Happiness

Got up in the wee hours of the morning and couldn't go back to sleep. I'm still hung over this song from yesterday's activity in school. I'm glad I found this video...the teachers will be thrilled.

If I could add lines to this song, these are some top-of-mind ideas I have for now:

Happiness is...
...eating pasta and not having to keep a calorie count.
..."okay, mom!"
...getting eight hours of sleep.
...watching the moon from my bedroom window.
...big ideas for a better world.
...big ideas for a better me.
...ticking off items in my to-do list.
...a new box of sharpened colored pencils.
...eloquence.
...Once, the movie and the soundtrack.
...taking naps.
...a hearty laugh with friends.
...a heartfelt cry with friends.
...Saturday afternooons.
...hugs and kisses from Reisa and River.
...being in love like the very first time.
...being in love.
...being.

What is happiness to you?


I'm feeling: like going back to bed.
I'm listening to: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Tribute to the Gym

I've been going regularly to the gym since July of last year. It started as an effort to trim down a bit and lose the extra pounds. My friends will kill me if they read that last sentence because I don't really put on weight like other people my age do. Credit goes to my fast metabolism, I suppose, although I swear, it has somehow slowed down in the past years.

Anyway, the reason for the thrice-a-week visits to the gym was because I began noticing that I tired faster. Being a teacher-mom requires physical exertion; running after kids being the most demanding of all. I felt then that I wasn't as quick and as bouncy as I used to be.

At first I went for the dance classes and spent increasing time at the treadmill. I literally danced like no one was watching. It was liberating to have your own small space to make your moves to Beyonce and Shakira tunes, and to find that there were thirty others in the room who were having a grand time as well. I had to part with the treadmill after two months because I was doing too much cardiovascular training.

The next group exercise I discovered were the weight lifting classes. I've never considered myself a strong person; quick to move, maybe, but not powerful. I don't really do heavy weights but I've slowly increased my load from the time I started. Push-ups that used to be my Achilles' heel are now one of my favorite portions of the routine. I've noticed too that my abs, triceps and biceps are already taking shape.

A new gym activity I'm loving now is the tai-chi/yoga/pilates combo class that really challenged my flexibility in the beginning. I'm still nowhere near being Mrs. Incredible, but I learned from that class the importance of balancing and breathing, of ridding the mind of worries, of quieting the soul. I didn't know before how the body, mind, and spirit could move together with such grace.

It's ironic how a sense of calm envelopes me at the gym amidst the blaring & pumping sounds from the background. More than the aerobic activity itself, it's the exercise of physically detaching myself from responsibility, and immersing myself in pleasure, strength-building, and solitude that keeps me going back. It's the time and place I've set aside for my lone self.

The gym gives me more than just a workout. More importantly, it's a work in.


I'm feeling: the fact that I haven't exercised in six days.
I'm listening to: no reason why I can't go tomorrow.

In The Company of Women

The teachers and I are on to something. We had agreed to improve on our faculty lounge, to make it more of a haven, a sanctuary that's separate from the battlefield that is the classroom. A safe room that we can run to when we want some peace and quiet. A time out that we call for ourselves.

Whether single, married, with or without children, we all committed to transforming the teacher's lounge into a sensual and soulful feast for the six teachers who will occupy it for the school year. For our well-being, not as teachers, but as women.

I like it.

Here are some ideas that we thought we could add in the room:

• Eye candy such as flowers, a display of artwork and photos

• Mood music to fill our tired ears

• Mouth fest of sweets such as cookies, chocolates, and other yummy treats for sharing

• Delightful scents like potpourri, candles, and oils

• Feel-good pillows and fabric for the couch, quaint curtains

• Soul food in the form of books, poetry, inspirational thoughts, or personal stories to tell

It's rather amazing how each one of us is able to relate to this need. We are so different and yet the same. Women.


I'm feeling: the need to pamper myself.
I'm listening to: the voice that's telling me 'Go!'

Random Poetry

My mom and sister recently gave me this book, How To Have Creative Ideas by Edward de Bono. The book features 62 exercises that tap the mind into thinking creatively.

Here's one such exercise on poetry that's quoted from the book:

1. Obtain two random words.
2. The first word obtained gives the last word in the first line.
3. The second line of the poem ends with a word which you choose to rhyme with the first line.
4. The second random word forms the last word of the third line in the poem.
5. The fourth line ends with a word you choose to rhyme with the third line.

From the book's table of random words, the ones I got were brakes and end. Here it goes:

Step on the brakes
Do whatever it takes
Place a dot, put an end

I'm beginning to mend.

That was fun. And fast. And random. Or not.

I'm feeling: bloated from the junk food I ate all day.
I'm listening to: my daughter asking if she could use my laptop.

My Bed Bugs Don't Bite

My kids are finally sleeping in their own room. Started more than a month ago. They have a sleepover in my bedroom on the weekends, or when they explain, "But we miss you, mom."

I was unsuccessful in making my firstborn sleep in her own room six years ago when she was still our only child. She was willing to try it out, but I was the one not quite ready for it then. My husband worked late nights and it didn't make sense to me why my daughter and I had to sleep in separate rooms. It was lonely.

The compromise came shortly after, when the family bought a pull-out bed that was supposed to be for the kids. Tiny but sure steps, right? Well, the kids hardly used the bed; it became my husband's crib, much to his dismay. He'd complain every morning of backaches, but what could he do? The kids always beat him to his spot on the main bed.

This summer has been the perfect time for the big move. The kids are discovering more things to do together. Sure they fight like they'll never speak to each other again, but still. They're free to stay up and rise later than usual. They read their books and play their mellow music to lull them to sleep. It's amazing how well they took to this new arrangement, like clockwork. Everything in its own place and time.

The weekend sleepovers are just as interesting. They announce on Thursdays that tomorrow is sleepover night, and nothing is going to get in the way of that. There's always a discussion, a battle as to who gets to sleep beside me. The 10-year-old argues it's always you, while the second-born defends himself but I'm just five! We agree on a pattern: he, she, he she, he, she. That does not fully solve it because both kids need to physically connect with me, whether arm to leg, foot to foot, hand to face, or hair to hair. While the three of us are busy figuring out our choreography, their dad sets up his pull-out bed.

Some things will never change.


I'm feeling: like wearing a hair clip for dinner out with my family tonight.

I'm listening to: myself thinking, "if I could only remember where I put that clip..."

Separation Anxiety

New things are happening in my work life, and it's taking me all this time for it to finally sink in.

I won't be handling my own class this year ('though I'll be assisting in one) to fill in the big shoes of a partner who rightfully needs to find her own place elsewhere. I'm still thankful that I'll get to spend three hours a day inside the classroom; I cannot imagine not being able to be part of the fun, chaos, spontaneity, excitement, and the creation of masterpieces like these:

I'll continue doing my tasks as school director, but will take on the daily administrative chores that I thought I'd left behind when I quit being part of the corporate world ages ago. That means more office work for me, and so far, this is the hat I like wearing the least. So far.

New possibilities and ideas are brewing, too, about expanding for next school year--a progressive grade school is in the offing. But that's another topic altogether and the only thing I can say about it now is that the thought of it opens a whole new window (no, door) of opportunities for our professional growth. Must. Think. About. It.

I am currently experiencing separation anxiety from things familiar; it's a shift from frolicking in my comfort zone to diving into the deep unknown. But like what we tell our parents whose children are going to school for the first time, separation anxiety is just a phase that they go through in order for them to move forward. With the support of their parents, these young children will eventually learn to trust their new environment and realize that school is a fun, friendly and safe place to be. I should learn from this bit of wisdom because like our kids in school, I, too, am a creative explorer. I will find a way to make sense of everything that's happening around me.

I told my former partner at work the other day, these are good times. I need to believe that this is true for me as well.


I'm feeling: homesick with my kinder kids. Thanks, Kit, Josh, and Eljo for the illustrations.

I'm listening to: the chirping of birds outside my window, signaling that it's the start of a new day.

On Piano Lessons

One of the chores I enjoy doing is bringing my daughter to her piano lessons.

Going to her class is bonding time for us--just mother and daughter, listening to our favorite music, singing along, playing silly, or sharing our thoughts with each other. We get to her school, she goes in, and for thirty minutes, it's alone time for me. While reading my book, the wind wistfully makes its presence felt, and I willingly bask in the warmth it gives me. My ears feast on the music that's ringing from the different corners of the place. It's a free piano, violin, or marimba concert and I am the awed audience.

My daughter comes out of the room, her look that of a joyful learner. She doesn't know that my heart is fuller.


I'm feeling: happy.
I'm listening to: Reisa's Fur Elise playing in my head.

Play

When you start having kids, it's close to impossible pursuing things just for the fun of it. Having to keep up with the children's busy schedules and immediate concerns, there just isn't enough time for play, my play, that is.

Last year, though, I consciously made an effort to find time to do the things I've been putting off for a long time--things that give me sheer joy and pleasure. I know now that it's important to have my own space and time to nurture myself so that I can be a better giver to others.

My Current Play List:

1. Website-seeing. Having DSL installed at home was well-worth it.
2. 
   
3. Going to the gym. As the Lifehouse song goes, "It's easy to be who you are when no one knows your name."

1. Jamming on the piano. More like playing chords while singing my favorite Dishwalla and Coldplay songs.
2. 
   
3. iPod in random play. I like to be surprised.
4. 
   
5. Reading more novels. It helps that I'm getting along with my new reading lamp.
6. 
   
7. Watching DVDs. Please don't ask me about titles or actors, my memory always fails me.
   

Now if time or money were no object, I'd love to turn these dreams into reality.

My Play Wish List:

1. Whitewater rafting. Grand Canyon this time, haha!
2. 
   
3. A tour of Italy with Reisa. We'll have the best pasta in Naples, among other things.
4. 
   
5. Beach + hammock + good book
6. 
   
7. Learn to play chord embellishment on the piano. I'm too old for the classics.
8. 
   
9. Learn to cook. If talent were no object, too. ;-)
   

Many times, it really doesn't take much to find leisure in the comforts of my own home. All it takes is a room to myself, drawn curtains, a fresh bed, and a mind that can shut down from all the worries of the moment.


I'm feeling: like having a cup of hot chocolate.

I'm listening: to the symphony of wind and rain on a summer afternoon.

Love

The Eskimo has fifty-two names for snow because it is important to them; there ought to be as many for love. (Judith Viorst)

In my book, these are the names for love:

Reisa, my ten-year-old, who, despite our fights and tantrums, tells me that I am the best mother in the world. Her every word, silence, look, wish, tear, laughter teaches me about unconditional love -- how can someone so critical of me be the same powerhouse of love, no matter what? I love you all the way up to the moon and back, Ren.

River, my five-year-old, who likes to quiz me, "Are you good or bad, mom?," after being scolded. He pauses for a while and answers the question himself..."Umm, good." He makes me laugh and cry at the same time. I love you to infinity and beyond, Riv.

My husband, Benjou, for his unfaltering love. You are a wonderful father to our kids.

My Santos family who reminds me of my history and gives me a strong sense of what I want for my future. My Elgincolin family who has a bottomless well of love for my kids. I am grateful for the support both have blessed my family with.

The teachers and staff of Creative Explorers who are like family to me. You teach with such great love, thank you. Group hug.

The school's creative explorers who inspire me to teach. You, with your little hands and big dreams, make me proud. Special mention goes to my 16 Kinder kids who always let out a smile when they hear me in my British accent. High fives to you from Harrietta Potter.:-)

My friends who, despite their busy schedules, still remember to text, email, call, or get together. Do appreciate the good conversations that make it hard for me to sleep after.


Just the other night, while the kids and I were lying in bed, River taught me another name for love. I was bending over to kiss Reisa goodnight and accidentally fell on top of my son. Sleepy and a bit cranky as he was, he made a big fuss and pretended to be hurt by the incident. Sorry, Riv. Love you! I said. He budged after a while. Okay, fine. L-O-V, read that, mom!

Lov.

I'm feeling: like I have a loose screw in my head.
I'm listening to: my kids and their friends playing.

Work

I remember one of Robert Fulghum's stories about finding it difficult to answer that question which defines who you are: What is it that you do? Didn't he finally decide on saying "I'm a breather of life" or something like that, for lack of a more apt and specific word? But really, how do you sum up in a sentence, a phrase something so immense?

What is it that I do? I teach preschool kids. And anyone who's had the experience of being with children will tell you it's not that easy. Sixteen children in a class, all coming from different family backgrounds, each having his own needs, moods, values, skills, character, and wanting your attention all at the same time. But it's what I love about it. I crave for the whole process of preparing lesson plans, making materials, communicating with children, teaching them, learning from them, managing behaviors, witnessing their growth, and liaising with their parents. Outside the classroom, I'm always on the lookout for new ideas that I can use with the children, a stroke of inspiration to make me a better teacher. I thrive on this creative process of educating children and being part of their young, impressionable lives.

But that's just one portion of what I do. I also respond to the following titles: preschool owner, administrator, program director, finance manager, teacher trainer, guidance counselor, cashier, receptionist, cleaner, guard. That's a lot of hats to wear in my workplace alone, but I will not trade my job for anything else. It's a crazy roller coaster ride but I'd rather be in it than just watch from the sidelines. The view from the top is incredible too, so if the only way up is to start down, or stay down many times over, I'd still take the ride.

Winston Churchill said "We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give." What I receive financially from my work really isn't much. But I am blessed to be accorded the chance to make something of my life by giving a piece of myself to these children. I am quite a millionaire that way.

What is it that I do? In a nutshell, I am a giver, and for that I am enriched in many, immeasurable ways.


I'm feeling: like I am where I should be.
I'm listening to: the Backyardigans singing on TV.

Welcome To My WorldWildWeb!

Excuse me, but I need a journal.

A quiet place I can come home to at the end of the day to unload my burdens, smile about little anecdotes, tell trivial and important stories, share lessons learned, and just fire away my random thoughts.

This is my world, my wild web of interwoven details about my passion at work, the many loves I cherish, and finding time for play. As I'm writing this, I realize how seamlessly my work, love and play flow into each other. Like how the river meets the sea.

And so, welcome! I've opened a box of colored pencils for you. Choose a color and scribble something--anything. I'd love to hear from you.


I'm feeling: refreshed.
I'm listening to: the sound of my own silence.