1. We're moving. The lot our apartment's on is being sold, and our friends are moving out of their awesome split level rental, so we're taking advantage. I was a little sad when we found out about the lot. All my hopes and dreams of prettifying this place have been dashed to the ground forever. The other house has lots of potential. It's stuck in the 70's, with the dark brown moulding and kitchen cabinets, the varnished wood panelling, the beige everything else... with
Speaking of which...
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| We'll be selling old clothes, baby stuff, Xbox games (and Xbox), furniture, baked goods, etc etc. |
If you want to check out the garage sale, email me at mutangpusa@gmail.com and I'll send you a map.
We move there in time for the boy's first birthday too (and my 25th, hurrah!). The partner and I've decided a beach party with grilling might be too much trouble for very very small children to enjoy. Transportation and safety are issues. So we'll have one at the house, which could also double as a house warming party. There's lots of roaming space, and it's in a safe neighborhood in case he runs out of the house and into moving vehicle space.
Apparently, there are two schools of thought in this part of the world regarding first birthday parties. One is that it's pointless because baby won't even remember. The other is that the party is for the adults, and it should be as grand as grand can get, kinda to celebrate that the baby survived the fragile first year.
2. Malaya's nanny went on maternity leave (she gave birth to a baby girl! woot!) right when he started roaming the "vast" apartment, deliberately getting into things he's not supposed to.
So much for productivity.
I have been able to squeeze in a couple of hours for working out. The first month, I worked out everyday.
Then it became every other day.
Then it became every now and then.
Now it's at every once a week.
At least I've returned to my pre-baby weight. Which still isn't really in shape.
And yes, I did manage to start baking. I managed to get tito Tom to watch Malaya the other evening while I baked. It took the whole night, and the cake was out the oven by 11. The cake didn't even last the night. Thank you Daddy creature and tito Tom.
It's been difficult to do very much. I just woke up one morning and the boy had lengthened, lost a bit of the chubs, and is EVERYWHERE (Oh and did I mention he's been to 3 art shows in the past month?). He's also started babbling, with more and more clarity each day. i suspect that he knows what the words mean, they just mysteriously come out of his mouth wrong. What's worse is when people repeat his mistakes to him, thereby confusing him as to the actual pronunciation.
Example:
Somewhere along the 10-month mark, he also started standing up from a sitting position, and then bouncing on his feet. It's like he's pantomiming how old cartoon characters look pre-run.
We're midway from babyhood to hurricane. Oh boy.
3. Last January, the boy's Lolo Ely, Lola Andring and Lola Lisa arrived from Texas and stayed for the whole month. While Malaya took to Lolo Ely and Lola Lisa pretty well, he seemed overwhelmed with Lola Andring.
Apparently, longevity runs in their family, because Lola Andring (technically Malaya's great grandma) celebrated her 93rd birthday here. I wish I had a camera on me when she sang him an old Cebuano nursery rhyme. So much for preserving culture.
4. He also received his first haircut from the Lola Nanay sometime last month.
While that's not really an excuse, I just thought it's worth noting that when we DO have downtime, we do other things. Like experiment with the boy's hair. It's no mohawk, not a frohawk, and neither is it the shaved sides and asymmetrical bangs ala Alonso Mateo. Sorry to disappoint. She gave him the classic bowl cut. The same cut me and my brother got growing up.
The occasion was very mundane. She suggested it, I said "Why not?" Daddy was completely oblivious. I blinked and she had sharpened a pair of shears and went snip snip on the baby. The boy was not happy. She took it slow, waiting til he turned his head from her, and then would snip a couple more. He was mostly upset over the itchy hairs that would fall on his skin. In between, we'd look into the mirror and he'd smile at himself.
Whether he was amused over how ridiculous he looked, or he liked the bowl cut, I have no way of knowing.
While the partner and I've discussed how we're never going to do anything invasive, I've noticed how easy it is to break that promise here and there because we can't bear to see the discomfort. We cut his hair so it wouldn't cover his eyes. We brush his teeth. We change his clothes. We put shoes on his feet. At best, we do it gently. It's harder to do so when there's a poopy diaper involved.
But, like every smart-ass, he hates being told what to do and uses every chance to steal the spoon when we feed him. I hope he never loses that spirit. I encourage the "I want to do it myself" attitude because while you can clean up messes, it isn't as easy to repair a bruised self confidence. Therapy is more expensive than laundry soap. It's an economic decision.
Fret not dear ninangs and ninongs, we've been compiling video clips of the boy's antics and will make you guys a year-ender video to commemorate.
We reviewed some of the clips and it's amazing how much he's changed. There were clips of him just staring, and us staring right back in total adoration at him breathing. The clips these days are of him zooming around with one or the other exhausted parent in his tail. How'd this boy get so huge (and heavy) all of a sudden?
I will miss all these moments. Especially when he won't let me kiss his thighs in public anymore.
We have 40+ gigs so far. Good luck with the edit Chris.
P.S. Speaking of gigs, Daddy has one tomorrow night at the Chillage! If you like loud noises, you know where the party's at. Malaya will be tagging along. So will his noise-canceling headphones.
We move there in time for the boy's first birthday too (and my 25th, hurrah!). The partner and I've decided a beach party with grilling might be too much trouble for very very small children to enjoy. Transportation and safety are issues. So we'll have one at the house, which could also double as a house warming party. There's lots of roaming space, and it's in a safe neighborhood in case he runs out of the house and into moving vehicle space.
Apparently, there are two schools of thought in this part of the world regarding first birthday parties. One is that it's pointless because baby won't even remember. The other is that the party is for the adults, and it should be as grand as grand can get, kinda to celebrate that the baby survived the fragile first year.
 |
| Lam-ang tells it like it is. |
So much for productivity.
I have been able to squeeze in a couple of hours for working out. The first month, I worked out everyday.
Then it became every other day.
Then it became every now and then.
Now it's at every once a week.
At least I've returned to my pre-baby weight. Which still isn't really in shape.
And yes, I did manage to start baking. I managed to get tito Tom to watch Malaya the other evening while I baked. It took the whole night, and the cake was out the oven by 11. The cake didn't even last the night. Thank you Daddy creature and tito Tom.
It's been difficult to do very much. I just woke up one morning and the boy had lengthened, lost a bit of the chubs, and is EVERYWHERE (Oh and did I mention he's been to 3 art shows in the past month?). He's also started babbling, with more and more clarity each day. i suspect that he knows what the words mean, they just mysteriously come out of his mouth wrong. What's worse is when people repeat his mistakes to him, thereby confusing him as to the actual pronunciation.
Example:
Malaya: Ber (wanted to say bird)
Daddy: did you say "beer" nak? Oh so proud!
Malaya: Brrr
Mommy: beer! He said beer again! bugoya oi!
Malaya: Dreb... brer... ber... berd... beer
Somewhere along the 10-month mark, he also started standing up from a sitting position, and then bouncing on his feet. It's like he's pantomiming how old cartoon characters look pre-run.
We're midway from babyhood to hurricane. Oh boy.
3. Last January, the boy's Lolo Ely, Lola Andring and Lola Lisa arrived from Texas and stayed for the whole month. While Malaya took to Lolo Ely and Lola Lisa pretty well, he seemed overwhelmed with Lola Andring.
Apparently, longevity runs in their family, because Lola Andring (technically Malaya's great grandma) celebrated her 93rd birthday here. I wish I had a camera on me when she sang him an old Cebuano nursery rhyme. So much for preserving culture.
4. He also received his first haircut from the Lola Nanay sometime last month.
While that's not really an excuse, I just thought it's worth noting that when we DO have downtime, we do other things. Like experiment with the boy's hair. It's no mohawk, not a frohawk, and neither is it the shaved sides and asymmetrical bangs ala Alonso Mateo. Sorry to disappoint. She gave him the classic bowl cut. The same cut me and my brother got growing up.
The occasion was very mundane. She suggested it, I said "Why not?" Daddy was completely oblivious. I blinked and she had sharpened a pair of shears and went snip snip on the baby. The boy was not happy. She took it slow, waiting til he turned his head from her, and then would snip a couple more. He was mostly upset over the itchy hairs that would fall on his skin. In between, we'd look into the mirror and he'd smile at himself.
Whether he was amused over how ridiculous he looked, or he liked the bowl cut, I have no way of knowing.
While the partner and I've discussed how we're never going to do anything invasive, I've noticed how easy it is to break that promise here and there because we can't bear to see the discomfort. We cut his hair so it wouldn't cover his eyes. We brush his teeth. We change his clothes. We put shoes on his feet. At best, we do it gently. It's harder to do so when there's a poopy diaper involved.
But, like every smart-ass, he hates being told what to do and uses every chance to steal the spoon when we feed him. I hope he never loses that spirit. I encourage the "I want to do it myself" attitude because while you can clean up messes, it isn't as easy to repair a bruised self confidence. Therapy is more expensive than laundry soap. It's an economic decision.
Fret not dear ninangs and ninongs, we've been compiling video clips of the boy's antics and will make you guys a year-ender video to commemorate.
We reviewed some of the clips and it's amazing how much he's changed. There were clips of him just staring, and us staring right back in total adoration at him breathing. The clips these days are of him zooming around with one or the other exhausted parent in his tail. How'd this boy get so huge (and heavy) all of a sudden?
 |
| photo by tita Banawe Corvera of Photo Diaries. Go ahead and google her! |
We have 40+ gigs so far. Good luck with the edit Chris.
P.S. Speaking of gigs, Daddy has one tomorrow night at the Chillage! If you like loud noises, you know where the party's at. Malaya will be tagging along. So will his noise-canceling headphones.
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