How to raise emotionally intelligent kids

My daughter has been too moody lately.

Parenthood is so hard to navigate. She’s on her way to becoming a teen but I feel like being the eldest, we are already expecting a lot from her. I have always taught my kids to be independent at an early age. Eat on their own… get ready on their own with very little guidance… Do their work on their own… cope with disappointments on their own with just little support… But now i feel like I need to do more… My daughter is too emotional and her outbursts are sometimes too much. She feels too deprived, too constrained… she voices out that we do not give her enough, even with lots of her toys neglected and broken, strewn everywhere like trash… She says that she misses out on so much, even if we do more together than most families…

This is unfamiliar territory. But i blame myself mostly because I know I am not an emotionally intelligent person…

so if you know the answer to this subject, I am very open to suggestions.

Officially old

I am now forty exactly 3 months today. To be honest, 40 feels like 39. I don’t necessarily feel wiser, or that my life has just begun, but when I fill up forms, I am now part of the next option (x)40-50. That’s pretty much the major change.

But 40 has been fun! Since I turned (sounds like I became a vampire or something), I have been spending a lot of time keeping in touch with the old friends. I have noticed that I am spending less time with some of the friends I have made and gotten close with the past years… Whenever this happens, I always think of the words from the great JMC- the friends we know, we meet along the way, and soon the times we shared, are part of yesterday, coz life’s a constant change and nothing stays the same…

I have also tried started losing weight and finally did lose weight. But I gained some of the weight back because of Covid.

Yes I got Covid, but thankful that I got it after my vaccinations and booster shot. It felt like a really bad flu with really bad asthma. I can now literally imagine how it must have been for those who have not been vaccinated and got it last year… I thought of the so many friends, loved ones and acquaintances who did get it… the people we lost in 2020… I am still recovering with a cough but thankful that all the other flu symptoms are gone.

And lastly the latest development is that we are adulting real hard by getting our Dream house (70% dream house and 30% compromise because of budget) constructed! Money should not be an issue if you really want to have 100% of your dreamhouse made! However, we are totally making it an issue because number one- we do not want to be impractical and number 2- we only want to spend what we can afford. So we have to be meticulous and pragmatic about everything in this build. No extravagant wishlists! No crazy decisions! No getting swayed by upsellers! I do have some no compromise items in my dream house. So I am hoping the architect we decided to go with honors that. Going forward, I have thought Id share my experience in getting a house built in the Philippines, with us being in another country, so expect a lot of house updates in the coming weeks.

That sounds so mature!

Wow I rock being 40!

Failing as an adult- How I feel, and How I hope to feel

it is already midnight and I can’t sleep. I have my driving exam tomorrow and examinations always get me anxious. I have always had a fear of failure. Failing school exams, medical laboratory tests- eye tests (thankfully i still have a 20-20 vision), blood tests, job aptitude tests, or any thing that requires a test of some sort. If I could, I would avoid taking tests entirely. Just so my heart doesn’t break. Or I would not even try to get ready (except when I really love the subject), so that I can tell myself that I failed because I wasn’t ready. I think deep down, I really hated failing. And growing up, I never learned how to cope with the feelings of failure… of not being good enough for anything. Now as an adult, I do what I can do best- avoid. Avoid giving myself a chance at winning, or even being good at something… I will just let myself fail, because if I try, and I fail, it would hurt more. I guess it is a bit unhealthy- mentally… spiritually… emotionally…

I am almost 40 and I still can’t drive. But I have come to that phase in my family life that i would need to chauffer my kids around… I mean there are four of them, and they all have different activities, different friends… and taxis are so expensive now, though UBER has made life more convenient. The chubbhubb needs to work so I need to start driving… I mean I can drive now- after 30 something 45 minute lessons, at 1000 USD I better know how to drive! But I still can’t legally drive because I failed my road test. I know in my head that I can do it, but because it is a test, I feel like I know I am going to fail. But I know I shouldnt… but I did… do you get me? I know I deserve that license and I drive better than other people, but I feel like I will fail just because there is a test. It’s crazy, but it’s true. My anxiety is so bad, that I can’t sleep.

So tomorrow, I have my second chance to get my license. Another episode of sitting in the waiting room with metal chairs that freeze my butt along with other 100 women whose butts I bet are freezing too. Another chance to get anxious and make mistakes. Another chance to fail….

But what if I pass? What if I get my license tomorrow (or in a few hours)? Only God knows. I pray that I don’t make mistakes. that I will hear what the tester dude instructs me to do. That I will do perfectly what I already know to do. Without hesitation, without fear. That God would grant me the happiness of owning a legitimate driver’s license- the desires of my heart as of this moment. That I will be a legitimate adult! An adult that is licensed to drive an automatic vehicle!

I will try to rest now. In a few hours, I will once again take that test. And pass or fail, I pray that I will have the strength to cope… to not want to die… to live… to try again…

Baby countdown midnight rambling

I have started my countdown to welcoming baby number 3 a few weeks ago. By counting down, what I really mean is making a mental list, writing down all some of the stuff in my head, forgetting where i placed the said list and getting nothing done. There’s a lot of prepping I know I need to do and I am no where close to being the perfect girl scout.

Baby number 3 is going to be a challenge with two toddlers under the age of 4 and Marcus (my second born) is currently trying to reestablish his position as baby of the family. He wants to sleep with only mommy and wakes up in the middle of the night looking for mommy. I am at that stage in my pregnancy when I cannot sleep when I need to and I seem to pass out when I shouldn’t. I feel sorry for Aria and Marcus. Sometimes I pass out when they really really need me like when somebody needs to get a certain toy which is out of their reach. I would wake up cranky and finally give in turning the TV on so I could get at least 30 minutes of sleep- which I have to be honest sometimes turn into an hour of snoozing.

Aria is now out of school and enjoying her first summer vacation. She doesnt understand the concept of a summer break yet and constantly ask about going to see her teacher. I let her try to find ways to entertain herself and that usually includes making a mess of whatever she could get her hands on. My house has never been clean for more than an hour since time immemorial. And lately i cannot be bothered cleaning up because of this big watermelon attached to my front. I am the size of a truck now. Searching for/Picking up things under the bed or even on the floor has now been assigned to Aria and Marcus. It takes five years to get that done since they have only started understanding the concept of prepositions. I have not given up training them yet and before this baby number 3 comes out, I will make sure that these two will be masters of doing things for me involving fetching things ‘under’ and  ‘out of’ anything.

I guess I am still not prepared to be a mother of 3 kids. I was never prepared even during the first time when Aria was born. But I am getting by and I can only hope I do not ruin my kids with all my failures as a mom. So baby number 3, Bring it On!

Aria sleeping when we brought her home for the first time in our first apartment.

Sleeping baby boy Marcus

More than a year ago, my babies were still babies…

My babies now… Aria and Marcus are now ate and kuya.

Navigating our way to being fine…

When people ask me how my dad is doing, I am always overwhelmed on how I should answer. Most of the time I say he is physically well but mentally unwell. I don’t really want to elaborate on how ‘unwell’ he is. I don’t want people to feel sorry for him, to feel sorry for my family… to feel sorry for me… But I don’t want them to think that my dad is doing great so that they will forget him in their prayers. Because he is not okay. And he needs all the prayers he can get.

My father has Alzheimer’s. Some think that Alzheimer’s is a disease with a cure. But it does not have a known cure. And it can only get worse as each day comes. My dad is not even 60. But his mind is quickly degenerating. Every time I go to see him, I fear the day when he will stop remembering me. With my mother’s updates on his well being, I can feel that day is coming really soon…

I miss the times when I knew I could ask him anything and he would have a wise answer- when his advise would weigh so much on my decisions even as an adult. My dad has been a rock to me while I was growing up. Not just to me, but to a lot of people. And it’s difficult to imagine that that rock is slowly being weathered away by factors beyond our control. Factors that we can’t manipulate. Factors that we can only hope to be kind.

These days our conversations are limited to me telling him I love him and asking him how his day was. He would just say fine and bite on his towel. He has developed this uncontrollable knack to bite on a towel my mom gives him. Towel debris would be scattered all over the place where he sits. My mom would need to clean that up. Along with all of the other mess he can’t keep himself from making.

But even if I cannot get a normal conversation with my dad anymore, my kids love him. My kids love their lolo. They think he is funny. And when he shouts, they think its playful banter and they shout back. They would laugh together. They are not afraid. I wanted them to have that kind of relationship with their lolo. Something I missed because I was not close to mine. Something I hope they will remember once the moments and opportunities are gone.

My mother has been a champ through it all. Sometimes she tries too hard to be a champ. We don’t have house help and she takes care of my dad by herself. An alzheimer’s patient being taken care of by an almost 60 year old woman. When she shares her day, whether good or bad, and mostly bad, I am always speechless. I am helpless. How can I give comfort to my mom when my heart is breaking into a million pieces too? How can I tell her its going to be okay when I know it will only get worse? My younger brother has been the most diplomatic among us three siblings. He always has something to say. And God bless his heart that he does not fail to be comforting every time.

I cry during my nightly prayers as I pray for my dad and my mom. For a miracle. For his relief. For my mom’s strength and endurance and protection… And that’s the only time I find comfort. I won’t get it anywhere else. No where else.

“my hope is built on nothing less…

on Christ the Solid rock I stand,

All other ground is sinking sand.

All other ground is sinking sand…”