Stats down and site visitors reduced, I felt quite compelled to speak. Not that I have to explain. This hour, those usually zesty neurons are zonked out, and my body is close to surrendering itself entirely to the bed. But alas, requirements must be met and on-time. It is only 9:30, yes, and a friend, surprised, once exclaimed, “WHO THE HELL SLEEPS AT 9?!”.
A mom, that is. At the end of the day, she’s just dry and flat as wheat. I will not go into details, but what I could say is, ladies, you will get there, and when you do, you will simply nod and tell yourself, now I know why she didn’t seem to have time for anything else other than cookies before bed.
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| A beach retreat would be nice ’round this time. |
A few points:
1. Nearly three weeks ago, there was pure panic when I learned I had to be somewhat laid off from work. A day later I signed up for ODesk and a couple of clients entrusted projects to me. At the same time, an old colleague assigned a couple of press releases. The guys from where I used to work also asked for revised proposals, brochures and corporate profiles. Someone referred me to a client who now has me creating four 500-word articles a day. Work is B-O-U-N-tiful. No weekends as usual. I am beat.
I am not complaining; I am beyond grateful. Never knew freelancing could be this lucrative.
I am not complaining; I am beyond grateful. Never knew freelancing could be this lucrative.
But the days do tend to be overwhelming, particularly because my daughter decided that she will not just stand there and play while I work. She now breastfeeds – most times upright, in a squat or tumbled over – every 30 minutes day and night, and she will throw a temper tantrum if I lay a fingertip on the laptop while she feeds.
The tantrums get worse by the minute. It has gotten to a point where I want to hide in the kitchen and down two kilos of chocolate in one sitting.
2. There are things I want to write about other than hair removal techniques and marketing content. Like our short-lived Pawikan Sanctuary trip. Tagaytay in December. J. Co’s soul-stirring donuts and other desserts my tongue had the pleasure of sampling recently. I have tremendous backlog in blog entries. But right now, as much as I want to, there’s just no time. Yet.
3. Yesterday, I made a pact with myself, which I shared on Facebook.
3. Yesterday, I made a pact with myself, which I shared on Facebook.
Lia sat on the colorful mats tinkering with the erasable board her Daddy brought home last night. She drew what looked like an armadillo, though with the superbly elongated tail, it might have been a magical snake.
She stopped momentarily, bit the pen while examining her masterpiece. Perhaps she’ll be a Picasso someday. Her intent and focus were dumbfounding. She has never stopped that long to mull over things. Like a ripple in a mad storm, she is in constant motion: scooting up the staircase, walking to and fro the dining room to the couch, hauling utensils out the kitchen drawer. Even in her sleep, she would wave a hand as she snores.
That moment made me laugh. For at the same time, she was a curious 13 month old, and oddly enough, a blooming grown-up figuring out the sense in her actions. It also made me realize that I don’t ever want moments like that to slip away without meaning. They may mean little to her when she grows up, but it would mean the world to me when she’s already venturing out into the world on her own and all I am is an old hag in a wooden chair, looking out the tangerine sunset.
A door that swings both ways, as I please.
Ergo, nearly impossible as it is, I made the promise that I will write of her each day, no matter how trivial or ordinary the day was. Here’s to hoping promises will be kept.
She stopped momentarily, bit the pen while examining her masterpiece. Perhaps she’ll be a Picasso someday. Her intent and focus were dumbfounding. She has never stopped that long to mull over things. Like a ripple in a mad storm, she is in constant motion: scooting up the staircase, walking to and fro the dining room to the couch, hauling utensils out the kitchen drawer. Even in her sleep, she would wave a hand as she snores.
That moment made me laugh. For at the same time, she was a curious 13 month old, and oddly enough, a blooming grown-up figuring out the sense in her actions. It also made me realize that I don’t ever want moments like that to slip away without meaning. They may mean little to her when she grows up, but it would mean the world to me when she’s already venturing out into the world on her own and all I am is an old hag in a wooden chair, looking out the tangerine sunset.
A door that swings both ways, as I please.
Ergo, nearly impossible as it is, I made the promise that I will write of her each day, no matter how trivial or ordinary the day was. Here’s to hoping promises will be kept.
In honor of promises, here’s what’s up for today:
When people ask me when I plan to make a follow-up baby, I say, never again. Too difficult and too costly to raise, I explain. And while that is totally true, what I never tell them is that I am beyond content with the Little Miss. She for me, is sufficient. And because despite her being the driving force behind my hair-pulling incidents and her making me scream at the top of my lungs on an hourly basis, I don’t think I could ever love another kid as much as I love her.
Cheesy!!!
So there. Points made. Now back to regular programming.
Hmmm you might want to reconsider that, for the benefit of Lia 🙂 i'm an only child and i can attest to the fact that giving her a sisters or brothers bonded to her by blood for the rest of her life will do wonders for her person 🙂 🙂
though yes i'd admit that kids really are too costly to raise. hehe. have a good day!
http://www.delighteduniverse.com
Friends and relatives who are an only child like you do describe their condition as rather lonely. I'm not closing doors here, but it will take a long time for me to reconsider. For nor, all we can handle and afford is one (sometimes even barely so, hehe). Any more and that is pushing it waaay too much.
Awesome blog by the way 🙂