Going 800

When I started blogging, I didn’t really know what to expect.  In fact, I didn’t know whether I should keep my real identity to myself  (and to the ones closest to me who know that I blog)… or if I should use my name and mention names of  family members, friends — and enemies — that I blog about.  I chose the former for privacy issues.  But the stories and events were all real.  The feelings and thoughts I shared were genuine and they were mine. 

As much as I love writing, I still feel shy about my work  that I have to read and edit my blogs a hundred times before I post them.  If the computer can talk, it will probably scream, “Go ahead and post it. NOW!!!” after the tenth time I have gone over the blog.  Sometimes I am just OC… there’s this compelling need to spell and grammar check over and over again.  Sometimes I think my topic is just too trivial that my readers might now like it.  Sometimes, in the middle of a post, my brains just suddenly stop functioning and I will lose my train of thought… or I will forget the point I am trying to arrive at.  And I will end up asking myself if the blog was worth posting… Which will be followed by the question — do my readers actually care what I blog about? 

Talk about being a reluctant blogger.  I seem to have too many issues.

When I checked this morning, I found out that I had about 796 hits already.  Wow.  I can still remember the time when I was so excited having 150 hits… and then when I reached 500, I was in 7th heaven.   Although i think half of the hits belonged to (or should I say came from?) my person/bestfriend/cousin… and one fourth of it from a close friend of mine (who only remembers to read my blogs whenever reminded)… and yeah, one-eighth were probably mine… well, I still am happy that I have readers from various parts of the globe comprising the remaining one-eighth of the hits.  To be more accurate, that’s about a hundred readers-cum-new-friends from all over the world (insert the song “It’s A Small World ” here…).

Right before writing this entry, I checked my stats and found out that I now have 799 hits.  One reader short of being 800.  I am deliriously happy.  Maybe my source of happiness is a bit shallow. But just the same, I am glad that somehow I get to touch someone’s life with my writing.  And that is something I am not embarrassed about.

So whether you read my blogs because you think I am funny… or because you think I make sense… or you expect to find some sort of wisdom in my musings… or you find my (mis)adventures hilarious or pathetic… or maybe you got directed to my site by accident — and you can’t help but keep coming back (yay!)… Or maybe you are the cousin or the friend that I shamelessly advertised my blog to… For whatever reason that you stopped by and became my 577th or 701st hit… I just want to say thank you.  Thank you for giving me more reasons to write. 

Like what someone had told me not so long ago (i think it was just last week, actually)… what good is a written work when there is no one to read it?  So very, very true. 

inspire  This is for you… because you stayed awhile.


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photo credit: weheartit.com


Joys of teaching little kids

I used to teach little kids.  I operated my own preschool center, but I didn’t have that many students because I preferred teaching one-on-one.  I would devote two hours to each student… two hours of singing nursery rhymes, coloring activity books,  storytelling, writing ABCs, and at times, watching Barney or Sesame Street videos.  Sometimes, two hours of playtime.

There were mornings when a student and I would stay outside to play catch or hopscotch (for exercise)… or we will count the petals of flowers and talk about different colors.  We will stay outside as we talk about the sun and the clouds and the trees and the birds.  Then as we go back inside, we talk some more.

Dealing with little children can be tiring, but it can also be really fun.  There are so many things that they want to know… so many things that we can teach them.  Exploring the world with them can be a very enriching experience.  A lot of times, I learn new things, myself.  My kids keep me alert all the time.  They make me want to discover new things so I can teach them something.  My worst fear was being posed a question and not being able to come up with a reply — and my answer should always be correct because I wouldn’t want them to learn wrong things from me.  I had to be creative.  I had to be knowledgeable.  I had to keep them excited.

Kids keep you on your toes.  You have you be fast, you have to be alert.  They also test your patience, too.  Their neverending “why” questions can irritate someone who is not patient enough. Fortunately, I think I am one of those who can still answer a child’s 100th why question with a smile on my face and an even voice.   

Yes, there were difficult days.  Days when a student just won’t cooperate and would choose to cry about 3/4 of the whole period.  There were days when a child would rather run around the whole place (and expect me to run after her).  There was a time when I had to carry a three year old for more than an hour because she was afraid of the thunderstorm.  It wouldn’t have been that bad if she were not that heavy, but she was.  I remember my arm and back aching the whole day afterwards.

But more than just the difficult times, the ones I remember most when I look back at my teaching years are the big hugs and the wet, sloppy kisses that my two and three year olds used to give me.  That and the sound of their giggles and laughter.   Oh, and the way they call my name in their sing-song voices.  These are things that will warm my heart forever. 

I believe the best part of my teaching experience was the fact that I was helping shape the minds and the characters of my little students.  Kids look up to adults and who else is expected to teach them what is right or wrong  but us?  More than just the abcs and the 123s, teachers teach about values, about love, sharing, compassion, joy.   And we teach best by example.  By showing them love and patience and making them laugh and enjoying the laughter with them. 

And when you know that you played a part in raising a child, teaching him or her to be a good, decent and loving individual, that is fulfillment enough.  When you know that a child grew up to be happy and secure because you gave the attention that he or she needed, then you can say that you did your part.  And you did it well.

springtime come alive

i love flowers. 

i love the beauty… the freshness… the warm, fuzzy feeling that I get when i see such lovely flowers.

flowers never fail to inspire me… give me hope… cheer me up.

Daily picdump (140 pics) » Izismile.com - In fun we trust! Pictures, picdumps, videos, games, celebs, viral content

when you see such splendour, how can you not feel alive?

how can you not love life?


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photo credit: weheartit.com

A Different Perspective

Do you remember this YM emoticon which is supposed to be waving?  I think it is actually called “wave.”

For the longest time, I always thought that it was supposed to mean “wave goodbye.”  Most of the people I chat with use it when we’re about to end our chat session.  It is normally preceded by “ttyl” or “bfn” or just plain “bye.” 

The other morning, a friend’s ym window popped up while I was online.  The first thing I saw was this waving fellow.  My first reply was, “We haven’t even talked yet and you’re already saying goodbye?”  But the friend replied, “No, I’m saying hello.”

It’s funny how people really have different ways of viewing things.  The way we perceive things is greatly influenced by our experiences, as well as what we are accustomed to. 

Perhaps this is also why we tend to misunderstand some people sometimes.  We simply don’t see things the way they do, and vice versa.  It is a matter of perspective.  It doesn’t mean that we are always right and they are always wrong, though sometimes we would want to believe that we are the ones who are right.  That is called pride. 

People may regard the same thing or situation in a way different from yours.  You may not have to agree with it, nor do you accept it, but it doesn’t mean you cannot at least try to understand.  That is called respect. 


“Hello… goodbye”  🙂


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photo credit: weheartit.com

10 books…

I love reading.  I am a fan of Sidney Sheldon, James Patterson, Sophie Kinsella and Emily Giffin.  I have shelves and shelves of different types of books.  A cousin of mine once said that my bookshelf is like a “chick lit” section of a bookstore.  I had to point out, though, that I also  have a copy of the Art of War, Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet, and several Mario Puzo books. Thus, I am not all cheesy.   

Next to writing, reading is another form of escape.  When I want to relax and not think of anything, I get lost in a good book.  When I am engrossed in a book, time somehow stops — or I basically just ignore everything that tries to call my attention. 

This morning I realized that there were five books on the floor beside my bed.  I have this habit of leaving my “current” book near my bed so that I can go back to it whenever I get the chance.  Sometimes I reread the books that I just finished… or I look back at some parts. 

For the fun of it, here is a list of the last ten books that I have read, along with some thoughts and reactions.

10 Books that Kept me Awake These Past Couple of Months (#1 being the most recent)

10.  The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffeneger.  I didn’t watch the movie because I wanted to read the book.  Interesting.  Made my imagination work overtime.  Pretty long, pretty sad. 

9.  Who’s That Girl by Alexandra Potter.  First of the four books by the same author that I have bought and read.  The main character was posed the question, “If you were to meet and get to talk to the young you, what will you say?  What advice will you give?”  It made me think. Big time.  Made me realize that there are quite a number of things I would want to teach my young self… (Which most likely I will blog about soon…)

8.  Be Careful What You Wish For by Alexandra Potter.  Really funny.  Made me think that maybe fulfilled wishes don’t always come out the way we expect them to. 

7. Do You Come Here Often? by Alexandra Potter

6.  Sam’s Letter to Jennifer by James Patterson.  Love story.  Full of love and hope.  Can’t help but wonder how James Patterson can come up with something as cheesy as this and at the same time write about murders and other thrillers.  Talk about being versatile. 

5.  Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan.  Superson made me read it!  He has the whole Percy Jackson series.  Since he knows that I am quite knowledgeable about Greek mythology, he persuaded me to read this one so we can talk about it afterwards.  Quite interesting.  I enjoyed it, really.

4. Heart of the Matter by Emily GiffinI have read and liked other Emily Giffin books (Something Borrowed, Something Blue, Love the One You’re With), but this one I found quite depressing.   

3. Sea of Monsters by Rick Riordan.  After the first book, my son said I might as well read the whole series.  I haven’t finished the second chapter of this one, though…

2. You’re the One I Don’t Want by Alexandra Potter.  Something light after Heart of the Matter and not juvenile like the Sea of Monsters. 

1.  One Day by David Nicholls.  About two people and that one day they spent together right after college graduation.  It’s about a friendship spanning two decades — the hits and misses, the fights, the joys, the missed opportunities.  Could very well be your story, or mine. 

So there.  The ten books that kept me busy and kept me up ’til late these past couple of months.  Now am off to get the next one…

Blogging Blues

It can get frustrating sometimes. 

I blog about my thoughts, my experiences, my feelings about matters, how i view the world… Sometimes i go on and on and i feel good about myself after finishing a piece.  I feel good about having to express myself.  I think about the readers whose lives I will touch or whose feelings I will move with my insights.  I think about the ones I will entertain with my sometimes shallow humor.  I think about the people who will smile after reading about an escapade.  And I feel happy… satisfied… proud, even.

Then after half a day has passed, I will check my stats… only to find out that there’s just one reader –who probably just happened to find my site by chance and decided to stay on it and read…

I will try to check again come night time… and then I will see that the lone reader is still very much alone.

The following day before I post another blog, I will check my stats once more to see if there was any movement while I was sleeping… hoping that I have loyal followers from another time zone.  Sometimes i get two or three more. On good days, I will probably have 5.

Yes, it can get frustrating somewhat.

Sometimes I wonder if I am really a good writer… because if I were interesting enough, then maybe I will have more followers.  Right now I think the only people who constantly follow my blogs are my cousin/person, my close friend (when not busy and when reminded)… and oh yeah, Me. 

So, so sad.

But then when I think about it, I remember the reason why I started all these…

I started blogging for self-expression.  I started blogging because I loved writing and I express myself better with written words.  Make me speak in front of people and I will probably spend thirty minutes vomiting before every speech.  If you want to know my thoughts, make me sit down and write.  It’s much easier for me that way. Besides, there’s always delete.  I can edit out the words that don’t fit.

I blog because I get to think about things whenever I write about them.  I get to ask myself questions, and most of the time I find the answers, as well.  Of course I would love to be able to share my ideas and thoughts and misadventures with someone.  I would love to inspire people.  Putting a smile on a reader’s face is a nice outcome.  But then given that I don’t have much followers yet, well, I blog more for myself. 

Sometimes my topic don’t make much sense.  Well, a lot of the things in this world don’t make much sense.  But they make life more interesting in a way. 

I blog because writing is a passion.  I am a writer… and writers write. 

I do believe that if I keep blogging, they — my readers– will come.  And so I keep the faith.

Le Penne


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photo credit: weheartit.com

Little hands touching the heart

I was fixing my files earlier when i came across a bunch of papers with doodles and sketches… and then I saw one of the first love notes that my boy gave me when he was still very little.  My heart can’t help but skip a bit. 

picture perfect

I can’t help but ask, where has time gone?    It seems not too long ago when I was just teaching my son how to write and draw… I used to sing him all the nursery songs i knew and i used to recite the poems i wanted him to learn.  Our nightly rituals included me reading him a book and the two of us singing songs before going to sleep.  I used to hold his little hands a lot and he used to give me lots and lots of big hugs, shower my face with wet kisses. And he used to give me all these notes and doodles and sketches…

Now he’s eleven.  Not a baby anymore, yet not exactly a teenager, too.  He is at the stage where he asks for some space, yet still wants to see me watching over him from afar.  Unlike the times when he would be proud to be seen with mommy, now hugging mommy in public is just so uncool.  Sometimes he answers back like an adult and thinks he can get away with it… then comes back to ask for my help on something. 

When i watch him as he sleeps at night, I can’t help but marvel at how he has grown, right in front of my eyes, without me really realizing it.  To me he is still the baby that I carried and sang lullabies to.  He is still the little boy who gave me cute little love notes… the same one who would extend his little hand so we can walk hand in hand whenever we are out.

Despite me being a full-time, hands on mom, i still don’t think that the time I spend with him is ever enough.  I want to make the most of our moments together because I know that sooner or later, he will have his own life, and he won’t be needing much of me.  At some point, I would really have to let go so he can live his life, grow as his own person.

Time flies so fast.  Children grow up fast.  Sometimes we have to remind ourselves just that.  Our babies are not babies forever…though in our hearts they always will be.   We have to make the most of the time we share together… the time when we can teach them, nurture them, and love them.  

Lest we forget, the joy that our child brings to our lives simply can never be compared with anything else.  The overwhelming love that tugs our hearts is indescribable.  It’s priceless. 

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photo credit: Picture perfect drawing of me from my Superson (from 5-6 years back)