Holy Week ruminations

My daughter Ripley's pc artwork titled "butterfly" -- a perfect image to post here for this holy week while reflecting on Christ's death and resurrection.

We have been cooped up in the house since Wednesday and this being Black Saturday, nothing has changed. Holy Week is a time for prayer and reflection for us Catholics, and I've been doing a bit of both while spending quality time with the kids. I've done a lot of cooking in spite of the fact that we should be fasting, this being Holy Week and all. My excuse is that I have kids and I can't feed them boiled eggs till Easter, right? So my apologies, but I had to make that garlic and lemon chicken with avocado and orange salad yesterday. Aside from cooking, I did a lot of cleaning as well, a tradition that I've been doing since college. Tomorrow, I guess I'm ready to get out of hibernation, have a nice Easter lunch somewhere or go to the beach.

In the meantime, I'm signing off. I'll be listing this day as one of those ho-hum days. But hey, who's complaining?

First Post for the Year 2012

Happiness + Prosperity in 2012!
This was my new year's greeting to everyone via FB, Twitter and SMS, my way of spreading holiday cheer and what have you.

I checked out my fate for the year 2012 and according to some Chinese wise men (i.e. Feng Shui experts), those born in the year of the rat will have good fortune in the year of the Dragon. Whupak! Haters back off, I shall own this and believe that this year will be fabulous for me.

I actually spent most of New Year's eve cooking in my parent's house. I made 2 kinds of pasta (one with pesto and another with meat sauce), baked 2 kinds of cake, made cream cheese icing, and made one dish for my Dad (Creamy Dory Parmesan Fillets). I don't have a picture of the food as we forgot the memory card of my hi-tech camera at home. So all we had to show for our exciting new year's eve celebration was a phone video footage where the only thing I could see was the lame flame coming from my bummed out sparklers. Nice.

The next day, I had the chance of taking a photo of the left-over chocolate cake. So here goes:


My daughter Ripley helped me with the icing, and although the cake doesn't look like a million bucks, believe me, it was delicious.

Here are also a few dishes I've whipped up since the new year that I wanted to document for future reference. My son calls some of my dishes "one-hit wonders" because I can't duplicate them after I've cooked them. I cook from the heart and whatever is in the refrigerator, and being a busy working mom, I don't have all day to write down recipes. At least, with these dishes holding residence in this blog, I can finally duplicate them by sight. Yahoo!


This is actually what I made as a side dish to my Parmesan Chicken with Coriander. It's good old eggplant and red bell pepper sauteed in olive oil and sprinkled with chili flakes. I dribbled some balsamic vinegar with olive oil to it and voila!


Here's my Parm Chicken. I pounded a few slices of chicken breasts, roughly sliced some coriander and mixed it with bread crumbs and parmesan cheese. Then I slathered the chicken slices with flour, dipped them in my egg mixture (1 beaten egg with a teaspoon of water), and dunked them in the bread crumb mixture. Of course, the next step is frying them in vegetable oil. Yum!

Tonight, we had Pork Sisig for dinner. It's made of pork cutlets, chili flakes, fresh sili (native chili pepper), green bell pepper, green beans, egg, and my secret sisig mixture. I then squeezed some lemon before serving. Sinful!


Yes, I had to double the dose of my hypertensive meds for this!

Hmm... this blog is turning out to be a food blog. But it's not. It's just that these days I'm obsessed with food. And losing weight.

Till next post! Happy eating!

You can't call yourself a Pinoy if...

... you haven't made a "parol" or Christmas lantern in your life. I had to pop my hypertensive meds soon after I glued the last bit of paper on the darn thing, which just goes to show that one parol could, quite possibly, kill you.

My son Zach had to submit his parol project for school and being the good mother that I am, I helped him out not knowing the stress involved in making that teeny tiny harmless looking project.

If you want to try making one, make your life easier by buying a pre-fab frame. Zach and I wanted a Green lantern. So we cut up some pages from old magazines. For added pizzazz, we added silver tinsel boas (or whatever you call them). You can recycle your Christmas decors from previous years and stick 'em on your lantern if you want to be environment-friendly.

To share my stress, here's a video on how to make a Christmas lantern.

Good luck. Keep your Catapres on hand. Have a Merry Christmas!!

First Day

Today was my daughter's first day of school. I was expecting drama, tears, and a lot of pulling and tugging. But no, Ripley dumped me at the door and didn't even look back to blow me a kiss. Bu-hu-hu! Sob! Okay, now I'm having a massive insecurity problem. Is there something wrong with me as a mom? She didn't even want to go home when I went back to pick her up! Oh well, I guess I did a good job of "briefing" her. She actually told me she's in it for the slide and the monkey bars... I'm so proud of you baby!

grasshoppers, etc.

My son had a playlet last week and I kinda harassed the whole Pijuan clan which included my dear mom-in-law and my sister-in-law (not to mention all of great Grandma Minia's household crew) just so Zaki won't look like the grasshopper from hell. I was, on the other hand, the stage mother from hell, hanging out with the other stage moms at the backstage holding Zak's wings which my talented sister-in-law Ella made. Mommy sewed Zak's green suit and the only thing I did was to dye the stockings green. I've never been the crafty type and man, it was darn hard. I almost dyed the pan green because of my bullheadedness. The thing is, that pan was my sinigang pan, so the next day, I was kind of expecting my soup to turn minty in color. Ugh!

So I was utterly useless, save for googling Zak's grasshopper mask, I just made everybody paranoid with my incessant complaints and rantings. But the costume was done in a day in spite of the fact that I frazzled my mom-in-law's nerves in the process. Ripley was whining about why she didn't have a butterfly mask and wings and I had to appease her with some lollipop and er, empty promises just to shut her up.

I was so proud of Zak as he did his best on stage. He's such an awesome kid, I mean, if you're a 9 year old boy, would you wear green stockings and spandex on stage? That could be detrimental to his future mental health and may lead to lifetime therapy, which, I'm sorry, I'll never ever be financially prepared for. But he did it and he did it with such aplomb and pizzazz! Way to go my boy! You were the best-looking grasshopper in the history of best-looking grasshoppers. You made mommy proud!

Zak on stage with some t-shirt wearing dragonfly (this kid's mom
must be the exact opposite of OC me)

mommy this and daddy that

This is the story of two haggard individuals who, after being bestowed the title "mom" and "dad" now have to deal with the endless whining of two crazy kids. Having no nanny has resulted in many, many late nights and too early mornings, stinky towels, and dolls with severed hands and heads.

Ah, the joy of parenthood -- what a paradox! Is there joy when you have to stop mid munch of your dinner or your lunch so that your little girl can pee and poo? Is there joy when your daughter who calls herself "Ripley the Rascal" (yes, and she's living up to the name) suddenly screams "Mommy I farted!" in the middle of the mall with a hundred people within hearing distance? Is there joy when your son tells you to smell his soggy towel and asks you by virtue of your 'smell test' the philosophical question, "Should I put this in the hamper Mom, or not?"

There are, however, lucid intervals in the lunacy that surrounds our little, happy family. Such as when our dear 3 year old daughter Ripley queried, "Dad, is Barack Obama the president of America now?" Or, when our son Zaki, after tasting a spoonful of a dish that I cooked, made a perfect rundown of all the ingredients that I used,"Go easy on the salt Mom, but I like the taste of the tomatoes and the cheese with the fresh basil..."

Taking care of our kids can be stressful and often temper-inducing. But in spite of that, we're happy. And aside from the embarassing mall farting reportage, we're also ultra proud of them. As for me and my husband, no matter how painfully tired we are at the end of the day and the only conversation we manage to have are our synchronized snores, I think we've never had a better understanding of each other than we do now.

Zaki and Ripley in their best behavior at our farm last Christmas

i love you my babies

I miss my kids. Zachary, my almost 9 year old son chatted with me this morning and he told me how much he misses me. "I'm lonely without you, Mom." These words coming from him pains me. To say that I miss my kids is an understatement. But there are some things that need to be done here. Everything about my life right now is for my children. I may blabber about my life as if I'm having such a great time here, but truth be told, I'm miserable. Very, very miserable. My kids make me happy. Without them, I feel so empty and incomplete. But I know that this will come to pass. Soon I'll have my precious children with me. I love you babies.

while I was sleeping

I woke up today after a relatively good night's sleep in spite of the wind howling outside which I could hear above the racket made by the ancient heater beside my bed. Yesterday was a fun day for me (mass at Weehawken, lunch at Shanghai Joe in Queens -- the dumpling / siopao with soup inside its gooey dough was fantastico, book shopping, etc.) -- it was after all, my day, Mother's Day. And so, with yesterday's activities that sapped my 30-something body with all of its strength, it's best that I stay at home today. And I don't think I want to step outside really, what with the wind and the rain and the fact that I'm just a hundred pounds, give and take. With my weight plus my small, feeble umbrella, I might end up somewhere in the middle of the Hudson River if I'm lucky or on top of the Empire State Building if I'm luckier (because, I could just take the elevator down and go shopping in 34th St. -- no sweat).

After my morning coffee (a prerequisite to my day, or else my friend Ms. Migraine would come a-visiting if I don't chug the brew early on), I checked my emails and my messenger. Apparently, while I was sleeping like a baby, my real baby, Zaki, was patiently waiting for me to log in so he could chat with me. We chatted for a few minutes and said our goodbyes. My son was of course ecstatic after I told him that I was able to get his Ben 10 game.

While checking my emails, I read the news and felt so down. What is happening to the earth? First Myanmar, with thousands dead, and then China's earthquake, and the tornado in the south (in Georgia, including Missouri and Oklahoma). I'm thinking, the catastrophes might all be related. Mother nature unleashing her fury because of man's apathy, neglect, and abuse.

I feel for all the families that might have been separated, for all those who've lost something and more importantly someone, for the tragedy brought about by nature's wrath -- I deeply empathize.

While I was sleeping, somebody in China, in Myanmar, or in Oklahoma was grieving. What can I do here? What can we do? Today, I'm saying a special prayer for the victims of these unfortunate disasters. And a special prayer also goes for the safety of my own family back home. Today, we should all count our blessings and be grateful. God is good. And He is in our midst.

Smoky eyes and lemon pie 2

Sometimes I get obsessed with a topic and tweak it to death. I tweaked this one and ended up with something bigger than it was originally supposed to be. But I like it better. It's more me. A little loony and a bit loopy. Hmm.. methinks I'll send this to the newspaper. Recycling is always the best! Anyway, read on.

Four days into my self-imposed holiday and I'm bored out of my skull. In between watching Jamie Oliver and Giada De Laurentiis, there's really nothing much to do but cook. So far, I've whipped up a mean zitti with sausage, basil, and tomatoes (I mixed 3 kinds of sausages: Italian, Hungarian, and Vienna and added ground beef to the tomato sauce); a Shaker lemon pie where I had to wrestle with an uncooperative pâte brisée; and a pot of steaming pancit molo. By the time, this article goes to print, I’ll probably have a casserole full of corn pudding warming on the kitchen counter. I’m no expert in the cooking department but I do love to whip up new dishes for my kids. Sometimes I fail miserably especially when some baking is involved, but most of the time I’m actually capable of making something that my kids can eat without throwing up. (I’m just being modest, of course.)

Aside from slaving in the kitchen, I've been learning how to put on eye make up. Last night I did the smoky eye effect using black and gray eye shadow and I feel pretty smug because it actually came out really beautiful and dramatic (as opposed to looking like somebody hit me with a non-stick frying pan on both eyes -- yes, in my world that could happen, but I usually do the pan-hitting).

I know I looked fine after the make up session because Zaki just looked at me and yawned. Ripley did a double take but thereafter screamed "I want make-up, mommy!", which I assumed was an adamant request from a 2 year old to look 20 years older. I was expecting her to say “raccoon” but thank God her animal vocab is quite limited being 2 and all. My ever supported husband on the other hand just said, "That looks nice, babe." To which I replied, "I thought you hated make up." To which he replied, "Make-up is okay, it's jewelry that I hate." There's nothing more heartwarming than knowing that your family supports you -- yes, even with utterly trivial matters like eye make-up.

I know I won’t be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, the Palanca, or even Miss Congeniality in some trite beauty pageant (where my 2 year old can speak better English compared to half of the contestants) by doing the things that I’ve been doing for the past days. I know I’m dilly-dallying. I know it’s IQ-zapping to stay in the house day in and day out and be concerned about the most mundane of things (i.e. mulling over when the next CSI rerun will be, researching Heather Mills by typing “gold digger” on Google, and ruminating over which brand of shampoo is better for my daughter’s sensitive scalp). But it’s actually quite exhilarating, to be in the state where I am in right now. Nothing like the prosaic to remind me of how profound life truly is.

People always talk about their so-called “A-ha moments”, those pivotal, defining moments of their lives. I know you’re all familiar with what I’m talking about and some of you might even be having that moment right now as you’re reading my column. (That or you’re having an aneurysm – probably the latter, I know!) I’m sure Oprah would be so proud of you and all that, but sometimes, these Oprahesque take on life gets so maddeningly passé for me.

Sometimes all I want to do is puke when I read stuff like “As I stood there all alone surrounded by the breathtaking beauty of dusk, inner peace engulfed me.” I actually understand where that kind of phony profundity comes from (probably from reading sappy Danielle Steel books and committing to memory a few lines from some retro Hallmark greeting card).What puzzles me is that people never say things like “As I poured laundry soap in the washing machine, I began to understand the purpose of my life” or “I changed my baby’s diapers today and as I wiped her smooth buttocks with alcohol-free wipes (yes, it has to be alcohol-free), it dawned on me that life is indeed beautiful.”

Why do we have to be so irritatingly and superficially insightful when there’s so much material for profundity in real life? Don’t tell me that my baby’s buttocks are less inspiring than dusk (which to me is quite overrated because it’s actually the time of the day when mosquitoes come out, not to mention crickets, and frogs – you get my drift) or that one can’t be philosophical while doing smelly laundry.

And so, as I sit here in front of my computer wondering when this article will end because I have to go and cut my daughter’s toe nails, I can’t help but feel genuinely happy and content. There’s nothing like doing the most boring and inconsequential task to tell you that you’re living your life to the fullest!

does this mean i'm a grown-up?

I had a parent-teacher conference today. Actually it was one parent against 2 teachers. Hubby couldn't come because of work, which meant I was outnumbered, but I managed to hold my own, thank you very much. You see, before Zak had his Christmas vacation, I had a major psychotic episode involving one of his teachers. I don't know whose fault it was exactly, but my son was not able to take his 3rd quarter exams because he came in 3 hours late. For some reason, we (meaning me, my hubby and the nanny) just assumed that since his class schedule was in the afternoon, he'd also be taking his exams at the usual time which was 12:30 pm. Huge mistake. Apparently, the whole school had an activity and moved all exams slated in the afternoon in the morning, hence, the reason for Zak's 3 hour delay. I'm an old girl myself , (those who graduate from Assumption are called "old girls" or "old boys") so I know what 3 hours of tardiness means -- NO MAKE UP EXAMS. I think it was different during our time, but now, this SOP is being enforced in Gestapo-like alacrity (a contradiction in terms, I know, but I think they derive great satisfaction when a kid misses an exam and when they tell you that they can't give any make up tests as per school policy). Regardless of what valid reason any child might have -- a broken leg, a pulled out tooth, 41 C temp, and other similar mishaps -- the "no make up exam" policy stays. That's just the way it is. No excuse. No exemptions.

Of course, this SOP did not go well with my 10 am coffee. I just had to call the teacher and explained why Zak was late. I said there was a reason why I enrolled my child in the afternoon class and not in the morning class. The incessant changing of schedule was making his circadian rhythm, his internal clock go cuckoo. Of course, my laments and rantings fell on deaf ears. "No make up exams, Mrs. Pijuan, it's school policy. Heil, Hitler!" So I cracked, I just broke down in tears angry and frustrated at why Zak couldn't take his tests. I screamed, I sobbed, I made a fool of myself. The teacher tried to calm me down. As a last recourse (and to stop me from making an even bigger fool of myself), she told me that they would deliberate on the matter along with the academic coordinator, etc., etc.

And so, the verdict was passed this afternoon. It went well I think. We all kissed and made up. Zak still can't take the test (the Gestapo wins!) but his grades will be adjusted accordingly. They'll only be computing 2/3 of his grades sans the 1/3 from his missed exam, so he'll pretty much retain his previous VS in Computer and Civics or maybe even get higher marks. (I think they were trying to appease me by giving Zak a higher VS in both subjects.)

Sometimes, we mothers have to put our foot down. And, it pays to be dramatic sometimes...