, I am thankful. I have my family, and that is saying a lot.

What's inside my purse?

I remember {girl}fas had a challenge similar to this awhile back. That time, I was dead busy I wasn't able to do the fun challenge. This time around, Faery Rowan tagged me. I'm kindov hesitant but went with it anyway. It sure is fun embarrassing yourself :-P

Wait... are you sure you're ready for this? This purse of mine is such a mess, it's an embarrassment in itself hahaha!

Here are the rules. Find a safe, quiet place free of significant others, nosey meme makers, priests, nuns, all things religious and men in general. (If you're a guy, just reverse this process to fit males and tell us about your wallet, tool box, briefcase or metro sexual accessory.)

1. Dump the contents of your handbag in a pile.
2. Take a photo of your handbag and the contents.
3. Be brave and explain to your fellow bloggers what lurks inside the handbag.
4. Tag others who might want to embarrass themselves.
5. Answer these questions:

Describe the contents of your handbag.
What's the most important thing in your handbag?
What's the most embarrassing thing in your handbag?
What's the smallest thing in your handbag?
Is there anything illegal in your handbag?


Started by Mimi, Queen of Memes.

Here's a snapshot of the mess that is my purse:

Contains my company ID, some receipt, dessicant, shades and glasses, dental floss, bills, check book, kikay kit, and mini purse.

The mini purse contains:

compact powder, coin purse, cards, some money for paying the bills tomorrow. And no, it doesn't stop there. My kikay kit contains:

comb, two shades of Lip Candy lip gloss, cheek tint, Nivea lip conditioner, MK foundation, eyebrow pencil, Loreal concealer which I almost never use, and lastly, razor for slitting throats. Kidding. The razor is for wayward eyebrow hair. I don't pluck, hurts big time.

The most important thing in my handbag? The money, the check book. Gah, I'm so cheap. But let's face it, if I lose the money, what happens to the payables? I'm the budget officer of the household, it's important I keep everything within the budget, and to not lose the budget.

The most embarrassing thing in my handbag? Nothing in particular, but I didn't realize I bring lots of unnecessary things and stuff them in. I don't even use half of what's shown here. But a girl is a girl, and kikay things have to be within reach, right?

The smallest thing in my handbag? The dessicant. It's one of the manifestations of my being anal. I have to have a bag of dessicant in my purse to keep moisture (and consequently smell) away.

Anything illegal in my handbag? Has to be the razor. For all you know, I could go wacko and slit throats, you know :-P

Now, anyone who's up to embarrassing themselves, come grab the meme!

Barako coffee, anyone?

A friend is selling kapeng barako from Batangas at P350 per kilo. If you're from Cebu, and you're interested, let me know. :-)

---------------------------------------------------

A neurological condition?

Migraine. Nausea. That lasts through the day for 5 consecutive days. I learned from our Perception class that the brain has no pain receptors. It’s the membrane surrounding it that’s loaded with receptors. I can imagine my brain rising up and down as the pain ebbs and flows. I can imagine the muscles contract and the veins narrowing. Not a lovely image.

A quick trip to the company clinic got me Myonal and Sibelium. Myonal is a pain reliever that does so by relaxing the skeletal and vascular muscles. It’s a bit medical for me, but as long as it doesn’t alter anything much in my system, I’m for it. Sibelium on the other hand has to be taken for 7 days, 2 capsules before bedtime; and promised to stop the attacks. It also has even uglier side effects. The medication connotes chronic migraine. I’m not quite sure if I’m ready for that just yet. I took Myonal for two days, got as much rest as I could, and cursed the migraine. That managed the pain, enough to tell me I don’t need Sibelium just yet.

I’m doing all these myself because aside from writing the prescription, the doctor did not bother explaining to me what the meds will do. She did not even bother getting my vital signs during check-up. The check-up did not last one minute longer. I told her the symptoms; she presented the diagnoses while writing the prescription. Doubts were hanging over my head the moment I closed the clinic door. I haven’t had much luck on doctors who are not as thorough as you should expect them to be. Sure, they’ve had experience on the field, but this is my head we’re talking about, albeit literally.

Maybe I’ll have my eye checked; maybe have an MRI. Do I have a neurological disease? Or this is just astigmatism? Or maybe I’m just being paranoid. Paranoia and ignorance is a very deadly mix.

What about you, have you had similar experience? What kind of measures did you take? Do share and cure me from my ignorance.

image from http://i.ehow.com/

Shop online without shipping worries

Time, that’s what I don’t have. Household chores that I personally attend to are pushed back into the bottom of my TTD list. Having no time to do almost anything else besides work, I am left with considering the services of some supermarkets where they deliver your groceries to your doorstep. Personally, I have to look after for myself. And what’s the best activity any girl wished to indulge herself in when stressed? SHOPPING! How nice could it be if I was choosing between a heeled pair of pumps or a patent flats instead of numbing my fingers with keyboard strokes? What about the joy of an indecision brought about by two almost identical big purses? Right, I don’t have time to do that or DO I? Good thing there are companies like Access USA! I can now shop without wasting time going from one store to the next. I can shop online any day of the week, in my own time without shipping worries. What joy!

Access USA is the leader in package and mail forwarding since 1997. If like me, you live overseas, shopping online is almost shunned and avoided because most suppliers do not ship overseas. Not anymore. Access USA provides an array of services tailor-fit for us from overseas. Imagine yourself shopping for anything online from different retailers or suppliers without worrying for shipping hassles. The company lets you use their Florida address as your shipping address. Additionally, since the Address Verification System doesn’t work outside the US, you can add Access USA’s Florida address as your second address in your credit cards. Brilliant, eh? And as if those are not enough, Access USA consolidates your packages saving you up to 70% of shipping costs. For more information about the rest of their services, visit MyUS.com website.

Weekly Question: Nighttime Beauty Ritual

I have been wanting to join Teacher Julie's Weekly Question like 48 years ago. Then almost at the same time, my daily life got me so busy I never had the chance to do anything much online. This week, I just couldn't pass it up. I had to sit down and talk about.... ta-daaa.... nighttime beauty ritual!

What are your facial or beauty regimens that you do before you go to sleep?

I was not really that particular when taking care of my skin. Not a year ago, I didn't even bother with moisturizers. I felt like dipping my face with grease everytime I put on moisturizers. As long as I kept my face clean, I was at ease. Thank God I am at the oily side, the wrinkles kept at bay.

Then the reality of years piling up in my hips will undoubtedly show in my face. I had to face that fact before the physical evidence shows. I then hurriedly began my search for non-greasy moisturizers. I didn't know I was only being too lazy shopping anything for my face. There really were non-greasy moisturizers in the market, HA!

To keep my skin acne-free, I wash my face first, then put on moisturizers. To keep my skin soft and smooth, I exfoliate using Mary Kay products once a week, twice if I feel like it. Every other day, I cleanse with Clinique Pore Minimizer Thermal Active. The most important thing is that I moisturize twice a day, in the morning, and at night. It also helps that my moisturizer is 15 SPF. I couldn't imagine putting on moisturizer, then sunblock next.

For the rest of my skin, I exfoliate once a month, and moisturize everyday.

Blessed Bump

I've been tagged by Faery Rowan; and yes, it's true that my own pregnancy warrants a Hollywood contract. It's that crazy! Thanks, Atih, I had fun doing this! :-)

{START HERE}

Preggy Facts:

1. Who did you first inform about your pregnancy and how?
>> My husband. He was waiting right outside the bathroom door when I did the test :-)

2. Maximum weight?
>> 152 lbs. Oh, I was BIIIIIGGGGG!

3. Cravings?
>> No cravings, but I did want to always have a sweet, juicy watermelon all the time. I could finish an extra large one in one seating. Did I tell you I was big?

4. Aversions?
>> Holy cow! Almost everything. I had never experienced such heightened sense of smell, and everything just smelled so bad! The elevator, the malls, the supermarket, the people, their perfumes, even their makeup. I totally abandoned my cooking because the moment the pot hit the stovetop, I'd be running outside covering my nose. The site of anything oily will send me barfing, I cannot stand french fries and anything that is under the dairy family.

5. Morning Sickness?
>> For four long months. One time I had a very scrumptious dinner buffet at Marco Polo with husband and his siblings. I was able to keep the food down while we were at the restaurant, however the moment we got home, straight to the restroom I went; and barfed all Php800++ worth of gourmet. DISGUSTING!

D Day Facts:

1. Number of Kids/Deliveries?
>> One kid, one delivery.

2. NSD or CS?
>> Normal. No Epi, just Demerol to keep me asleep in-between contractions.

3. Girl or Boy?
>> Girl

4. AOG (age of gestation) on Birth?
>> Around 38 to 40 weeks.

5. How long in labor?
>> 24 hours. Read the harrowing ordeal here. Enjoy! :-)

Moms Who Played Along:

Mai | Yen | Eds | Vannie | Fun.Fierce.Fab | Bojoy | bonz | Pinaymama | Lourdes' Mia | Faery Dancing | Purpled Sky

{END COPY HERE}

I'm tagging Tash who gave birth to charming Athalia 4 months ahead of me.

Purpledsky and 7 things about her

I got another tag from faeryrowan; and this time, I'm supposed to tell the blogosphere 7 facts about me; facts that I haven't mentioned anywhere in this blog. Whew!

Here are the rules:
A. List these rules on your blog.
B. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog.
C. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.

Now, here are 7 things about me that I believe I haven't written in any of my blogposts yet.

1. I pack a mean punch. A friend once wondered if I really were a girl.
2. I once worked as a sales executive for Toshiba notebooks. Didn't last a year.
3. I *hate* human resource work. Never really utilized my college education.
4. I was there when my grandmother died. I saw how life slowly left her limp body.
5. I used to not like pasta until I made them myself. I believe I made them a lot tastier :-P
6. I am married to the most humble UP Law alumni there is in this planet. Yes, I am a lawyer's wife. :-P
7. My real name is Bernadette, after my grandfather's Bernardo; which means bold bear.

Now, I wanna know 7 more things about shimumsy, sheila, darlene, miss write, chef francis, caffeinated-muse, and rosilie.

i think i've changed.

image from http://shirt.woot.com

and i have no idea if it's for the better. it's not sad. i just get apathetic at times. if apathetic is what you call the way i never cared.

ten years ago, i would've bitten your head off and gleefully chomped on your bones if you ever as much moved my coffee cup. now, i look at you and think of myself ten years ago. hah!

alright, so it was a pity to go down that low, but i was a slave to my emotions back then. i lived and breathed (got that!) with every swing of my mood. i was confrontational; to some degree, i still am. but i no longer exert the effort if i see there's no point in doing so. because i can only expend myself that much, and i choose to use that energy on things much more important in my life. i'd still receive you if ever you choose to open the confrontation line with me, though. heck, i might even offer you my homemade butter cookies. just don't expect me to apologize for being misunderstood.

priorities change through time. mine has changed a great deal. and if you're somebody who'd need emotional maintenance from me all the time, i might back off, do some reality checking, and ultimately, shrug and smile. but oh, if you're worth it, surely i'd never mind going an extra mile. but here's the thing. those who are worthy will never give me any reason to go that unnecessary extra mile. i don't know. i guess in the end, i just don't care about trivialities anymore.

This is what happens

...when House Season 4 Finale refuses to playback in my VLC player.

And then I got super uneasy with the clutter of wires, usb cables, and electronic gadgets sitting behind my laptop. Ok, I can't see them, but I know they're there, and the thought of them lying there so unorganized and ugly just unsettles me.

And when a girl feels like that, she prettifies things. Her hand would itch, and she'd start grabbing scissors and patterned papers and ribbons and do something about it. This is the solution I came up with:

... a sturdy box that can stand relative wear and tear, wrapped in pretty, green paper, tied with a thin, shiny ribbon. The gadgets and cables are organized in individual pouches inside. See, she opens pretty, too:

She'll stay behind my laptop area on the table where it's easy for me to grab whatever I need. Now, she even matches my file organizer I did awhile back from a cereal box:

House MD can wait while I wonder why I'm calling my gadget storage box a "she".



I know, it's so gay. That's the whole point :-P

How Xofia came out to this world

I haven’t really talked about my childbirth here. But if you know me, I’ve been whining about it every time the subject comes up. Yes, it’s still that vivid and fresh for me. So if you’re willing, journey with me back to goosebumps and intense labor pains.

At my 7th month, I was already huffing and puffing and waddling my way through everything. All physical tasks, even the simplest ones like getting up and walking just seemed too heavy for me to be doing. All I wanted to do was lay in the couch where I can turn to my sides whenever I need to with an airconditioner positioned right in front of me. Most of all, I already wanted to give birth and get it done and over with.

“But we want the baby at her optimum health,” the doctor reminded me. What is another 2 months? She’d add. That’s actually the only thing that kept me going during that heavy and long two months of bloated-ness. Here we go, full-term it is!

On Thursday morning two months later, I noticed a drop of blood with my pee. That was 8:30 am. My husband panicked. I was ecstatic. Finally, this is almost over! My OB-GYN ever so calmly told me not to panic and that it could just be because I a couple of days before, I underwent an IE stripping my membranes; and just to feel secured, I can have myself evaluated in the hospital. If ever I give birth today, she won’t be around because she’s in Manila attending a conference. Right. What a perfect timing! Good thing we have a backup OB-GYN.

We decided to wait it through, and stayed home the whole morning. I got bored taking down notes and timing my contractions the whole time that I suggested we both report for work in the afternoon. I felt like I might be wrong, that the baby will not be getting out anytime soon after all. The contractions were still few and far between.

So I went to work, went back home and cooked dinner. At around 10:00 pm, when I was plopping myself in the couch with my feet raised infront of the TV, I felt the pain started from the front and traveled to the back. Okay, so I’ve read the books, and I remembered the books saying labor is not true labor if the pain stays in front, it has to include the back.

Very calmly, I told my husband that I might be having true labor now, and that I thought it was time we check with the hospital and have myself evaluated. No, I don’t have the intention of having myself admitted; I only want to know what is happening in there. I even told my husband to bring the luggage back to the car. He insisted we bring it with us just in case.

At 11:00 pm I was ushered to the IE room. The resident told me I was still at 1 cm. “OK, so can I go home now?” “Let’s check the status of the baby first, Ma’am,” she implored.

After like hours lying in the labor room monitoring my baby’s heartbeat and shushing to themselves, the interns called my doctor and reported the test results; which I was not allowed to be privy to at the moment.

“You are getting admitted,” the intern told me while hurriedly preparing IVs.
“What? Why?! I thought I was only at 1 cm still.” I got up and looked at her.
“Your baby’s heartbeat is not what we hoped for it to be. It’s fluctuating. You have to be induced.”
I just blinked and lied back down. I patted my stomach and attempted a talk with the little one. “Hey, you there. Don’t make this hard for Mommy, OK? You hang in there and be strong. I’m gonna be seeing you in a while.”

The painful contractions started at around 2:00 am. Must be what they used to induce my labor with. It was far between for like an hour, and I was just keeping to myself oblivious to the whimpers and labor cries all around me. I was busy keeping my mind somewhere else and focusing on my breathing just like I practiced.

At 3:00 am, I started daydreaming how wonderful it could be if I went through this pain-free. I wanted and epidural! The pain is increasing and the contractions are getting closer from each other. I started to shout for my doctor’s name.

“She’s on her way,” the interns would assure me.
“At least give me something to help with the pain.” I cried.
An intern came up to me with a shot of Demerol.
“Oh, thank you! Will that lessen the pain?”
“No, Ma’am. It will only allow you to sleep in between contractions so you can rest. We can’t give you an epi without your doctor.”
I was only being sedated. In between contractions. I can still feel the real beauty of true labor pains. Nice.

At 5:00 am, I was ready to crawl all the way up to the ceiling. I felt like it was the only thing I could do to ease the pain. I asked God if He still wanted me to do this and if this is not a cruel joke of His. I went on and demanded a dialog. If He’s going to claim my life today, He better see to it that my daughter is in the best hands. But please, if possible, just don’t kill me yet. I wanna see my daughter grow up and see if she’s gonna look like me. All I got was a smile and a reassuring wink. Guess He already knew I could get through it epi-free.

My OB-GYN arrived at 6:30 am. At last! I cried for epi. Please give me my friend epi! Please!

“Yes, we will. We’re still waiting for the anesthesiologist,” she reassured me while holding her morning cup of coffee. I should have checked if she meant it. Turned out she was only killing time up until I was fully dilated. She had no intention of giving me the epi after all.

I was at 6-7 cm. By this time, I have lost count how many times I was IEd. From time to time, a bored intern would come over and massage my hips which was a welcome treat.

Then the contractions came one after the other. I’d hit the wall and pull myself up with the bed railing. The pain was just nothing I’ve ever experienced before. There was just nothing like it. Nothing I could ever compare it with. Not even the worst dysmenorrhea I’ve ever had. The pain ebbed and surged with the contractions. If the pain goes on continuously without pause, I most certainly have died hours ago.

By the time I was 8-9 cm, the doctor ordered a rupture. They’re going to break whatever it is they need breaking. A wheelchair was placed near my bed, ready to transport me to the Delivery Room.

My dear doctor has forgotten my epi. I thought sadly. Being heavily sedated and tired I retreated and accepted that I am having this epi-free thinking the worst is yet to come.

When full dilatation was achieved (because of their own machinations, mainly), I was wheeled to the DR. It hurt to sit up much more bring myself to sit and transfer to the wheelchair. I was half-carried mostly. All the time I was drenched in cold sweat and groggy from the pain and natural anesthetics. The next thing I knew, I was spread-eagled lying on my back on the delivery table.

The instructions were given, and a handful of interns surround me ready for whatever emergencies there may be. I silently hoped they had the operating table prepped and ready as well. An intern climbed and stayed at the top of the table. If I was in a different situation, I’d be looking questioningly at her and demanded for her to climb down. At this point, I was in total surrender to the people around me, so I let her be. They’ve done this countless of times already; they must know what they’re doing. I don’t.

When it was time for me to push, the girl on the table pushed my stomach down and poof came the baby’s head. So, the girl on the table has some purpose after all. The next push, she joined with me, and together, we got Xofia Enia out. At 8:58 Friday morning. With cord coiling around the neck and arm! I am now a true believer of miracles.

The first time I heard my baby cry was nothing short of pure bliss. So this is how it feels. I got up and reached for my baby. The nurses told me not to hold her, everything’s sterile, and my hands weren’t. I was only allowed to kiss her in the forehead. I kissed my baby, blood, goo and all. It was the most beautiful thing ever.

They had to wash and bring my baby to the nursery. I needed time to rest and recover. The realization hit me. I no longer felt the pain. I thought getting her out would be the most painful, but hey, it was the best part of the whole experience. I felt such relief washed over me. I didn’t even feel anything when I expelled the afterbirth. I felt light and sleepy. Finally, I no longer look like a stressed blowfish without the spikes.

it pays to save... early

for my birthday.

May is just around the corner, and I promised myself I’m never having a party. The budget for that can go to Xofia's (planned) intimate 1 year birthday party.

Still, I want this turning 25 (way palag!) be as memorable. So, how can this be memorable for me, you may ask. Oh, this duo can make that day extra special, swear:

Nigella Express: 130 Recipes for Good Food, Fast (Hardcover) because hey, I’m a homemaker and a careerwoman, I do need inspirations from the luscious Nigella.

Happiest Toddler on the Block: How to Eliminate Tantrums and Raise a Patient, Respectful and Cooperative One- to Four-Year-Old: Revised Edition because most of all, I’m a new parent and my little peanut is about to turn 1. Help me!!!

Only two books. I promise these gifts will be well-appreciated and well-used. And oh, if they're too heavy for you to be lugging around (because they're hardcovers), I accept GCs from Powerbooks :-)