Tinuohang Buktot

Today's Easter, celebration of rebirth and fertility for all sorts of denominations and my favorite goddess figure (Astarte). No matter what you believe in, everyone seems to want to get a piece of this celebration pie. The flavor is presumably egg.

Another reason to celebrate is that the boring days are over - baby's aunts and uncles are here for the holidays and are keeping me on the move. Island hopping is out of the question though, despite getting multiple invitations over the week to go T_T. Maternal lola's afraid that if I waterbirth in the middle of the sea, baby might escape and become Aquaman.

Sorry Aquaman, even my mom thinks you suck.

So far, we've trekked to the farm to get coconuts; failed at getting coconuts by getting distracted by guavas; tried not to get trampled on by horses; failed to acquire XP points by running away from every sound encountered on the hike back to the house after sundown (sorry bunch of adventurers are we); and marathoned season 2 of Game of Thrones in preparation for tomorrow's season 3 premiere. We'll probably get it on torrent a day after tomorrow, and thankfully the show runners don't mind. Yarr!

Since maternal lola's protests about the religiously offensive tone of my previous post, I decided to dedicate this post to being deliberately offensive of out dated belief, especially those regarding babies.

Week 35: Holy (Shit) Week

I apologize for the later-than-usual-post, daddy creature crossed the sea and stayed for a couple of days to check out baby's balls (via his latest ultrasound photo).

The sore throat WAS gone for a couple of days, but now I have this cold. I suspect it's maternal lola's room with all its hidden nooks and crannies that forgo a regular dusting. I also suspect the insomnia is due to inactivity for most of the day. While the partner was here, we spent the nights at the family bed and breakfast below maternal lola's hill and had to climb every mealtime to get to the nomz. Results? I've been sleeping like a person without an internal kicking baby for most of the night. I still wake up to pee tho, but it's progress. There is also much pelvic pressure and I've started waddling like a duck.

Doctor advised I do 30 minutes of waddling walking everyday to make sure baby doesn't delay. She also said I'm good as due within 2 weeks, so I should have the pool ready soon

HOLY SHIT.

Pregnant Teens and Unwed Mommies: Another rant.

 I'm coming up with so many rants I should just make a whole new page dedicated to ranting.


I did the most horrible thing one can do in the 21st century to another person: I unfriended them on facebook.

It was over a status message he posted. I can't copypasta anymore since I did remove the dolt as soon as I read his post, but paraphrased, it went something like "Why do kids get pregnant younger and younger nowadays? Is TEET really that great? Boys are having TEET!"

I know half of the post didn't make sense, but I didn't like what it was implying, so instead of hiding him from my feed, I unfriended him. It wasn't a major loss since the person was really a work-related acquaintance rather than an actual friend. And if he was ranting about the ails of immoral under-aged coupling, maybe he wasn't such a valuable work-related resource for my lucrative career as a pornographer. Kidding.

I can't call myself a teen anymore, so why the reaction?

Of Gods and Amigurumi Monsters

I AM EARTH GODDESS!

(Repeat x number of times until completely deluded)

I'm on break from crochetry because my fingers are numb. I feel like my finger muscles got a little bit brawnier from my efforts, but doing it at night isn't doing much for my eyesight.

The insomnia is getting worse. Apart from baby's kicking, it's the water breaks and the bathroom runs that keep me up til the wee (whoops) hours of the morning. I'm just sooo thirsty at night.

The good news is that I've graduated from doilies and have moved on to beanies!

*Confetti*

I followed this tutorial. Coincidentally, the maternal lola got me material in around the same color.

For those of you too lazy to click the tutorial, this is the hat it's supposed to make:

This is my hat:

Anyone want a BJD-sized head-sock?

I learned too late about different sized yarns and hooks, and sadly, the kinds most online patterns require aren't widely available in this side of the country. T_T

Maternal lola was keeping me in the doily dark. T_T

So while I'm waiting on daddy-creature to get me the appropriate yarn for baby's stuff, I ended up looking for projects that I could use all this thread for, and I found Amigurumi.

Although most of the amigurumi patterns still ask for thicker yarns than the ones I have (worsted weighted as opposed to my flimsy size 8 crochet thread), you don't have to wear amigurumi, so it's fine to make miniature versions of the proposed projects.

Imo, the tinier versions are ADORABLE AS F*CK. Like Dobermans(men?) and mini pinschers; Pajeros and baby pajeros; Humans and babies.

One flower-filled night pre-baby, I thought maybe the nature of the divine is "Cute". Cuteness is universal. Have you ever seen a baby anything and not die from cuteness? Even animals cave in to cute:

I'd like to think that our Creation Gods are not the mighty Olympians who saw us as mites, but the tiny cells working away to grow us, the same way we build cities and become blind to the overall impact of our creations. As the father unit used to sing "The big bang never ended". As Ninong Ben put it, "In a way, that's what science is on to already- our cells all contain "programming". It would take a very tiny entity to program it! All the Whos down in Whoville?"

He's not even out yet, and everything I'm doing is already for this small would-be tyrant growing inside me. <3

As a tribute to the small Gods, I got to work on this:

Week 34: Down With the Sickness

Weeee're down to 6 weeks and I'm stuck in bed.

I just woke up one morning to an itchy throat. I don't know how I got it. I have several suspects:

1.) My water bottle spending too much time in the refrigerator mingling with Godzilla-Knows-What.
2.) Maybe it's time the electric fan got dusted.
3.) Unwashed fruit that went straight into my mouth.

The last bit comes from the bad habit of acting like every fruit I pop into my mouth came straight from the tree. It's not usually a problem when the fruit comes with natural packaging (oranges, bananas, lansones); or if someone else had the gumption to wash the fruit before I grabbed it. On normal days, my immune system is epic. Unfortunately, pregnancy gives you a -3 modifier to CON.

The doctor said something months ago about going straight to her if I got sick, as a 3 day cold could turn into pneumonia for the baby.

My friend google says otherwise, that the disease won't cross the placenta since it's respiratory, but that my antibodies would.

Who to trust, google or doktora?

On the second day of the sore throat, Mommy went on a mini trek to the family farm over the weekend to pick wild guavas. Figured maybe the sun and air would fix me.

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

The VCO Experiment Part 3 (Update and Conclusion)

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So I'm starting to figure out that you're supposed to make tutorials AFTER you've mastered something, or else you're going to end up with constant updates. And heartbreak from false expectation. And suicide. Okay maybe not suicide.

Obviously, my subconscious was on to my noobishness, hence the title of this series having the word "experiment" in it - a caveat that f*ckingshit, this girl has no idea what she's doing.

I'm just as confused as you are. I just thought you should know. It isn't you, it's me.

I thought the experiment done with this post and me at least getting a small bottle's worth of oil for all the trouble, until I noticed the "useless" curd was STILL separating. Clear stuff was rising to the surface (clearer than the "oil" I'd gleaned from the first few steps) while white was sinking and turning into a cream color. Yuck.

I just figured that this was virgin coconut oil too, and started the tedious process of transferring the clear liquid into my oil jar by spoon. Then I put the stuff in the refrigerator and left the rest of the curd on a table.

Some 6 hours later, I went to check on the oil in the ref and found that the new clear oil had hardened into a plastic-looking disc. The old "oil" was still on the bottom of the jar, still in its liquid form. I took the plastic disc out and let it melt in another bowl.

That was about a week ago. The curd is still separating! Meanwhile, the clear oil that melted from the plastic disc is what I'm using (I got around the same amount as what I thought was the final product) while the "oil" I got from following the tutorial went bad. I doubt oil's supposed to do that.

In conclusion, the tutorial I was following seemed legit, but its all lies!!! And because I'm the kind of asshole that hates leaving you guys chained to the wall and following shadow-tutorials, I'll go refine the process and post a proper tutorial. With better pictures. When baby-daddy is in my side of the sea with his fancy 5D by then. Wa ko nagpadungog Chris. Hehe.

Being Gay: It's not a choice. (Warning! Another rant post)

First the embarrassing Anne Hathaway/Ricky Lo video, now this article. Naunsa naman ning Philstar ui.

Maybe they're trying to regain readership by deliberately trolling people.

And you, Madame Tintin Babao, I'd think you'd at least maintain a certain degree of journalistic integrity worthy of your column, AND broadsheet. The kind of integrity that requires you to set personal bias aside in favor of the truth. At the very least you cannot afford to be stupid with such delicate subjects such as this, because too many people listen to you make Unang Hirit on parenting issues and think you're a legit role model because they had breakfast everyday to you reading a tele-prompter.

Alas I forget, as many often do, you are a celebrity and not a scientist. The truth is not your priority, ratings are.

Auntie Faith pointed out that maybe Tintin was pandering to public opinion. The outrage over this article within my facebook stream alone makes me wonder if it IS public opinion. But then again my friend list is composed mostly of university-educated rebels and progressives. Come to think of it, my stream is probably really a carefully curated minority. Because if you're prone to posting images superimposed with revoltingly fallacious text like this...

(because Pikachu needs more than fb shares you gullible second handers!)

... I've probably hidden you from my feed.

Maybe I'm out of sync because I follow websites like Offbeat Families that frequently feature LGBT issues and non-cis gendered families in a favorable light. Maybe I'm out of touch with what the "norm" is regarding gender issues in this country because despite our queer opinions and lifestyles, my partner and I are both straight and therefore above persecution. We assume that the barangay has become honky dory about sexuality just because we never find opportunities to talk about it within our immediate community.

Week 33: Dragon Baby Rising

Like you all said he would, baby's finally found my ribs. With his foot.

He's only ventured this far into my pain threshold once though. I'm probably just so bored that every little new thing he does excites me to the point of gushing over it online.

If it wasn't for this blog, this whole update would have just been one facebook status message: HOMAYGAD HE KICKED MY RIBS!! SO PROUD!!!11one

When he does this more frequently (in how many more days/weeks? Gulp), I expect it'll grow old quick and I'll be back to boredom. Boredom plus occasional rib jabs. That'll be new.

Speaking of boredom, I used to alternate between playing Civ 3 and Skyrim for most of the second trimester. After a faulty install, Civ 3 stopped loading. As for Skyrim, I shamefully admit that I can’t play it without Tito Raushan finishing instances for me anymore. The graphics and sound track freaks me out now. I’ll still remember the words of power during labor Tito Jian, just so it can still be said that this kid is dragonborn.

(This kind of dragonborn works too. Wata!)

I wonder if this sudden squeamishness over every little thing (except kung fu master babies) is going to evolve into the kind of helicopter parent behavior that people roll their eyes at:

Me: Nak, that movie is too dark. Throw it out.
Kid: But ma, you and daddy shot this.
Me: Oh.

(Note to partner: Must make something kid friendly. Also, I miss you and cranapple juice. I don't know what I miss about Cebu the most >:P)

In case of inexplicable irrational feels, I can thankfully blame it on the hormones. So I'm doing that. If this doesn't pass after kid is out, I'll look to the media to blame. Yay for victim mentality.

Now, with nothing left to do while waiting, I got maternal lola to teach me how to crochet.

Pregnancy fears and pet peeves (Warning, rant post)

If your sweet kolehiyala cousin suggests you go on a movie marathon, do not fall for her pretty-pleases and her with-sugar-on-top's. Not unless you want to be subjected to a pastiche of nazi-experiment-zombie/jewish demon fetus fests. (Pregnancy brain just kicked in, and I momentarily disconnected "fetus" with its actual meaning. If you want to know the feeling, try repeating the word over and over til it stops making sense.)

Also, when your jet-lagged partner suggests you watch this franchise sci fi feature with a married female lead, do NOT agree. Not unless you want to see a 45-minute (it felt that long) self c-section conducted by said female lead while removing her Lovecraftian progeny.

Guess what those two movies were. I've spoiled you enough with clues.

All I'm saying is that it does not help the pregnant woman's imagination (and vivid dream life) to expose oneself to negative images of birthing. Unfortunately, they're everywhere.

Take for example this photo:

Please.

The VCO experiment PART 2

In my previous post, I (with some help, hehe) embarked on the most noble quest of creating my own all-in-one super baby product. You may access steps 1 - 5 here.

What I didn't mention was that I set aside a smaller container with milk from the same batch. After the 40 hours I mentioned in the last post, I put the smaller container in the refrigerator and left the bigger batch sitting in maternal lola's china cabinet in case the oil decided to settle some more.

This morning, when I went to check on the control batch - the top curd was hard as soap. I removed the stuff and set it aside, wondering if it could still be useful in some way. Meanwhile, the bottom was pure oil.

I put some on my skin, worried that maybe it looked too watery. But it was glorious. It's a light oil, lighter than what you'd get from the heat-based process (which I learned to do in high school), and it smelled like vanilla. I was expecting this part to be an exaggeration on most websites but it's true! It does not smell one bit like someone's grandmother the way refined coconut oil does. :D

One of the things coconut milk is great for is lice removal. In the provincial grade school where I spent half of elementary, it was more embarrassing to show up with your head smelling like lana (coconut oil) than if your head was covered with the tiny terrors. Disgusting, but true.

After the control batch turned out successful, I decided the bigger batch was probably done feeling left out of the action, so I put it in the refrigerator. I wondered if the extra time had caused the stuff to go bad, like maternal lola kept saying it would. My mother obviously has no faith in me. So boys and girls, this is the continuation of the cold compressed virgin coconut oil tutorial:

The VCO experiment PART 1

Does anyone remember those Surf ads that became popular a decade ago? I was in high school then, and remember how people (including myself) waited for advertisements of a local laundry soap brand instead of the prime time telenovelas of the same time slot. These commercials were about a young wife's inexpensive solutions to household problems. The advertisements petered out into actual drama though and I soon lost interest. The need to become a "wais na misis" or a clever homemaker never disappeared though.

Before we even got together, co-parent and I were part of this big dream to live on an off-grid, eco-friendly, fully sustainable paradise (with solar panel controlled radio stations and grey water fountains. kidding). The dream sort of came crashing down when the owner of the lot turned dirty old man on one of the females involved in the would-be commune. -_-;;

We decided the dream didn't have to end there though, in fact the coming of the kid could be an excuse to bring the dream to life in small manageable ways. Baby steps so to speak. The kind we burgis brats can deal with.

One of the things we realized we needed to get over was the idea of grocery stores.

At first it was hard to wrap one's head around. No more aisles and aisles of colorful products. No more people watching at the produce section. No more imported fruits.

But the more I read about the alternatives, the more I came to appreciate the granola way. No shampoo? Use vinegar. No bleach? Use vinegar. No detergent? Use vinegar. No souring agent? Use vinegar. No more decision fatigue!!!

What's even cooler is that you can make it from coconuts. We have coconuts. We have tons of coconuts. We have so much of them that there are probably more coconut concussion related deaths here than car accidents.

Serial killer

It helps that maternal lola's big on coconuts. She and a bunch of former Cocofed scholars got together and created an NGO called Kabukonet that teaches people in the country how to make export-quality products out of the nuts. Let's give them a round of applause for their efforts in reducing coconut-related deaths empowering the rural poor. :)

Instead of making vinegar though, I decided to try my hand at making Virgin Coconut Oil (VCO) because it tickled my subversive bones to not pay for expensive baby products. You can use VCO to treat cradle cap, diaper rash and croup; you can use it instead of mineral (petroleum based) baby oils and lotions; you can even use it in baby food (like breastmilk, VCO is high in lauric acid). Edumicate yourself cretin!

Week 32: Instincts Shmintincts

I got another ultrasound today and saw le baby's face for the first time.

I'm convinced that he is the most gwapo creature in the whole wide world (Even though the ultrasound was 2d, reception wasn't clear, my head was facing away from the monitor and the child might as well be humpbacked and harelipped*)!!! ^____^

His tummy is smaller than the rest of him for some reason, and his cord's settled into a loose noose around his neck. The technician told me he isn't in any danger tho, so I guess this just means I need to give in to the food porn more often.

I heard home births weren't allowed in the Philippines anymore months ago. My doctor assured me I'd be able to as long as she assisted with the birthing. But with the due date coming closer and closer (8 weeks to go today!), I decided to investigate my rights. By investigating, I mean:

1. Constantly bugging maternal lola (admin of the local hospital) for information from the DOH representative about the homebirth ban;
2. Googling the keywords "philippine homebirth ban";
3. Asking people on facebook about it.

My investigation proved fruitless, and since I was all set anyway, I didn't bother any further. It sounded too silly to be taken seriously anyway. I mean what are they going to do, sue Nora Aunor**?

Mommy friend Rei told me the homebirth issue was on TV tonight. I don't watch TV tho, so I googled again and found this philstar article about an unnamed NGO opposing the DOH policy posted just tonight (Ah, so it's a DOH policy. Thank you philstar for clearing that up!)

I agree with this group, on all counts.