I had an email from MOO Cards‘ 25% Off Bi-annual Sale and, while I wasn’t that interested at first (the promo landed in my semi-spam folder) today, I scampered over my computer and used my relatively semi-good graphic skills to design my own cards because, you know, any girl boss has to have her card, and I don’t. At least not ones that I can proudly give out. My recent design is the current love of my life, and I’ve actually added two more in the bunch, because pink + gray is me: utterly soft and totally misinterpreted. I would also love to add classy, but well, the word that hits right is old.
Speaking of old, yesterday, a wonderful hashtag that is #flauntyourage was born on Twitter, where women from all over niches – some of them even debut authors – unabashedly boasted their age + experience to break the thought that youth = success. I inhaled every testimony. My thirty-three-years-old self is totally inspired.
My nephew from my cousin was born yesterday, and I’m so happy to say that his name is Caleb! We all have those two-out-of-twelves in our lives: people who stay and fight and give thanks instead of running away. Be a Caleb. I can only wish much courage and boldness and strength for this kid, because the world we now have is a world that is in deep, deep chaos.
“This is what your children will live in,” my parents told us on the way home as we drove along the street past Santa Monica, which is one of the most flooded areas in Hagonoy. I was looking outside my window, taking the scenes in, but at the back of my head, even though being a mom has always been my dream, I guess, I think, I can deprive myself of birthing a baby, though that would mean not fully utilizing my womanhood. The reason: it just gets worse. The world is bound to get worse. When he/she grows up, there will be less resources, more disasters, less truths, more temptations. It could be translated to: living would be suffering. I don’t want my little bear to suffer.
Besides, I don’t think I’d be a good mother; not even a good girlfriend. But I can be a good friend, but leave me in my space 75% of the time.
Yes, that’s very unfortunate.
But I could say I have been partly a mom, after looking after kids that I called anak, even though they weren’t my own, and had fun with them and bantered with them and did nice things for them so there, no regrets.
I wasn’t 100% selfish, after all.
Speaking of those kids, today, we got back to our regular routine, although it makes me grit my teeth that nothing is still happening in the Sunday School program I proposed. I’ve going to rant here, but I’ve invested an entire year, my money, my time, my heart, my hands and my entire self for kids that weren’t even my family, and those who were their family wasn’t completely into the idea of creating something nice for them!
This afternoon, my mom reminded my dad, and somehow, me, to assert. My mom carries that big queen energy. She’s the woman who has never been unfazed, except when she’s playing a game with a timer, or forgetting what she’s been cooking in the stove. Seriously. I love you, ma.
HELLOCARIS.COM will be online for another year. I don’t know when would be the time that I will stop blogging; I’m sure there will be, but what circumstance leads to it, I’m excited to find out. I don’t know if it’s good or bad (like, you know, breaking my hand or whatever), but life-changing things make us grow the best. And I want to grow while I’m alive. x