House that, Papa?

We spotted hermit crabs crawling hurriedly on the beach one morning.

"Look, papa!" the little one exclaimed. "Small crabs!"

"They're called hermit crabs, Bela. Let's take one home," her older brother suggested.

"Sorry guys but we can't," kill joy papa intervened. "We shouldn't harm animals."

"But we're not going to harm it," Gabi pleaded. "We will take care of it."

"Yes, papa. It will be our pet." Bela echoed.

"But most animals are not meant to be pets," I tried to explain. "We actually harm animals once we remove them from their habitat."

"What's habitat?" the little one asked.

"Habitat is where the animal lives." I answered authoritatively.

"Then there's no problem!" Gabi pronounced after some thought.  "We can take a hermit crab with us, Papa... Because a hermit crab always carries its home on its back!"

Down ... but not out!

The scoreline was depressing: Makati Football School - Eleven (11) - Raya School - Nil (0). 

And that was for the very first game of Gabi's 6 years old-and-under team in the Alaska Cup 2011.

The team was totally outclassed. Never have the young kids encountered such skilled opponents. Never have they played against teams that actually employed strategies in the game. 

And the Raya Razkals played all their games without subs. Unlike the other teams who were up to 12 man deep in the seven a side tournament.

The neophyte team went on to lose the rest of their games. All against established football institutions. All via big margins. Don Bosco Academy, 0 - 5. La Salle Zobel, 0 - 8. 

They also lost to Alabang Football School and Atletico Diliman Football Club. But by this time, I already stopped counting the goals.

The kids though never gave up. Though outclassed, they continued to fight. Though outplayed, they gave their all. Though outscored, they never lost hope.

The five matches in four hours took its toll on the kids. They were sun burned, hungry and bone tired. Many of them had cuts and bruises. Our valiant goalie even got hit in the face.

I hugged Gabi as he walked off the field after the last game. I gave him "5" and quietly accompanied him back to the tent. I didn't know what to say.

What do I tell my son after such a beating? How do I tell him that things will be better? How do I pick him up after this bad fall?

But before I could even say something remotely inspiring, Gabi sensed my melancholy and said: "Don't worry, Papa, we'll do better next time."

He then ran off to join his team mates for a last powow and a last cheer:

"Raya! One Team!"

Halloween 2011

For Halloween in Woodside Gabi and Bela came as mummies. Patty soaked the strips of cloth in coffee, dried them and then twirled them around the two. Unfortunately, the strips slowly unraveled as the kids went around the village for trick or treat.

For Raya School's Pangangaluwa, were the students were encouraged to wear costumes depicting creatures from Philippine mythology, Gabi dressed as a dwende while Bela came as a Babaeng Puti.

 

Chill, papa! Chill!

"Why are you wearing a sweater?" I asked Gabi this morning. "It's no longer raining and the sun is out."

Gabi shrugged his shoulders, his way of saying "You just don't understand, Papa."

"No need to wear a sweater this morning, my son." I wanted to convince him. "It's no longer cold."

"Papa," Gabi rolled his eyes. "I don't wear this because it's cold. I wear it because it's cool!"

Kuya can you hear me?

"Look what I made in school, kuya." Bela wanted to impress Gabi.

"Two cans and a string? What's that?" a bored Gabi replied.

"It's a telephone! Look, put this can on your ear and I will whisper on the other."

"I can't hear you. Sorry." Gabi said, obviously not wanting to play this game with his younger sister.

"Hmm..." Bela was puzzled since the device worked perfectly earlier in school. "Since I was using it earlier today, maybe now it's low batt?"

Gabi Performs

Gabi likes to sing and dance. Gabi likes Bruno Mars. Here's Gabi's rendition of Bruno Mars' hit.

One, Two, Three, Four, Five ...

I bring Bela to school every day. I go home from the office before twelve noon, have a quick lunch with Patty and then bring a fresh from her nap Bela to her 1 pm class in Raya School. Bela prefers this arrangement. She wants me to bring her to school and then Mommy to pick her up.

Each trip to school is like a The Count segment in Sesame Street. Bela just loves to count! And like the Sesame Street muppet, she likes to count anything and everything. To make things a little more interesting, I tell her to count something different each day. One day we counted motorcycles. When it was raining we counted umbrellas on one day and raincoats the next. We've counted taxis, stray dogs, people wearing caps, people wearing eyeglasses, people in long sleeves, people in shorts, cops, tricycles, people wearing back packs, people wearing slippers, vehicles with more than four wheels, people with no hair, people with long hair!

It's a lot of fun! And we both enjoy playing the The Count. And the best thing about it is that unlike most of her classmates who can only count up to twenty at the most, Bela can now easily count to even 60. Not bad for a daily two kilometer ride. : )

P.S. Why 60? We actually counted 60 umbrellas during one rainy day. :)

Her Birthday Wish

"So what do you want to do for your 3rd birthday, Bela?" Patty asked our little girl. "Do you want to have a party? Or do you want to go to Anvaya?"

"Hmmm," she gave the question serious thought. "I think I want to have a party?"

"Okay, Bela, we'll have a party," Patty said. "And where do you want to have the party?"

"In Anvaya, of course!"

Not Too Old Enough

Gabi is 6 years old now and is in Grade 1 already. Our baby has now grown up. He no longer snuggles up to Patty and I in bed. Getting him to kiss us in the morning is already difficult. I dread the day that he will ask me not to hug him in front of his friends.

But once in a while he still shows flashes of his old sweet self. Like one day last week when he left these love notes on my office desk.

Moody One

I hurriedly woke Bela up from her nap when I got home at lunch time. I had to get her ready for school and it was already getting late.

Wrong move. She turned cranky. And difficult. 

She wanted to wear her red uniform instead of the prescribed blue. So I made her wear one on top of the other. 

Then she insisted on wearing her kuya's big shoes even if she ended up stumbling all the way to school. 

But at least she was smiling now, giggling as she entered her classroom with her funny clown outfit. 

Hair's Another One

Bela insisted on wearing this to school this afternoon. Apparently she misplaced her hair clips.

And so she did. And now we can't hang our laundry to dry.

Best in Costume

"So which costume did you like best?" I asked my six year old son when he got home from school.

To commemorate the 150th birthday of our national hero, Jose Rizal, Gabi and the entire elementary school were asked to come dressed in clothes typical of late 19th century Philippine society.

Gabi came in a white camisa, khaki pants and slippers: our take of the clothing common folk wore at that time.

Others came in plain white shirts with red bandanas round their necks and straw hats on their heads: the gear of the revolutionary Katipuneros.

Some even came in barong tagalogs and Maria Clara gowns, traditional formal attires.

"My favorite was the boy who wore black pants, jacket, hat and shoes and white shirt and socks." Gabi answered. "He looked so cool!"

"And who was that boy supposed to be dressed like?" I asked, trying to test my son's knowledge of Jose Rizal.

"Duh, Papa!" Gabi stared at his seemingly clueless father. "Michael Jackson, of course!"

Wrong hero, my son.

Like Father, Like Son

While watching a replay of Game 6 of the NBA Finals, Gabi suddenly smiled.

"Do you know who the leader of the Heat is, Papa?"

"Who, Gabi?" I asked, knowing that there was a joke on its way.

"The guy with number 1 on his shirt, Chris Bosh," he answered. "And do you know why?"

"Because he's number one!" I said, confident of getting the joke.

"Sorry, wrong! He's the leader cause he's the boss! Hahaha. Get it, Papa? The boss!"

"Hahaha! That's funny, my son." And we both laughed our hearts out.

What I really found funny though was that apparently, my son inherited my kind of humor!

Hmm, I wonder though if my wife will also find this whole episode amusing.

Bela Redeemed

Bela wanted me to post this picture of her. This time with her hair fixed. And without any intervention from brother Gabi.

Much better, don't you think?

Experimenting on Bela

Gabi went to the parlor the other day and discovered the wonders of molding clay. He was amazed at how it could shape hair.

He asked his mom to buy him some clay and then went home to experiment on his sister.

His Team, His Choice

"Sorry, Papa," my 6 year old son Gabi announced."My team is now Miami Heat!"

And just like that this father's once all powerful influence over his son's preferences was gone. Not too long ago, Gabi would always rely on me when made to make decisions. My opinion clearly mattered in choosing what color of shirt to wear or what team to cheer for.

"You're favorite color is blue, right?" he'd ask and then promptly don a  blue shirt.

"I'm cheering for Spain too!" he always said when we watched the last World Cup.

And I was always right. He really looked good in blue and Spain went on to win the World Cup.

But alas, my omniscience was finally put to the test during this NBA playoffs.

I have always been a Celtics fan. From the days of the original big three, Bird, McHale and Parish. So naturally, when Gabi asked me early this year which team he should support, there was no other choice but Boston. Until they lost in the 2nd round.

"Boston lost. Who do we support now?" Gabi asked.

"The Bulls," I said confidently. "They had the most wins this year and they also have the best player."

And they lost promptly in 6 games. And I lost my credibility as a basketball expert.

Yesterday, while Gabi was shopping for school stuff with his mother, he called me and asked if he could buy a basketball jersey. And he showed me the Lebron James jersey later in the afternoon.

"See, Papa. I've made my choice," he proudly said. "Maybe you too should cheer for them!"

I will. For my son's sake.

Maybe Next Time

Patty and I had an early appointment this Saturday morning and so had to rush out of the house with the kids still sleeping. It was something I didn't want to do as I always try to save my weekends with the kids. And so when our appointment ended earlier than we had anticipated, we hurriedly called the house and told the kids that we were going out to have breakfast.The kids love going out and we thought that the unplanned date would be a welcome treat to both of them.

We were wrong. Only Bela was waiting for us. Gabi didn't want to go. Apparently when he woke up and we were not home, he went knocking next door and asked if his friends wanted to play. And that's what he was doing when we got home. Playing ball with our neighbors, his friends from the time they were all babies.

"Sorry, Papa, but I'm already playing. You should have told me earlier." Gabi reasoned out.

"But you can always play with them after," I tried to change his mind.

"Sorry, Papa. Maybe next time."

Ahh, heartbreak.

Gabi just turned 6 and will be in Grade 1 next month. He has grown a lot. We've always wanted Gabi to be independent, to have his own friends and not to rely too much on us. Besides, we've always believed that our job as parents is to make our kids prepared to go through life on their own. In a sense, parenting is about readying our kids to leave us.

But not now! Not yet. Not for a long, long time.

"Okay, Gabi." I gave in. "But promise next time, okay?"

And I hugged him. Tight and for a long time. And kissed him over and over again. I knew he was getting a bit embarassed since his friends could see us.

But I hugged him even more. This is is my baby, and forever my baby he will be.

"Why, Papa, why?"

Bela is now at that stage when she asks questions all the time. And you better be ready with straight answers as she will not stop asking. She needs to know and she'll let you know about it.

"Why do you wear glasses, Papa?" Bela asked one afternoon after I arrived from work.

"Because I cannot see clearly without them," I tried to answer.

"And why can't you see well?" Bela wanted to know.

"Ah, because my eyes are, er, sick," I tried to simplify my answer.

"Sick? But I don't hear your eyes cough, Papa!"

Goooooaaaaal!

"Final score: 3-2. Gabi scored all three goals!" read my brother's text message last Thursday morning.

I couldn't believe it. Just like that, Gabi's twelve month winless streak in football was finally over. For the first time in over a year, Gabi was in the winning team. And he scored all the goals to boot!

Gabi started playing football in April 2008 when he was barely three years old. We enrolled him in the Futbol Funatics summer camp in the Meralco Fitness Center in Ortigas. He has been playing there ever since.

I had always wanted Gabi to play football. Growing up, my father encouraged and even forced all his children to take up some form of sports. Especially during the summer months. So whether it was tennis in the village courts, basketball in Kulyawan Youth Club, football in the Makati Football School or even golf in Valley Golf in Antipolo, our summer was full of activity. And full of fun.

I was definitely more excited than Gabi when he was finally old enough to join a football summer clinic. I bought him complete soccer kits, from cleats to jerseys to even shin guards. And I would accompany him to each and every session, staying under the sun with him, staying near enough so I could give him encouraging words but far enough as not to annoy his coaches. And when we'd get home after the sessions, I would ask him to redo the drills with me. Though most of the time, he'd rather just run off to the playground than have to listen to Papa's lectures.

Yes, I am a Soccer Dad. And quite a passionate one at that. I admit that I catch myself from time to time reliving my past as a football player through Gabi's little feet.

I just hope I don't put too much pressure on my son. At least not all the time.Good thing Patty is always there to tell me to take it easy when I get too involved watching Gabi play. She also gently reminds me not too be to disappointed if Gabi doesn't share the same passion that I have for the game.

And indeed there have been times when Gabi's interest in the game has waned. It was at its lowest last October when he was in the middle of his losing streak.

Gabi seemed lethargic and disinterested. He wasn't running after the ball and he let opponents slip past him without a challenge. I kept egging him on, telling him to run faster and kick harder. Nothing helped. In fact, it probably make things worse. One day, after another loss, he finally got the courage to talk to me.

"Papa, soccer is not fun anymore," he whimpered. "When will I ever be in a winning team?"

I hugged him. I wanted to tell him that it was okay to quit. But I knew that wouldn't be the right answer. So I just held him tight. Until he broke the embrace and said he already wanted to play with his Bakugan.

The losing streak ended last Thursday. Unfortunately, I wasn't there to witness it. Gabi scored three goals and I don't even have photos or a video of the momentous event.

Well, maybe it was best that I wasn't there. It was Gabi's moment to savor. I would probably have made a fool of myself anyway, running into the field and screaming my head off in celebration. And three times at that.

This afternoon, a good three days after his glorious performance in the field, out of nowhere Gabi hugged me and whispered, "I love you, Papa. Thank you for teaching me how to play soccer." And off he ran to the village park, to play football with his friends.

Smart Girl, This One!

Bela: I'm thirsty, Mommy. Can I have water please?

Mommy: I'm sorry, Bela, but I don't have water with me here. Why don't you go down and ask yaya for a glass of water.

Bela: But why me, Mommy?

Mommy: Because you're the one who's thirsty, my love.

Bela: Okay ... Do you also want some water, Mommy?

Mommy: Why, thank you, Bela. Yes, I'd like to have some water too.

Bela: Okay, Mommy, so you go and get water for the two of us!

When Life Imitates Art

Or when Gabi pretends to be his favorite zombie going against imaginary plants.

Pretty in Pink

Bela now likes to pick the clothes she wears. And she always chooses pink. From top to toes.

I wonder what it is with the color  pink and young girls? Are girls born to like the color? Or am I just perpetuating a cliche? Are parents --- and grandparents! --- just brainwashed by manufacturers of kids' clothes and toys into thinking that all girls like pink?

And what if a young girl shows preference for say, blue? Or what if a boy shows a liking for pink? Isn't it true that we try to change their tastes?

Conformists we all are. And not just with colors.

The Fall. The Hurt.

I saw he was hurting. After the fall. Not only his scratched knee but more so his bruised ego. But he didn't show it and put up a brave front. He walked it off with a slight limp and a brave smile.

At times like this, all you can do is give him a high five and embrace him. Not too tight nor too long lest you embarrass him in front of his friends. No need to say, "it's okay, my son, you did your best." He knows that already. And has the scars to prove it.

He never talked about it and I never probed. Until  last Sunday, a good week after the incident, when we had breakfast in McDonald's, just the two of us. "Papa, do you think I could have won that race?" he asked in between fries. "Yes, son, you could have," I simply replied. And hugged him tight.

The Shy One

Gabi is outgoing and very friendly. Give him a few minutes in a new place and he quickly makes friends. "Hi, my name is Gabi. Can I be your friend?" is always his icebreaker. And almost always he ends up with new play mates for the day.

Bela is the shy one. When in a new place she is at first uneasy, preferring to stay at a safe distance. She has to survey the field first and see if she will fit. Or if she will be accepted.

Only after some time does she muster the courage to approach the unknown. Slowly. Cautiously. Still needing time to warm up.

And then she makes the jump. And happily embraces the new territory, the new experience. But still a bit wary of the situation.

Take your time, my little one. No need to rush. We must all follow our own pace. And don't worry. We'll always be right behind you. No to push you but to be there to support you every step of the way.

Bela Takes the Throne

It's Bela's turn to start potty training. We've tried to potty train her for a couple of months now but so far we've not been successful. She can be adamant about things. If she doesn't want, she doesn't want. And at times she can be stubborn for the sake of being stubborn. Sutil, it's called in Tagalog. (Something Bela obviously got from her mother. Snicker, snicker. )

 It's also not easy when you have a kuya who constantly puts pressure on you. Gabi is a darling but sometimes -- oftentimes, actually -- he tends to pick on Bela. He teases her about still wearing diapers. He teases her about not knowing how to pronounce words properly. He teases her basically about being a baby.

And so how does Bela react? At times, she cries. At times, she strikes back. With her fists. And at other times, she shrugs her shoulders and walks away.

Last night she sat on the potty trainer all by herself. And even took with her a book to read. That's how it is with Bela. Pressure her and she won't budge. She does things in her own time. She does things not because kuya says so but because she wants. Even if she eventually ends up doing what kuya told her to do earlier.