Dear Peanut

Dear Pre-Mom Kath,

Two things.
First, you were great.
Second, I want to punch you in the face.

Okay, now, let me explain.

First, I think you were great. Some even said, you rocked! Maybe you were not as “wild” as others would define “wild” but boy, you’ve always had a liberal mind. Let me explain before some of my motherfucker relatives make me the subject of their reunion talks again. This has nothing to do with my sex life.

You were wild in the sense that you believed in dating equality. You never waited for guys to ask you out. You never asked for dates to foot the bill. You never asked them to carry your bag for you or pick up something for you–to the point that you deliberately snubbed James Reid who bent down to pick up the towel you accidentally dropped at the gym. True story.

Unlike some people you know, you never waited on a man or used one to get what you want. You didn't marry for money like some people you know. You went after your own goals. You believed that women can make the first move—which led you to meet your husband on Friendster by sending him a smiley and telling him that he looked cute in his profile photo. Malandi ka din, and you came on strong. But that’s exactly what you were looking for—a man who is strong enough to love and live with an unconventional, stubborn, go-getter Virgo woman. And you found him.

You were great that even if you worked for some shady companies during your early 20s, you also had the courage to show people—in many ways—that they're wasting away in that shithole in Cubao where you used to boss around beauty queens. You saw things for what it was—a dead-end job made glamorous with backstage passes and VIP tickets to concerts people don’t come to see.

People heard you. And they hated you for speaking some truths. You were brave enough to walk away, cut the ties, burn the dilapidated bridge along with the expired otaps, and even take some people with you because you don’t want to see them die a long, corporate death. You were labeled as a rebel and many other colorful words, you were sure.

You did a lot of things. You pursued the things you said you would do. You project managed your own church wedding for god’s sake. And when you got to that MNC you became something else entirely—a 2.0 version of corporate self you never thought existed only to leave it all behind to follow your husband abroad because you don’t believe in a long distance relationship.

And just when you thought you can’t have a career in Malaysia (where a dependent pass prevented you from working there), you struck gold through freelancing and lived the expat life you created for yourself. You traveled, you helped your family back home in many ways you can, and you wrote and published those 3 books before you gave birth to a wonderful, beautiful baby boy.

But you were also full of drama.
You were judgmental. And mean.

Now, even if you were able to justify all those drama and attitude in the past, remember that you’ve always had a choice. But still, you chose to be mean. And you still chose to hurt many people.

You chose to blow things out of proportion, to shred your husband’s polo shirts into pieces because the stupid laundry girl in his Upper East Side (Taytay, guys) ruined your favorite red blouse and then she lied about it. You wanted her head on a silver platter because she wouldn’t admit to ruining your favorite clothing item. You washed your own clothes after that, just to make a point. You were such a brat. Like Kris Aquino.

You were very selective with your circles. And looking back, there was nothing really wrong with that. Only that you weren’t selective enough—a lot of snakes slipped through the cracks. You had a list of people you wanted to punch in the face but never really had the courage to cut ties before because you wanted to keep tabs. You wanted to make sure they were miserable. You had a mental hate list and you didn’t know how much it has affected your judgment and your life. That’s why I want to punch you—my pre-mom self, in the face.

But then the most wonderful thing happened.

You became pregnant and you nurtured a human being in the span of 9 months. As you gained weight to support your growing belly, you knew how important it was to let go of things that weighed you down.

You had some time to mull it over, to think things through, and little by little, you did let go of some things and some people but it was only when your firstborn was about 3 months old that you made a huge life decision—to delete people from your social media and your life.

While you can’t really delete people in real life, you made that conscious decision to let go of hate, of your revenge plans, of your mental people-I-want-to-punch-in-the-face list. You finally realized that you didn't need to join the goddamn chismis fest because of this...


Okay, it's not because you are the best, the photo above is a reminder that you now choose to run with people like yourself. You're like that cheetah in the photo, you refuse to compete because you know you're not in the right race in the first place.

You are now doing what you've always told you would--talk about ideas and not people. Build on ideas, not gossip. And it’s not only because you’ve had had enough. It is more because you don’t have the time to think about the shallow things now, like literally.

Because you have a wonderful little human being who brings so much joy (and exhaustion, haha) to your life now. You learned how to focus your energy (both positive and negative) to the right things now. And while you know that you’re still the subject of gossip for some people, you—for the first time in your life—finally don’t care.

As a mother, you also have the best relationship with your own mother now. Because you are now in the phase of your life where you understand where she was coming far during those years you kept fighting over things you couldn’t wrap your stupid head around. Now, you also see more clearly the many sacrifices, individual and joint dreams your parents have for the business they started. You also see more clearly how hardworking and brilliant your brother and sister are and how truly kind, giving, supporting, and loving your husband is. You now laugh at how your husband needs pointers on the romance part (because you still project manage your date nights) but how he can also surprise the daylights out of you like that time he took you out for tea and scones at a swanky hotel in Makati.

To my dear mommy self, as you celebrated your first mother’s day, I just want to say that I love you more now and even if your head is still spinning because of all these MyPuhunan ideas, kudos to saying “No, thank you” to two big opportunities that dropped on your lap almost right after you made a decision to focus on the family business.

I know it wasn’t easy because it was for a team you’ve always considered the Dream Team but you also know what the priorities are now. Let me give you a pat on the back for the half-year milestone, for the new speed in which you thrive, and for expanding your circles far and wide, and building an even stronger network that will soon build your net worth.

To my new mommy self, I am excited about all the things you will soon do. I love you better than I did my pre-mom self.

xoxo,

Your LoloDaddy and LolaMommy sponsored your cakes and we had a surprise candle-blowing activity for you and your UncleD.



Okay, so parang hindi ka masaya na may kasabay ka sa event mo, hahaha. Or were you just copying your UncleD's facial expression?

Happy 26th birthday, UncleD!

At dahil ang alam mo lang ay umiyak, kumain, tumae, at magpa-cute, kami na ng Daddy mo ang nag-blow ng candles sa cake mo.

Dear Peanut,

Earlier today, your NinangJap asked me for some pep talk about motherhood.

Okay, first, we’ll start calling her this because she said so herself. The word ‘Jap’ actually is an inside joke about the ‘Japayuki’ thing. It became a source of amusement for your Ninang and me because I used to tell her stories about some of my relatives—whom I’ve graciously removed from my life—who prefer that some truths about their ‘former lives’ in Japan stay hidden, like the Yamashita Treasure.

FYI, you NinangJap is not our blood relative so she’s no the Japayuki I’m referring to in the intro above. I was referring to my ungrateful (ingrate) tita and in-denial-pa-din cousin who worked as entertainers in Japan during the late 80s, 90s, and early 2000s.

Okay, back to the pep talk. The request came at the perfect time because, at the half-a-year mark, there are a lot of realizations and milestones. So, what advice/learnings do I want to share? I’ll try to post these in batches because, boy, ang dami.

REALIZATION #1: The perfect time to have children is when you are financially capable.

Okay, that’s harsh but here’s the truth: The best time to have children is when you are financially ready.

I grew up hearing that the perfect time to have children is between the ages 24 and 27—not too young, and not too, err, ripe. So you can just imagine the panic of many women my age who were still single and without children when we celebrated our 27th birthday. I didn’t panic, well, not so much. If I did panic, that was probably stemming from the financial aspect of things—and not because I’m running out of fresh eggs.

Before you even decide to marry and/or have children, you really have to get your ducks in a row. But that doesn’t always mean you have to get your life in perfect order because you can’t. Order is an illusion, I think. There’s beauty in chaos. I mean, today, at 32 years old, I’m still whipping my ducks into a row—they like to venture out of formation but I make sure that each duck is nestling a golden egg. It means even though my ducks are all over the place, I make sure they make money for me, even passively.

Because the reality is that you can read all the books, attend all the classes, talk to all the pros, Lamaze the shit out of everything pregnancy-related, and worship all the successful exclusively breastfeeding moms out there and still, what you really need the moment you conceive is money. As cold as it may sound, you really need cold, hard cash.

If you don’t have money, how can you go to your prenatal checkups? How can you pay for all those expensive tests they ask you to make during the vital first trimester? How do you pay for all the vitamins you need, the books you want to read, the products you’ve been duped to buy, and prenatal exercises classes that you want to try?

During our first trimester, your Daddy’s HMO is quite limited so we chose to find a private hospital near our condo and a private practitioner. For every visit, we spent somewhere between MYR100 and MYR120 (PHP1,200.00 to PHP1,500.00), especially if there were tests that we needed to accomplish. We also inquired how much it would cost to bring help from the Philippines to Malaysia.

If we want to go through the formalities and shit, we need Php100,000.00 upfront and that doesn’t include the yaya’s salary, lounging, and food. Muntik na akong matae when we heard how much it cost to get help. So we computed how much it would cost to bring your grandparents to Malaysia and stay there for up to 4 months (by batch) and the costs are still too high, not to mention the production-related expenses that would happen if our printing operations would be put on hold because your LolaMommy would be out of duty.

That’s why we also decided to move back. Living abroad has its perks but the biggest support we need is here at home. You need to be with your own people. You need to be surrounded by people who love you—people that we also love.
Now, here comes the hospital expenses.

When your Daddy accepted a new job here in PH, we were so excited to know that his HMO is a good one that provides for his dependents. We figured, good, we’ll be able to use it for the delivery. But the timing wasn’t right. We learned that I would only be able to use my HMO card when he is regularized at work—four months after we moved back but I would have given birth by then.

It’s a blessing that your LolaMommy and Uncle soon-to-be Doc are connected with the medical community so we were able to find good doctors who are also affiliated with the same HMO.

When Dra.JMF found out that I couldn’t use my HMO card yet, she was so gracious to give us a discount for the checkups, which really helped because during the 3rd trimester, we were asked to undergo tests almost every month and then every two weeks, and finally every week.

And surprise, we had to have an emergency CS operation because my cervix won’t soften (basta ayaw bumaka kasi masyado tight daw yung muscles ko kaka-workout). You already pooped inside at you were probably eating your own shit already. I could only imagine now how your father looked when Dra.JMF explained it to him. The blood probably drained from his face, just kidding, we prepared for it as soon as we knew the possible due date. We also had to get a private room instead of a ward and had to book you a fancy tanning room for one night a NICU to treat physiological jaundice. And of course, there’s the breastfeeding challenge and our decision to mix feed and eventually decide to give formula full time.

At the half-a-year mark, we already finished the majority of the preliminary vaccines for you. Even though we have a family friend who owns a vaccine distribution company, we choose to get vaccines from your official pediatrician out of convenience, and convenience ain’t cheap. Then here’s the routine expenses in the form of diapers and formula milk. Every 14 days, we buy your formula milk and you drink milk like a construction worker eats rice. Ang laki na ng pata mo.

So you see, unless one is ready financially, delay pregnancy until you get your bank accounts ready. Now, if any of you tambays tell me that money is not a big deal and #justlove, sige, pakain mo love mo sa anak mo. Even if we know that our families are here, your father and I strive to always be independent. But we allow our family and friends, especially your grandparents, to shower you with love (and gifts, haha).

It’s shabby to talk about money, but when you’re planning a family, you have to talk to your partner about it. That’s part of adulting and soon-to-be parenting. Having a baby is expensive but every day, your Daddy and I see where our money goes---sa thigh part mo. You are our most precious investment.

There you have it, my very long two-cents. It doesn’t matter if you want to have a baby in your early or late whatever. As long as you’re financially capable, go for it. Otherwise, sabi nga sa commercial, “Wag ka matakot magtiwala sa Trust.”

XOXO,

Here we are, a few weeks before the actual baptism day. We finished submitting all the requirements, but that's for another blog entry.

Anak ka ng Lourdes. When we first brought you there, you and your father walked ahead and I heard him asking, "Gusto mo dito mag-school?" I didn't hear what he said afterward but it was probably, "Mahal na tuition dito, home school tayo." Hahaha.

Yes, nagtipid kami sa aspeto na yan. The newborn socks didn't quite fit anymore. You kept tugging at it and it kept flying off your feet so we had to pick it up from the floor a couple of times.

Here we are with some of your mighty godparents!

Finally, here we are. The one above is the token "baptism" photo. In our generation, ito yung pini-print ng A4 size tapos pinapa-frame tapos naka-display sa taas ng piano or sa antique table sa sala. Ito din yung minsan hinihingi sa school for Christian Living projects. Ididikit mo sya sa bond paper tapos lalagyan mo ng caption: MY BAPTISM.

The key things you need to remember about this photo are:

1. Ang pogi ng daddy mo pero basang-basa kili-kili nyan sa photo kasi ang init-init sa church tapos walang aircon.

2. Naka bright red, lace dress, at suede boots ang nanay mo nung binyag mo. Sya ang pinakamakulay na nanay dun sa church. Kitang kita from far, far away.

3. Puro libag yung leeg mo sa photo na yan. Sa lahat ng mga bininyagan that day, ikaw ang pinaka maitim, pinaka mataba, pinaka maingay, at pinaka sociable sa lahat! And we say that with love.

Here we are with the Eustaquios.

With your proud LolaMommy and LoloDaddy.

With the "big" Eustaquio kids.

We had personalized placemats for your event. We gave our guests the option to choose their meal between TEAM JET, TEAM KATH, and TEAM PEANUT.

We brought the family to the second taste test to get their inputs (when we celebrated your 5-month birthday there). We then designed the collaterals and two days before our event, I carried 3 boxes filled with giveaways, placemats, order forms, and more so we don't have to haul them on the day of our event. The MQ team was very efficient in handling our requests.

MQ calls it 2x2. This is what served for "TEAM JET" during #JohnnyBeGood, our party title.

TEAM JET: Spare ribs, chicken, rice, and corn fritters.

TEAM PEANUT: Pulled pork burger with chips.

TEAM KATH: Brisket rice bowl with fried egg and green beans.

Here we are with the mighty team of Mighty Quinn's PH.

Dear Peanut,

I started this Mother's Day tradition back in 2015. I told myself that wherever I am on this special day, I would post the photo below:



This year, I also started a new Mother's Day tradition for your LolaMommy. I would post the same photo with an accompanying photo. We tried to recreate it but clearly, I'm not as photogenic as your LolaMommy and you're not as well-behaved as I was when the photos were taken. Well, at least the smiley emojis were identical.

Next year, we'll try again and I'll rock the same daster and maybe a few more props, like the electric fan to the side, a houseplant, and an abstract painting.  Actually, the daster is our gift to your LolaMommy back in 2015. We bought it at a stall in Central Market in Malaysia. She loaned it to me when I was pregnant with you. I haven't returned it yet, haha.


I wanted to give your LolaMommy the best Hallmark card, ever. But I couldn't find one that fits. So I turned your first artwork (below) into a card and wrote a letter to mom. I told her that I understand it all now—the sacrifices, the fears, the joys, the happiness, the tears, the pride...

Your LolaMommy and I have had a lot of disagreements and fights in the past. I remember she once told me, while we were preparing to go sight-seeing in Singapore, "Sabi nga nila, you will only realize that your mother is right when you already have a daughter who thinks you're wrong."

Well, I'm glad that I realized it earlier. I know that I have a lot more to face and experience as a mother but I pray that your LolaMommy and LoloDaddy will always be there to support and guide me and your Daddy.

Being new parents is terrifying. OMG, before I thought babies are born with great skin, like those in diaper commercials. Putragis, babies go through a phase of varying skin conditions like milia and diaper rash and I swear each new bump on the skin or red spot is enough to make parents frantically call their pedia or rush to the ER and basically go nuts.

Your first artwork as a gift to LolaMommy. :)

I'm sure your LolaMommy and I will still have some disagreements in the future but we are in the phase of our lives when we understand each other a lot better. I finally know where she's coming from and she finally (I think) accepts that I can never be the "nice" daughter. That's your NinangAnnE, she's the mabait daughter and I'm the maldita one. But I told them that I will always be their fiercest protector from gossip-hungry, good-for-nothing, puro crab mentality, nilalamon ng inggit, at plastik na relatives.

I used to keep a burn book with the names of relatives I want to punch in the face. But you know what, it's easier to just erase them in our lives. I literally deleted them on Facebook because at this point in my life, if I don't like you, bye.

Being a mother does that a person, I guess. I need to make more space and more time to cultivate the relationships I want to build. Also, I want to focus on the things and people who matter. O diba, jinustify ko pa ang pagiging maldita ko, joke lang. Maybe one day, you'll also understand me.

That's it for now. Ang dami ko na naman sinabi.
I love you! :D

xoxo,