Lua Hagedorn

     Today was a monday. Meaning? Checks coming in, bills over the weekend had to be paid etc. etc. weekend was over, there was a lot of work to be done. Period.

     Started the day normally.  Which means? As usual,  say morning prayers, prepare breakfast,  take a bath and then go to McCoy’s. Where…… I was met by my staff Margie bearing an inch thick of bills to be paid.  Oh Brother!

    After doing the morning routine in McCoy’s,  I went straight to the bank to deposit money in my current account. I prefer issuing checks to pay the bills.  Less hassle, more convenient. I don’t like carrying cash with me.  Makes me nervous.

      I stayed too long in the bank because there were too many depositors and only one teller attending to us. As revenge though,  I kept using my celphone while inside the bank. Of course,  I had to constantly watch the guard, lest he catch me doing so. That would be embarrassing.

      After adding about 3 shades to my already dark varicose veins,  I finally was able to wrestle my way out of that wretched bank.  It was only on my way out that I remembered they had 2 other branches servicing the population of puerto.  Why did I choose the oldest and most crowded branch of that bank, I wonder.

     On my way home,  I passed by "Ignacio’s" to buy Lara’s  favorite "giniling". I wasted so much time in the bank now there was none left for me to cook lunch for my kids. Went home to 3 excited kids.  They couldn’t wait to divide the quail eggs amongst them.

     Afternoon came,  and Neva and I had our monthly date with our hairdresser.  We were having the "hair spa". It was a pleasant afternoon. We were able to relax and left the salon feeling beautiful. Dropped Neva off to Dang Maria’s and sped home to pick up Lya.  It was a monday today,  and mondays mean the first day of the week when Lya has her swimming lessons. She’s losing weight and gaining confidence. It is very important that she swims regularly.

    The day went by normally or so I thought.  I felt it go by normally until I got my sister’s text.  I was starting to do my daily exercise when Neva texted that I should immediately go to Coop Hospital because my Lola was having a hard time breathing. Now this is not normal.  It’s way beyond abnormal actually. Subnormal?

     My Lola is turning 96 two days from now. A week ago she was admitted to the hospital because of pneumonia. Everyone said "oh, Lola has always been a fighter. She’ll come out of this as usual" Or do we really think so? Personally,  I have this constant fear of Lola leaving us sooner than we would like to admit. The last time I visited her,  I already noticed that she had "Halak" and I mentioned it to her caregiver.

     My Lola cared for me when I was a child.  I would have loved to return the favor if given the chance. I always meant to visit her more often, to stay longer with her when I do visit, to bring her on a moderately long ride. So she would feel the wind on her face and blow on her hair. But having 3 kids and a business is no joke.  And I always seem to lack time. Specially on schooldays.  Now it’s vacation time,  but it’s election time.  The intent is always there but I never do get round to doing what I swore to myself I will do.

      As I laid on her lap and pray.  I first prayed that she survive through this so I can still do what I intended to do all these years. But isnt’t that a selfish prayer? Only intended to make me feel better from all the years of my neglecting her? It was then that I felt tears rush into my eyes and I had to choke back tears because my titas were in the room with me.  And I didn’t want them to think that I’m being so melodramatic.    I loved my Lola and would love to have more time with her.  My prayer of course was first and foremost for God to heal her. But to tell you the truth,  seeing her like that lying in her hospital bed I couldn’t help but wonder if it would be wiser to pray, no beg for God to finally embrace my Lola Maria. I know my Lolo Tomas eagerly awaits her. Along with Tay Dave, Tay Tommy and my Tatay.

This week will be a difficult one.  I do hope and pray that it will turn out best to everyones satisfaction.

     It’s a quarter to 12 and I haven’t prepared lunch yet. My day routine was normal. Said my morning prayers, prepared breakfast for my family, took a bath then went to McCoy’s.

    Morning at McCoy’s was normal.  It’s been like this for a long time. The fact that my staff has been with me for a long time is a big factor.  They already knew what I expect from them and work very hard to maintain the quality that our costumers are used to.

    Last week I’ve decided to get a solar panel. This is another plus for McCoy’s.  Aside from lowering our electric bill,  it will alleviate our life in the kitchen.  Life in the kitchen is hell when it’s brownout.   I wanted to get a generator but opted to get the solar panel instead because they were having a promo.  Saved a little money because of it.  In 6 months,  I would have been fully paid in the panel I got.  Then I would get a new one which would power the electric fans.   

     Next goal is for McCoy’s is to have a watertank.  I really need one.  Especially with the summer coming.  The promise of the lack of water is very possible.  And I can’t  exist without water.

     My ultimate goal is a generator set.  That would be the day. McCoy’s with no brownouts.

      There are a lot of things I want to add to McCoy’s. More space, more seats, really nice fliers, hundreds of tarps. It’s my baby. It’s what I can say I accomplished. I can practically say I built it with my own hands. Improving it will be a constant effort. A lifetime love affair.

     Now the Shell people are installing the solar panel.  Started doing so at 8 this morning. I’m just waiting for Margie’s text informing me that they are done. Then I would come back to McCoy’s and check their work.

    As of now I am multi-tasking.  I am cooking our lunch while posting in my blog. We’re having ginisang sitaw and broiled pork chop. Yumyum! Ta-ta! Have to feed my brood.

     Three days ago,  a long scheduled coffee break finally became a reality. After 2 decades, we, three women are sitting in one table drinking coffee. The last time I remember being with these two friends was us browsing over books in our long closed book rental service" Bookshelves".

     Cactching up wasn’t that hard since we’ve always kept in touch over the years. Puerto Princesa is after all,  a very small town. But sitting down and having coffee?  A first since we graduated from Pilot elementary School.

     I’ve read Tengs blog. I do watch for your blogs Teng. And now I will wait for your blogs Liz.  You both write beautifully. As I sipped my cup of coffee( I finished 4 cups), I couldn’t help but notice that we have grown up into three different individuals so different from the three giggling girls that we were before. No, let me correct that. I giggled a lot.  These two were serious.  S.E.R.I.O.U.S! They were the bright ones in class. And the only connection we had were our love for books. What were 2 honor students doing with someone who doesn’t even do homework. These two knew what they were doing. I, on the other hand played "maro" with the boys and hated being school. But I always considered Teng and Liz my friends. We had some good memories. The visits we made to each others houses I still remember till now.

       We basically started reading the same time.  Grade III?We started with Nancy Drews books. Graduated to Mills n Boons,  Barbra Cartland and Yep I’m guilty, I think I did introduce them to Harold Robins.  Yes, I guess I was responsible in corrupting their innocent minds as I was their informer on which "Harold Robin " books were the most rented. Of course I would read the book first and pinpoint which were the juiciest chapters.

      The afternoon started with just Liz and I, my mother joined us after a few minutes,  then Teng came later.  Dang Maria’s only had 4 women in discussion.  But judging on the noise we did, people would assume there was at least a battalion of women there. Gone were the self conscious giggles of elementary students.  These were laughter made by 3 grown up women who knows that they can stand on their own. You should have been there.  You would know the difference.

     As much as I would want to make a nice finish here,  I can’t I am about to step out and get my two beautiful kids who visited their one month old cousin Pocholo. Lya is here in the house enjoying the arrozcaldo I made for her. She requested it.

     What’s your earliest memory? At family getogethers, when Uncles and Aunts recall your earliest antics,  do you remember? I sure couldn’t remember my feeding my 1 day old sister Corinne candy or the time I told an Uncle that his colds was falling into his food and he was practically eating it. It’s hard to remember events yes. But I do remember the people around me, and one of them is my Lola.

     My earliest memory I guess was climbing the guava trees of my lola.  My Lola’s guava fruits were the best. My Lola Maria watched and took care of them since they were buds. And we would look forward to the day when they would ripen and my Lola would hand us( Corinne then 2 years old and I was 5) equal parts of the days harvest. They were delicious.  And it was too much for me to resist my Lola’s command not to pick it myself. It was too dangerous she said and besides I do always seemed to pick them prematurely. I would walk around her guava trees everyday. Looking for fruits which I  percieve as ready for picking. Of course there would be times when there would be not enough fruits.  In a childs mind,  sharing is not that easy to accept. Then I would disobey the 11th commandment.  "Thou shalt not pick the guava fruits by thineself!!!!". I don’t know,  my Lola always caught me.  I swear she has eyes everywhere.  She was like God. She knew everything.  Even the most painful area where to pinch me as punishment.

     Anyway, I remember my Lola taking care of us. I would wake up and she would be there sitting in the kitchen waiting for us to pick our own eggs from her duck pen, standing over the "pinao*" always ready to cook our eggs " sunny side up" our favorite when we were kids. In the afternoon,  she would be cooking her banana que which she sells in the school canteen everyday. Of course she always sets aside the most sugary bananas for us her grandchildren. In the evening,  she would be cooking adobong mani which she leaves by the piano to cool before wrapping in individual plastics.  Of course we would take turns going and stealing her "paninda*".

     My Lola Maria is a hardworking woman.  And as a child I saw her perseverance and diligence.  She was always doing something. I remember seeing her with paperwork but I didn’t understand so much in those days.  I just knew and remember her always working. Always buzzing around the house doing something.  She reminded me of a bee. Always at work.  Even when sitting down she would be accomplishing something.

     Now, let’s shift to me. Unlike my Lola,  I’m not teacher.  Hell,  I didn’t even finish college. I always hated school, no,  loathed it. Unlike my Lola who’s always in school,  I wouldn’t go near a school.  Even attending the PTA meeting is torture for me. Alas!! The first Timbancaya who didn’t finish college was made official. Me. Good thing my last name was Padilla.

     A decade later, here I am.  Like any certified college flunker,  I am self employed. I own a 27 seater pizzeria where I myself cooked for the first 3 years. I hired and trained my staff all by myself and now after 5 years my business can exist without me in the kitchen.  I love my job.  I love what it earns for me.  I love my staff,  I love the respect it earns me.  And I love my Lola Maria.  I do believe I got this "business sense" gene from her. She was selling banana que and peanuts half of her life.  Helped my Lolo Tomas raise 10 children with her small thriving business. They sent their children to a reputable college. And I do believe the banana que and the peanuts made the difference.Now my Uncles and Aunties are well stablished. The children of Tomas and Maria Timbancaya did go a long way. Two teachers raising 10 kids, proudly sending them to university for college education. Sacrificed.  Now the third generation Timbancayas are battling our own battles but I know we’ll succeed.  We didn’t come all this way to head back, did we? So in my hardest and lowest moments,  I just think to myself.  My Lola Maria survived with the help of peanuts and bananas.  I sure would survive with my pizza and pasta.

* pinao- oven

paninda- wares

March 27, 2007 my life changed.

I woke up to a very normal day. Sunny, the way I like it.  Asked Ging-ging for my usual morning coffee.  Sat in front of the african lovebirds’ cage and listened to their songs as I do my morning reading. The morning was normal. Did all I had to do,  just routine stuff, like going to McCoy’s and making sure everything was okay. McCoy’s normally take up the whole morning.

Afternoon flew without any hitch.  Still normal, took care of the kids, made sure they were well fed, safe and happy. Of course, had to force Lya to do her exercises. But that is still within normal.

The day is at it’s end. The kids were already indoors and I was doing my daily exercise.  It’s not much.  Just an hour of walking around our subdivision and doing some stretchings and sit ups. This hour was for me.  It’s a time for me think. Having three kids, it’s not easy to find peace and quiet.

As I was enjoying "my" peace and quiet, I met Jeff.  He was the Smartbro agent for the wi-fi. Haha akala nyo kung ano na ano?  He was trying very hard to convince me to have wi-fi installed in my house. And since I am such a sucker for salespersons.  I simply feel empathy for him.  It’s not easy to sell. And since he’s such a nice young boy.  I said ok.  After all, he was giving me a good deal. 999 unlimited internet use.  It was cheap!!!

I really was happy I had wi-fi connected.  Now I’ve reconnected ties with long lost friends as I can now answer their emails more regularly.  And I am learning so many things from having a fast internet connection.  I love it.  From a computer idiot I’m slowly becoming a computer geek.  Naaaks……Just joking. I love this newfound skill that I’m acquiring.  Makes me feel like I’m accomplishing something.

The first reason I had the wi-fi connected was because I couldn’t say no to this Jeff because he had desperation written all over his face.  I’m guilty.  I really couldn’t say no.  And second,  was for the kids.  I thought they could use it for research in their studies.  I never thought that it could be beneficial for me as well. Now I consider it as one of my accomplishments this summer. Another one on my list.

     I’ve been born a Baha’i child. Meaning?  Born to 2 pioneer Baha’is means being taught the covenant since I could care to remember. Phases in my religious life.  Went through it all.

    Life as a Baha’i child was no different from everyone’s.  When you come from a family with 6 kids there seemed to be no need to look for playmates outside of your home. I didn’t notice that we had "weird" names and "weird" yearly habits until I started going to school. Then my first phase began. It was the " I feel so alone phase". Being a lone Baha’i in a class full of 40 christians, you can’t imagine how alone I really felt. It got worst when everyone found out I was never "baptised". Oh Wow!!! I was the only one not going to heaven. I still had the sin that our foreparents" Adam and Eve" committed. It was terrible.

    As I grew older I got used to the little petty things we missed like celebrating Christmas, sacrificing on the holy week( it was hard not to know as we lived terribly near the catholic church), not having ninong’s and ninang’s, etc. etc. After all we had our own holiday’s and the Baha’i community started getting bigger. Going occasionally to summer and winter schools was also a big bonus as I met more Baha’is.

     Then I went off to college. Silliman is a great school.  And yes I’ve met a lot of friends who up to this day remain my friends. But it can be a cruel town. Being alone  can be trying.  I had no relatives there and well,to make a long story short, I went through hard times. Maybe it was my immaturity but I actually started doubting if God actually exists. I was doing everything right? Or at least I’m constantly trying to. I do my daily prayers, try to do good every minute of my waking life, and teach the faith.  Why am I still having problems? I’m supposed to be rewarded.  Isn’t that what religions teach us in general? Why am still having problems?  I don’t know if it were my hormones, but I actually siezed believing in God.  I trully believed that life on earth is just a product of evolution and that death will be the end of it all.  And I actually didn’t care if there was life after death.  I trully didn’t give a damn.  I just thought I’ll just be like my stepdad who’s an agnostic.  He doesn’t believe in God but is one of the kindest person I know. I vowed to be good, to learn all the virtues to be used in this life, to be amiable to everyone that crosses my path, to be exemplary in my work, to have a commendable reputation not because I wanted to go to heaven after I die. I will be good because it is the correct thing to do. And if there’s life after death? As my mother-in-law always says.  Let’s cross the bridge when we get there.

     Years passed, I’m just doing my own thing. Got married, Had kids. Raised my kids the best I knew how.Of course with God in the middle of it all.  I see no reason why I should complicate their lives with my beliefs.They’re intitled to make their own complications in life.

     Half a month ago, as I was having my morning coffee in my usual spot in front of my african lovebirds cage, I started thinking about religion. I don’t know why it entered my mind.  Like a pop up icon it intruded into my thoughts. What is religion? Baha’i Faith  believes in the progressive revelation.  That God loves humanity so much that He sends a messenger time and time again to guide us humans into living our life right. It got me to think maybe it is true. Either that or it’s a product of a few demented individuals who rambled accidentally to the same tune. And I thought to myself the first probability is more logical. The fact that all religions teach being good in general can be mind boggling, It’s actually like a recipe for good life. New and improved but basically the same thing with just a few revisions to deal with the present way of life. So I decided to start searching again.  I started reading the Baha’i books I set aside.  So far I’m thankful because now I read with an unbiased mind and an open heart. I was just searching for something.  Just a clue that there’s some semblance of truth in religion.  Something for me to believe in. I’m not seaching for infallible proof.  Just a glimmer of hope.  So far I’m happy that there came a turning point in my life.  At least now I have found my peace.  Now life is so much easier to deal with. I don’t know what it is but I do feel better when I do my daily routine that Baha’i Faith suggest Baha’is  do. I don’t know where this search will lead me but wherever that is I’m sure it’s somewhere good. If this is the "prodigal daughter come back" phase, let’s see what the next few days will bring.  Bitin ba ang closing?

     2 days ago a friend of mine, Maria Sofia Nacionales, celebrated her birthday. After years of  separation I really didn’t remember when her birthday was. Was it my age?

     Greeted her through email.  And asked if she was going to have a parteeey!! And her answer got me to really think…… Are we getting old?

    Palawan is a beautiful island. In fact,  I am previledged to be a native of Puerto Princesa, the best city. Studied in the old elementary school of PPPilot Elem. School, attended high school in the Laboratory High School of then Palawan State College, and went away to Dumaguete for 2 years of college, but  came back to palawan to finish studying in my  old school-with-new- name Palawan State University.

     As I was growing up, nightouts was basically just going to the local pub and watching singers from manila belt out favorites like "laklak" and "alone"by the group " heart. Sipping the iced tea that came with the entrance fee was a talent we all honed to perfection.  That one glass of iced was all we drank till the third and final set of the band after which we would go to the fave lugawan called "chowqueen" along rizal ave.

     During late 80’s, the popular night places were "The Rig" disco and "musikahan".   If you wanted to dance you go to Rig, if you wanted to have a night of singing then go to Musikahan. In the 90’s, there was Rig disco turned Ballroom dancing venue which we didn’t frequent, again there still was the musikahan plus 2 new additions which were "The Blackbox" and "Club Uno". Now a decade later, all these listed above is history. Now we palawenos have Kinabuch and Scenario. There are a lot of night destinations but I think everyone will agree that these 2 dominate the nightscene.

     Now let’s go back to Sofie. I asked if she was going to have a parteeey!!  Living in New York I thought she’ll have a more exciting nightlife than us natives. I couldn’t be more wrong.  Turns out she just did what we always do. Have a quiet dinner with close friends. Miles apart and we do the same thing. Is it the way we were raised? Or are we aging?

     Growing up in Puerto I always  dreamed of being able to experience the night scene I only see in the movies. Those beautifully dressed people dancing to the same rythm. All having that glassy eyed faraway look of someone who’s alcohol level is at its peak. Everyone’s brotherly towards one another yet distant as to leave everyone to do whatever. I wanted to have a piece of it. Or I thought I did.

     Last summer of 2006, my cosmic brother Reujen Lista invited me to such a place. "Sige sis,  I’ll bring you to Embassy". I  coudn’t believe my ears.  I finally was going to have what I dreamt of all these years. And he was going to get us in.  You see it’s not that simple. Embassy is a nightplace yes, and you can go in anyday as long as you are 1. have 600 and 2. you’re properly attired.  But that’s not it. I didn’t just want to go to Embassy? I wanted to go to Embassy V.I.P!!! I know that’s where the action was. And that’s not an easy room to be in.  You have to have contacts. And as a native of Palawan I didn’t know who had access. So can you imagine how ecstatic I was to find out that Reujen was letting us in. I finally  was going to be one of those beautifully dressed people zonked out of my brain with intoxicating substances(mixed alcoholic drinks) that my mother would be shocked to find out I drank. I was going to experience it!!! I was really bouncingly excited. So tickled that I couldn’t wipe my grin off my face for 2 days.

     We started the "Embassy" night getting wasted at "Jill’s". At 2am, I was beginning to be depressed.  It’s almost pack up time and we were still at Jill’s.  Are we even going to Embassy? Did Reujen forget? Finally, at quarter to 3, Reujen stood up. "Tara!!! It’s time. Woooohooo!!! Tuloy pala. I was practically bouncing to Embassy.  All the wengweng downed was I guess instantly metabolized by my body. I’m so sad for Reujen,  because he was with a  wide eyed open mouthed ignorant kid promdiprovince. That must have been embarrassing for him and Ceska(his girlfriend). With Mark at my side, we entered into what can be compared to a dark hole. It was dark!! Nothing to light our way but the rhythmic stacato on and off of the lazer light beating with the  techno music.  Listen, I used to hate techno.  It’s waaaay too annoying for me. But with their sound system? They must have spent millions on the sounds.  I loved it.  And that night "GOD WAS IN THE HOUSE!!!!". I loved it. I just watched everyone. Just sank down in the sofa and continued downing the bottle we brought in with us.

     Ok, ok I did enjoy Embassy.  It was the day after that I suffered. I had a hangover that lasted for 2 days.  Yes, I did enjoy the night. But if 8 hours of happiness meant 48 hours of suffering then I can truly say I can pass up on any night outs anytime. It was an experience. And I was glad I was able to dip my finger in it. But I wouldn’t make a habit of it. Am I getting old?

     Now back to my peacefull town. Our perfect nightout would be having dinner with friends starting at about 7sh. After a no carbo meal,  we’ll probably have a cup or 2 of splenda laced coffee or if everyones up for it  which rarely happens,maybe have some cocktails. At about 11,  we would all be yawning and emagining our beds.  That’s how our weekends go.  It’s just old friends getting together, and talking about each others lives. Just catching up.  I always thought maybe it’s because we live in a place like Puerto where the choice of night places were limited. I always blamed our complacent way of having fun on the place  we live in.  The limited choice, the lack of liniency perhaps, and most of the time just plain lethargy.  But why does Sofie who lives miles away, in an exciting place like New York doing the same routine?  With all those choices of pubs to go to, she opts to just do the same as her native counterparts. Just a quiet time with her close friends. Now,  wouldn’t you wonder if you were me?  I must be getting old. Or worst!!! Maybe I am old.

     Mark just left with the two kids. He’s dropping them off in "Jungle Base"( that’s my in-laws house).  Emily just delivered an adorable baby boy and they’re very excited to play with the baby.  I still don’t know what they’ve decided to call him.

     Lara is grumpy.  Trying very hard to ignore me. She’s now in the room reading a book. And everytime our eyes meet she sticks out her tongue at me. She’s really mad. I didn’t let her go with her siblings. She really has to rest.  She’s been under the weather lately. 

     Lya is losing weight  gradually.  I noticed her shirt fitting better on her. She’s improving in her swimming as well.  Nanay promised her something if she reaches 78 lbs. Maybe that’s why she hasn’t been overeating lately.

    Leon is as usual in high spirits.  He’s been like that since he found out that  his circumcision will be postponed to next summer vacation. 

     I excused myself to going with Mark today.  I’ve been neglecting McCoy’s these past few days.  I’m just so happy I can trust my staff. They’re really reliable. I’ll spend the whole afternoon in McCoy’s today.  Have to do a lot of paperworks.

    Well, I guess todays going to be routine. What a boring day.

     I started having this habit of reading several books at one time when I was in college.  Silliman University had the biggest library in Asia during the early 90’s and the fact that my dormitory was just 3 minutes walk away made it easy for me to come visit it anytime I wanted to.

     It was just a different world in there. Rows and rows of books on shelves beginning from floor to ceiling. It was amazing for me see. Three whole floors of plain reading materials. I was dumbfounded.  It never occured to me that such a library existed.  It was as big as the ampitheatre!!! I think even bigger.

     I started being the typical borrower doing typical reading.  Borrow a book,  read it, return. That’s how it goes. But there were too many books and only 4 years of study. I began hoarding books.  Students were allowed to borrow up to a dozen books at a time and believe me,  I always had a dozen book written on my "borrow card".  In my room there were 4 piles of books classified as books "just borrowed", "reading now", "to be continued", and "to be returned". It was always a mess in my study table(it was too small to begin with anyway), and my bed( which was just a little bigger than my study table). All those books borrowed and magazines bought classified into what I call an " organized mess ". Within my area I called home while in Silliman, books always surrounded me. Literally!! In the confines of my room, within the organized mess that I managed to attain, was a small clearing on my bed.  A space just enough for me to curl up in everynight when I finally can’t prevent my eyes from closing. Reading had been an escape for me. Then and now. It’s a way for me to get away from it all. It’s the fastest and cheapest way to do so. This weird reading habit of mine was my coping mechanism, a way for me to wait things out. Throughout my life, I’ve discovered that sound judgement is rarely done in haste. That patience is indeed a virtue.

     Right now  I am reading 4 books. All providing inspiration for me. The main book that I’m reading now is "All Things Made New by John Ferraby"," Created Rich by Patrick Barker", "DayBreak By Christine Kurzius-Krug" and "House of Bush, House of Saud by Craig Unger". The first 3 books are all Baha’i books, thus very inspirational for me.  And the last book was lent to me by my friend Melrose Oquendo-Tan, this book is purely for entertainment.

     Each book has it’s own character, that’s why I prefer reading many books at a time. When I’m in a dark mood I read All things Made New.  When I’m in a dilemma,  I read "Created Rich" Or "Daybreak", when I’m ecstatic,  I read my prayer book, just to say "thank you", and when bored I’ll pick the "House of Bush, House of Saud". It’s pretty simple, I have a book in every mood and I’m really not in a hurry to finish reading a book.  I believe that books should be enjoyed. The pleasure is in reading it. Not in finishing it.  Though back in college, this weird reading habit started because of my impatience, today it’s my method in gaining patience. Nice no?

     Just accomplished sending the kids to sleep.  It’s been a while since they’ve done this. Nap, I mean. After lunch I told them to nap and threatened to spank anyone who doesn’t. Now, an hour and a half later,  I’m about to wake them up and bring them to Dolce Vita to have their daily swimming.  I intend to do this the whole summer.  Kids should grow up with enough sleep and exercise.  Lya is now 10 years old and Leon is turning 9. I once read in a book that it is "imperative" for a human being to have at least one sport,   and one musical instrument.  I totally agree. Furthermore,  I do believe that the love for reading should be instilled in children.

     I remember long time ago.  When I was a child roaming the streets of taft and Quito.  My dad strictly prohibited us from watching too much tv and reading too many comic books.  Of course the "too much" is relative. Watching anything that’s not news was considered "too much". Reading comic books other than the weekly edition of "Funny comics" is  "too much". I used to think I hated these rules.  But now that I’ve grown into a parent.  I understood what he was trying to instill in us.  And am doing the same for my kids.  So now,  my kids probably feels the way I felt about my dad before,  but I’m sure when they grow up,  they will appreciate what I’m trying to do for them and will love me for doing so. This summerlong training will be hard for them but once they know how to swim.  They will be happy I insisted they do it.  Just Do It!! That’s my motto in life.