Personally Offended

By Regina Abuyuan

 

Out of sheer frustration, I ranted about a certain celebrity in my Facebook account. When I posted it Friday night, it got 14 likes in one hour. Now, it’s got 51 likes. The fervor has slowed down, but it looks like it’s not stopping.

So what is it that’s gotten people so involved—maybe a better word would be “embroiled”—in my personal opinions? My opinion about Kris Aquino, that’s what, and her most recent quotable quote about being a single mom: “Madali maging single mother, kasi mababait ang mga anak ko.” [“It’s easy being a single mother, because my children are good.”]

Google it and you’ll see.

I don’t even have to go into details on why this statement offends so many.

She makes light of the most difficult “job” in the universe, glossing it over with her image of being a doting, hardworking mom with a healthy work-life balance. No one—not even married or partnered moms and dads, no matter how wealthy and successful they are—can claim parenting is easy. Up to a certain point, you’re in charge of shaping a person’s life, making sure he or she doesn’t turn into a serial killer or something. And her reason? Because her kids are “nice”? That’s like saying parenting is easy because one’s kids are thoughtless, emotion-less lumps of cake who don’t need attention and understanding and discipline.

She seems to have forgotten that her mother, Cory Aquino, was a single parent. I wonder what Tita Cory would have said if she heard her youngest say that. I can just imagine her hanging her head in disappointment, shaking it side to side, and sighing: “Hay, Kris. Where did Ninoy and I go wrong with you?”

 

Morning Person

By Regina Abuyuan

 

I usually dread the mornings. I hate the feeling of drowsiness, not being able to think right because you’re just too goddamn sleepy. When I’m sleepy, I turn grouchy and uncoordinated; an ill-tempered puppet.

But it’s school time again, and while my partner D has taken the initiative to make the kids’ breakfasts and drive them to school every morning, I sometimes feel guilty that he has to do all the dirty morning work…so I gather up all my willpower to drag myself out of bed and join him and the family for “breakfast.”

We have no stay-in help, so breakfast is a no-fuss affair. No table settings, no side dishes of atchara or elaborately sliced fruit. This particular morning, it’s ham sandwiches, all piled up on a single plate. Baon is packed the night before (that I do). Sounds efficient, yes? Like everything would go by without a hitch? Not really. Either one of the twins has a hard time waking up, gets absentminded while eating his sandwich and loses it to our new Labrador puppy. Another forgets to turn off the faucet after brushing his teeth. Then the other wears his shirt the wrong way. Their older sister is getting grumpy; she’ll be late if the twins carry on like this. Eventually, it’s over. Schoolbags are piled on little shoulders. Kisses are exchanged. They’re in the car and off to school.

I sit alone at the dining table. Crumbs litter the surface; little bits of wheat bread and egg are scattered on the floor, and already I can imagine the ants’ antennae perk up, a contingent of soldier arms ready to pick up the morsels. I pick up their leftovers, put them in my mouth and chew slowly.

Amidst the mess, the whole house is quiet. Cool, not-yet-so-bright, and silent. I’m alone. For the first time in almost a week, I feel I can breathe.

At that moment, I feel like a different person. I feel no tension and anxiety, and a thought crosses: I love mornings.

Let’s see how long that’ll last.

True to You

By Regina Abuyuan

 

Even as kids, she was clearly the artist among us, even as her sister was equally talented in music, even when I, too, wrote poems and stories and wasn’t so shabby with the paints and charcoals. She seemed to move in a world of her own, unaware of her own beauty and power. Weird? Of course she was weird. But she was also kind and sincere and naïve and all those other things that tend to get one into the saddest kinds of trouble.

I’m talking of my cousin, C, who now goes by another name; the name that now graces her album cover: Kulay by Tricia Garcia. She’s even got a spankin’ new music video of her first single, “Tabing Ilog.” Watch it here.

Tricia is almost my age—way past the prime of other musicians who get their big break while they’re in their 20s, or earlier. It’s not that she didn’t start early enough–for a time she was the lead vocalist of Pretty In Pink, that bubblegum pop group that came up with “Cool Ka Lang” in the early ‘90s. It was that she was held back.

Now, I’m going to stop right here lest I get anyone into trouble, but I will say that one of the most tragic things that can happen to an artist, or one full of God-given talents, is to be held back and suppressed. It doesn’t matter if the suppression was done “for your own good.” It’s like murder to deprive someone of their fullest potential—and to deprive others of experiencing that gift.

For several years, Tricia had to bury her love of song and art to please other people, to fit into their expectations of what she should be and how she should behave. She would have to hide her easels in the closet. She would have to hide who she was, period. It ate into her soul. Whenever we saw each other, I would see that the light had dimmed ever so imperceptibly in her eyes. She would try to justify it, saying it was for the better, but I—wild Water Rat that I am, who would rather die than be caged—would see she was only trying to convince herself.

And then, one day, the unthinkable happened. Tricia broke free.

She confessed to me her biggest fear two Christmases ago, that she might not be able to make it on her own, now that she was past youth, now that she had to start from scratch. What would people say? How would they react?

My reply (which is undoubtedly how the rest of the superwomen on this blog would reply, too): Don’t think of what other people will say. Just forge on. Do what you love. Do what you do best. Their words mean nothing. Your happiness means everything!

Something amazing happens when someone is set free and made to, finally, bask in his true purpose. It’s like the universe comes together, calls upon all its mighty gears and wheels, and everything locks into place. Mere months after Tricia let go, she inked a deal with MCA Universal. Less than a year later, she started recording her album. Around six weeks ago, her album was launched. Last week, this video was released.

When my daughter—or my sons, for that matter—get married, or have their first sweethearts, I’d like to direct them to this lesson learned from their Auntie Tricia: Stay true to yourself. Don’t let anyone tell you who or how you should be. Don’t allow your dreams to die. And if you’ve really got some gold inside you, it will shine, even if it’s been kept in darkness for years.

 

 

Super Working Mother

By Gina Abuyuan

 

I recently did a story on Emerson Yao, managing director of the Lucerne Group. Of the third generation of a family of watch retailers, the transformation of the family business is credited to him and his brother Ivan. Now, Lucerne is more than just a retailer. It deals directly with over 50 watch houses, is known for its high profile tie-ups featuring the Philippines as a brand, and strong recall events.

Emerson and Ivan didn’t have a mentor. Their father passed away early. “I was just out of college. There was only one store at that time—my grandfather started it all. My dad was a very simple man. He just had one or two watches. I remember him only wearing one. When he passed away, he left us the store, and that’s it.

“But he taught us a lot of other stuff. Being thrifty, being nice to people, humility, and all that—those are the cornerstone of our success. My father worked seven days a week, 365 days a year. Every day he was in the shop. So when he passed away, that was the only way we knew how to run our business. So we followed him. Looking back, if not because of that kind of a mindset, we couldn’t get to where we are today.”

I was thinking the same thing just a few days ago: If it weren’t for my mom, I would probably be a half-assed, irresponsible good-for-nothing. Don’t get me wrong—there was indeed a stage of my life when I indeed did nothing but party, but being my mom’s daughter made sure I rose beyond and above that.

As early as I can remember, my mom, Lirio T. Abuyuan, was a worker. She was continuously striving to improve her career and her options. When we were young, she packed us all up and moved us all (including my dad) to Wisconsin, where she pursued a PhD. When my dad had to come back to the Philippines, she became a de facto single mom—and having been one as well, I can say she did a pretty good job.

When we came back to the Philippines, I remember her leaving every morning, looking smart in her tailored suits, pumps, and briefcase. I used to love running my hands up and down her stockinged legs, and told myself that someday, I’d have my chance to wear nice nylon stockings too.

She worked long hours but made sure she had time to tutor me and my sister, and eventually, my brother. She threw mean parties at home for her colleagues (she still does, occasionally, for family, and the spreads are always unique and memorable). While holding a relatively high position in government (Assistant Secretary of DENR), she outspokenly turned downed and showed her disgust at people who tried to bribe her. Boy, did she earn a lot of enemies for that—to retaliate, they spread nasty rumors about her, but she stood her ground. When I grew old enough to wear makeup and attend parties and balls, I didn’t have to bother to go to the salon—she would do my hair and makeup herself, and she did it so well that all my friends said she should have opened a salon.

Sure, my mom and I have been at loggerheads too many times than I care to count or recall. But that’s what happens when two strong women clash—and where did I get that strength? From her. That’s also what happens when a mother allows her daughter to think critically and argue her point. (As a mom, I’m learning this freedom is a double-edged sword when it comes to raising kids, but hey, I’d rather have them know how to make a case than just roll over and take it.)

Like Emerson Yao, I don’t know how else I would have gone about doing what I do, working the way I do, if I hadn’t seen my mom build her career and juggle being a mother, wife, and homemaker. People have asked me how I can have the energy to do so many things at the same time. I usually answer with a shrug. A few days ago, and as I write this, I have a concrete answer: because I saw my mom do it.

She’s still the champion, of course. I don’t even come close, considering my age. Aside from still working on projects for the private sector, she goes to the gym, goes ballroom dancing, has time for her derma, travel, takes her grandkids out, and is now developing her own brand of longganisa. Mental, I tell you. Absolutely mental.

 

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mother’s day article

No to WAHM Burnout!

By Gina Abuyuan

 

I’m a WAHM—a Work At Home Mom. Aside from the assignments I work on at home, most of my time nowadays has been taken up by a book project, for which I go to my client’s home and we pore over her manuscript there.

I’m about to go crazy.

Understandably, I got a wonderful rush yesterday when I went out to my first meeting not situated in a structure with a sala, a kitchen, a bedroom, and a maid to call on when you need water. Finally! An environment with strangers! With food you had to pay for! And me actually caring for how I looked like!

Working from home does have its upsides—obviously, you get to spend more time with your kids and work without having to commute or dress up. On the other hand, it can be stressful, especially when homework needs coincide with deadlines, or clients are a-calling while the kids are causing a ruckus. It also keeps you more than a tad isolated from the outside world and other adults. So much so that a visit to the mall may seem like the most exciting thing to happen all week, and coffee with other grown-ups is something you want to last forever. A burnout isn’t far away if a WAHM doesn’t take care of herself.

How to prevent it? Some tips:

* Set a schedule, just like you would do if you were working in an office. Before or beyond 9 a.m. and 7 p.m., for example, is time for family. Working at home is for naught if you don’t get to enjoy what WAHMs have over regular working moms: getting more time with the kids. During your “off” hours, allow yourself to play. If needed, you can resume your work after the kids are asleep.

* Designate an errand day. Spend one day a week to get everything done outside your home; stuff like paying bills or going on a bank run, doing groceries, going to the dry cleaners or having clothes altered…you’ll get things done while at the same time, preventing cabin fever!

* Designate a “no kids zone” in your home. In my case I had to build a separate room in our garage. As expected, the kids don’t strictly follow the rule and we end up “working” side by side. My partner and I decided it would be better if we rent a studio nearby to serve as our office. The kids haven’t even been there yet, haha.

* Don’t forget downtime with your spouse or partner. After playtime with kids, you and your partner deserve time together. Step out on a date or snuggle up while watching a movie. Lock the door.

* Have lunch with a girlfriend. WAHMs, SAHMs (stay-at-home moms), and regular working moms—it doesn’t matter. We’re all busy in our own ways, but need time to connect and talk about…well, what women talk about. Make an effort to stay in touch with your friends.

* Get some exercise. In between Skype meetings, go for a walk, a run, a swim. Do some yoga. Me, I hop on a stepper and lift free weights while taking a break. Exercise is a great de-stressor.

* Pay attention to your looks and pamper yourself. Looking lousy will make you feel lousy as well. Being able to close deals while you’re in your pajamas may be a perk, yes, but don’t get too used to it. Don’t forget to groom your brows, get the occasional mani-pedi, hair treatment. Stay fab!

 

The High Road

By Gina Abuyuan

Many people find it strange—nay, downright unbelievable—that my ex-husband and I are on good terms. As I wrote in one of my old magazines, it’s almost impossible to salvage positive feelings about a person who has caused you unimaginable pain.

For a time, even my fiancé, believing that it would be in my best interest, thought I should cut off all ties with my ex-husband.

It’s impossible, of course, considering we have twin boys between us, and I’d like him to be a part of the twins’ lives and vice versa. Besides, there’s the practical stuff like tuition fees, medical expenses, and extra-curricular activities to discuss—so wouldn’t things be easier if everyone just got along nicely?

I quote Brooke Burke of ModernMom.com when she talks of her own relationship with her ex: “We decided to take the high road for the kids.”

Two years ago, I coined a term for this sort of relationship: “co-parenting.” Does everyone believe in this? No. Is it for everyone? No. But if you’d like to try and make things easier for you, your ex-spouse, and your kids, here are three jump off points:

Get third party help. Both of you should see a psychologist, therapist, counselor, or join a self-development workshop or seminar (don’t get addicted, though, or else the seminars will drive your life, and leave you dependent and disempowered). I recommend Bicbic Medez of the RCW Foundation (which also has short courses on re-grouping and getting clear on where you want to take your life). Call (2) 436-0710 or 426-6832or visit www.rcwfi.org for more details. Maribel Dionisio of The Love Institute (loveinstitute.multiply.com) can also help. As the organization’s name connotes, it helps couples and families heal, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’ll try to get you and your ex back together. Just be honest and open about what kind of relationship you’d like to re-create.

Take charge of the transformation. The real change has to come from within you. My ex-husband and I had countless fights and misunderstandings before achieving this sense of harmony and peace. Those blow-ups began because we felt the other was over-stepping boundaries, assuming the worst of the other, and thinking the one “should’ve known” or “should’ve known better.” Remember, the issues you’re supposed to be focusing on now aren’t about the two of you: they’re about your kids. Let me be extreme about it: Talk like you’re talking business, but learn to negotiate nicely. Get sticky issues like expenses, schooling, schedules/holidays out of the way. But learn to be flexible too.

Agree on the non-negotiables. Here are some things you can let slide: what foods they’ll eat, what they wear, what sports they take up. Here are some of the things my ex-husband and I will not budge on: a holistic, exceptional education and life experiences, their freedom to explore their spirituality later on, addressing immediately any circumstance or individual that hurts them (e.g., on two occasions, I let go of two drivers, on the spot, within minutes of learning they made my kids cry—the first, by driving too fast and the second, by cracking a cruel joke. I didn’t even allow them back in the house or subdivision to pack up their things). Harsh? Maybe. But we want to reassure them that though Mommy and Tatay are no longer married, we’re still part of the same team when it comes to them.