Quick Update

Still no time to do a lengthy post. For now, I just want to share the song my husband sings to our son. I get teary eyed when I see my two guys sitting together, H crooning softly to A.

 

 

I'm enjoying where we are now (most days), but part of me wants to fast forward to the day I can hear A say, "I love you too."

There have been good days (A so behaved, not even a peep as I change his nappy) and bad days (eight--yes, eight--hours of nearly nonstop crying), and on bad days H sometimes has to deal with his two babies crying. Still, I am very grateful for our Grumpy Bear--and for my husband who's been a stellar dad and a true partner.

Happy Birthday to Me

While it would have been cool to share a birthday with little monster, he had other plans.

Went to see the doc, and it seems this one is quite comfortable in there, thank you very much. I'm taking something that will help hurry things along plus I have to walk two hours a day (!), but if that doesn't work out, we'll have to induce labor.

After our checkup, H and I had a lovely birthday dinner at one of my new favorite restaurants. The past week, I had been so impatient, wanting to get this pregnancy over with already. But the reality of childbirth hit me again, and now I'm perfectly content just waiting--he'll come out when he's good and ready. So I just enjoyed my nice, quiet birthday, the last one that I had my husband all to myself.

I really, really love this man. Even the quietest, simplest birthday is made truly happy as long as I get to spend it with him.

Kiss #9: Surigao

This is what my first Groupon purchase got me:

A spacious villa...

We stayed here

...with a view that can't be beat...

An encounter with a jellyfish...

Jellyfish Lagoon

Some exercise...

Sohoton Cave

And the chance to jump off a cliff again...

The most awesome deck, where we ate breakfast and read...

...sat and soaked up our breathtaking surroundings...

...and just enjoyed talking from sunset til late in the evening, wine in hand, watching fireflies and stars come out...

Our ninth kiss--our first time in Mindanao together. But more than that, it marks a time when I was truly happy and at peace.

My Sketching Skills Are a Little Rusty...

Today, Hamil's seven-year-old nephew and I both drew a dragon. My husband found it absolutely hilarious that he couldn't tell between my drawing and that of a first-grader.

Can you? Take a wild guess!

How Safe Are You?

Nearly a year ago, my bag was stolen when a thief broke into our car by smashing a window. A few years before that, my husband's laptop was stolen when a thief broke into the SUV he was driving that day. It's scary but true: Smash-and-grab incidents aren't all that uncommon.

This is one of the main reasons why my husband brought in Hanita Security Tint. Made in Israel, the tint makes glass less vulnerable to break-ins, vandalism, and shattered glass from flying objects/natural disasters (Ondoy wreaked havoc on many an establishment with glass windows, doors, or walls). A pretty cool demonstration:

The product is pretty close to our hearts since we've been victims of theft. And, truth be told, I feel somewhat naked now when I know our car doesn't have security tint! The windows are sometimes bare after my husband conducts a round of tests.

One of the things I love most about my husband is that he's incredibly driven. Once he has his mind set on something, he wastes no time in trying to make it happen. (Meanwhile, his wife is incredibly risk-averse!) He has a fiery entrepreneurial spirit, and this is his latest venture. It would be so great if you could support it!:) The shop/office is at the South Parking Area of Metrowalk. You might want to have security tint installed on your vehicle (or office or home). To learn more about the line of products, visit the Hanita Philippines website, and do Like their Facebook page while you're at it. And please spread the word, especially to your car afficionado friends! I'd greatly appreciate it if you could repost the video on your blogs.:)

My Week as a Single Girl

Day 3. Photo c/o Ms. Marlu. Still waiting for our photo with Wash SyCip. That's me with two-toned hair. Ack. My maxi dress from Tango.

While ze huzband went off to Bangkok, Zurich, and Israel, little ol' me was left behind. Sigh. What was I to do for a week without my better half? Why, move back into Mumsy's casa, of course!

"It's like I'm on vacation!" I texted Hamil, after seeing all the Doritos, Ruffles, Cheetos, and Lay's, the French Onion dip, and fridge full of low-fat milk and Chocolait. My mom kept asking me what I would like to eat. Champorado for breakfast? Check. Longganisa Lucban? Done. Meals that I don't have to cook and dishes I don't have to wash? Score!

Being sort-of single did make me realize one thing: Outside of disc parties, I don't really go out at night anymore. Partly because I'm not inclined to (I get sleepy by 11 pm) and partly because, well, my single friends don't bother to ask me anymore. Eh. Such is life. So my week was filled with more laid-back pursuits.

Day 1. Despedida dinner for Good Housekeeping's former managing editor, Kat. The baroness, as some people call her, is going abroad to study. She made my life so much easier and so I'm really sad to see her go. But I'm happy that she has this rockin' opportunity.
Highlight: Finally trying Galileo Enoteca after years of meaning to.

Day 2. A leisurely 5K run after a running hiatus.
Highlight: I'm so out of shape, but was glad I pushed myself to do it, at an oval no less.

Day 3. Hung out with old colleagues and good friends at the SGV Alumni Homecoming, Makati Shangri-La.
Highlight: Having a picture taken with maester Wash SyCip (who was wearing jeans!).

Day 4. I finally got my stolen (and expired) driver's license replaced! Woohoo! Plus, quality time with mom. Dinner at one of my fave restos was kind of disappointing (why did I order something I hadn't ordered before?), but we made up for it by hanging out with the kiddies for a bit (fun) before getting massages (ahh).
Highlight: Weighing in for my driver's license and finding out I'd lost about three pounds.
Lowlight: That's three pounds out of 15 I gained since I got married. Le sigh.

Day 5. Got into a minor car accident. And no, I was not driving! My mom's driver was. And anyway, it was the other guy's fault, a kid of about 19 who admitted that he "just spaced out." I was so late for training because we had to file a police report and all that.
Highlight: I still made it to training. And we ate at Army Navy afterwards.
Lowlight: Dude who hit our car asked to use my phone because he was low batt. I kid you not. I kinda felt sorry for the guy.

Day 6. Family lunch at Mom and Dad's.
Highlight: Inihaw na baboy, sinigang. Burp.
Lowlight: Not having a ticket to see my boy DRose. Sob.

Day 7. That's today! When I said goodbye to Mom, she said, "Come back soon!" Aww.
Highlight: Jetlagged husband sleeping peacefully beside me as I type.

Goodnight, everyone.:)

Kiss #8: At the Finish Line

Adrenalin and pride--possibly the only things that kept us going!

It was dark as the crowd gathered at the starting line on Ayala Avenue for the Condura half marathon. We were a group of five: me, my husband, our 50-year-old ninong, and two of Hamil's friends. I was the only girl. About an hour before, Hamil and I had already slathered petroleum jelly onto our feet and arms (to know why, read this) and eaten bananas. We did a slow warm-up jog before taking our places amid the crowd that turned up for the 21-kilometer run. When the clock hit 4:30 am, wave after wave started running every 30 seconds. Our turn came up, and bodies--mostly tight, impossibly fit bodies that trained much more than I did (a measly six runs in the three weeks before the 21K)--surged ahead of us. (Legolas: "They run as if the very whips of their masters were behind them!")

Two of our friends went ahead of us, while Hamil and I kept pace with our ninong. We turned left onto Rufino and soon, we hit the Skyway. I picked up speed, as I am wont to do while running uphill, for the simple reason that I like getting it over with as soon as possible! I silently thanked our neighborhood with its steep inclines, as well as White Plains with its hilly streets, for somewhat preparing me for this.

Our tactic was to run five kilometers, then walk to recover and munch on some chocolate to keep us going, before running five kilometers again. I kept running ahead and stopping to wait for Hamil, who was making sure that our ninong kept a good pace, enough to meet the three-and-a-half-hour cutoff. My husband kept telling me to go ahead, but I stubbornly insisted on waiting for them.

We ran all the way to Bicutan then made a U-turn back onto the Skyway. By the tenth kilometer, Hamil checked the time, and I started to get worried. I realized that adjusting to someone else's pace was killing my momentum, and I feared that I wouldn't be able to finish. With a somewhat heavy heart, I ran ahead. I didn't want to leave Hamil, but I also didn't want to sputter at some point and give up. Big realization: I run better alone.

The sun had risen by the time I was running to Buendia. I tried listening to some music, but my earphones kept slipping off, so I just kept going in silence. I was excitedly looking for markers saying how far I had run: 14km, 15km, 16km... By the 18th, I told myself I wasn't going to stop running until I reached the finish line. But my body was kind of giving out, and I had to walk for a few seconds every now and then. Once I got on the flyover leading to the Fort, I ran past the people who were walking up the incline. When the flyover flattened, I walked for a bit before picking up speed on the way down.

When I started the race, I had it in my head to finish strong. I wasn't going to run 20 kilometers then just walk it the last kilometer. I was going to run, dammit. I was going to run faster than I had the previous miles. When I rounded a corner, I spotted the finish line and I almost cried. I teared up, knowing that this was the farthest, the longest I had ever run. I sprinted the last 100 meters--at least, as much as I could sprint given legs that already felt like lead.

I crossed the finish line and felt an overwhelming sense of relief. My time was utterly unimpressive, but I was just glad that I did it. Despite the lack of training, despite my hate-hate relationship with running, I did it. Minutes later, my husband came with our ninong.

I was quite proud of myself for running 21 kilometers, something I never would have imagined myself doing, er, a month ago! I was most surprised that I stayed focused throughout the run. I half-expected that my mind would give up at some point, the way it kind of did during our 15K. But on that morning, I felt absolutely no desire to stop. But I'm even more proud of my husband for his unbelievable patience and restraint. He could have run that thing in less than two and a half hours, but he wanted to make sure that our running buddy was OK. That takes even greater strength.

I'm probably never going to run a half marathon again. I honestly thought that this would be my longest run ever, but now I'm considering trying a full marathon. Some day. Not just yet. I'll need much more than three weeks' training for that!

Training Day

So this is what running 15K feels like...

I used to abhor running. Back in college, the warmup before dance practice was sometimes a one-mile run. I could get through it pretty quickly (eight minutes, to be exact), but it was torture. I would bitch through those eight minutes and think about how I would much rather be learning a new routine. Cheerdancer training was no different. We sometimes had to run about half an hour, all around the Ateneo campus, and it was my absolute least favorite part of training.

When I started working, I didn't have regular dance training anymore, so I had to resort to other forms of exercise. Running became one of them. I would push myself to do interval training (increased my speed and endurance) and 5K runs on the treadmill (personal best: around 29 minutes. Obviously, it involved some walking!). For a time, I kind of enjoyed it, especially after a rough day. Running in Ateneo on cool evenings also helped me clear my head when I was feeling particularly overwhelmed.

Last year marked the first time I ran about 11K. It took a while, but I did it. I would've been so proud of myself if only my husband hadn't kept on running for 10 more kilometers (for no apparent reason other than he can), leaving me--and my personal record--behind in the dust.

Up until a couple of weeks ago, I had no desire to join fun runs. And then my husband signed me up for a half marathon. That's 21 frickin' kilometers. Our phone conversation:

Hamil: Ano, register na kita? (Should I register for you?)
Tisha: Ummm... Magkano ba yan? (How much?)
Hamil: P1,300.
Tisha: MAGBABAYAD AKO NG P1,300 PARA LANG MAPAGOD?! (I'm paying P1,300 just to get tired?!)

After much thought, and despite being in the worst shape in recent years (I hardly had any exercise in November and December, and I had the holiday fat to show for it), I relented. I figured that this was the first and last time I would ever run that long. And I figured I had one of my 100 kisses waiting for me at the finish line.

Hamil outlined a training program which I haven't been able to follow. The weather was uncooperative last week so I wasn't able to get in the miles I wanted to get in. I did, however, have the best possible trainer for my first 5K run of the year--Marie, one of my really good friends, who just happens to be the editor in chief of Runner's World! She's run the New York Marathon twice and an ultra marathon (that's over 100 kilometers!) so I'd say she's a bit of an expert in this area. She gave me some helpful tips and, more importantly, distracted me from the boredom that inevitably accompanies seemingly endless rounds at the Ultra oval.

Last night, as per Hamil's training schedule, we had to run 15 kilometers. All my old feelings about running resurfaced. (See first paragraph.) By the seventh kilometer, I was already bitching about the pain in my stomach, my knee, my ankle. I wasn't the most pleasant person in the world to run with, but my husband stayed positive, cheering me on and waiting for me. I knew that he was kind of holding back, that he was raring to run ahead. But he stayed with me. He wanted to practice running with me because he doesn't want to leave me when we finally run the 21K, personal record be damned. More than anything, that's what's going to push me to the finish line.

Wish me luck.

Image from here.

Happy Birthday, Hubby!

It was a bit of a quiet birthday for Hamil, and a relatively healthy one too. While last year, we feasted on steak at 22 Prime, this year he wanted something lighter. The night before his birthday, we decided to eat at Kai, a Japanese restaurant in Greenbelt 5. (Years ago, the resto was at Greenbelt 2, and there, Hamil had his fill of sake.) The meal was predominantly made up of raw fish; while there was some wagyu thrown in, it was mixed with tofu and asparagus.

The day of, we stayed home and I cooked. Nothing spectacular. He just asked for my fake Conti's salmon, and I also whipped up cream of spinach soup (there was some leftover spinach) and a roasted vegetable salad with portobello mushrooms. Then, because he didn't want his usual favorite ube cake (which would languish in the ref, given that there's just two of us), I surprised him with a birthday mamon. Ube, of course.

We had long conversations over the weekend, and at some point, talk turned to religion. We are both practicing Catholics in that we go to mass every Sunday and say our prayers. But we both have a lot of questions, and constantly talk about our faith and other faiths. This particular talk touched on reincarnation, life's purpose, and the possibility of a passive god.

This last concept was a bit hard for me to grasp. If ours is a passive god, then what is the purpose of prayer? There would be no one to thank, no one to guide us and give us strength. And what I find most hard to believe: A passive god would mean that I merely stumbled upon the most wonderful man by sheer dumb luck or by virtue of my effervescent charm (both of which I do not possess in abundance). No, a passive god, He is not. For me to find the best man, for me to be indescribably happy, there must be a Stronger Force at work. And as Hamil blew out his little candle, I thanked that god for the day my husband was born.

Kiss #7: 10 Years with the Love of My Life

2000...

Hanging out in Ateneo, where it all began

2001... I used to have a photo in my wallet, of me and Hamil after Game 3 of the UAAP finals--the year Ateneo made it back into the finals after sooo long. I was in my cheering outfit, Hamil in his work clothes. It was the last time I cheered in front of a filled-to-the-rafters Araneta Coliseum. Unfortunately, I think that photo was in the wallet that was stolen some weeks ago.:( And this was pre-digital age, so no back-up. Unless I can find the contact prints. Sigh.

2002...the year I graduated from college. Photos in my old house!

2003...

My Print Screen wasn't working so I took a photo of this collage from...Friendster! Har. (Clockwise from bottom left) In Paradiso, Bataan (the cheerdancers' private getaway c/o Nikki!); in the infinity pool at Punta Fuego; after a 20s-inspired party

2004...

Hamil and a non-tan Tishie Tishie in Galera

2005...

The year Hamil finished his masters. My graduation gift to him: a trip to Boracay. (Other pics at my old house)

2006...

Bohol

2007

With my number one fan, the year I first started playing competitive disc

2008...

The night we got engaged

2009...

The day we officially became husband and wife

2010...

Back where it began: Ateneo

Ten years ago this month, a college senior professed his love for a college junior through a good old-fashioned harana. With the rest of his all-male org, boy sang "The Promise"--and it was the start of, well, forever. Nearly nine years later, girl walked down the aisle to that very song, and a video of the actual harana was played at the reception.

Today, girl thanks her lucky stars, fate, God--all that conspired to bring her the best Christmas gift ever.

To my husband, my soul mate, my best friend, my everything, I love you.

Kiss #6: Bungee Jumping!

"It's so scary!" the girl on the ledge kept telling us in this apologetic tone, probably worried that we were getting impatient for our turn. We kept reassuring her that it was OK--who were we to judge? For all we knew, we would panic when our moment came to exhibit that we were at least one part crazy.

We were at AJ Hackett in Kuta, Bali, standing on a platform, awaiting our turn to jump. When we were figuring out our honeymoon itinerary, we were dead-set on making a tandem bungee jump a part of our trip. It was $185 for a few adrenalin-pumping seconds, but what the heck!

While we were waiting to get strapped onto the bungee cords, Hamil and I discussed our tactic: No hesitation. Just do it. "The longer you wait, the harder it's gonna be," he reasoned.

So after the girl jumped, we made our way to the prep area, where they double checked our weight--we had to step on a scale before heading up to the ledge, and our weights were written in bold black marker on the backs of our hands. "It's like adding insult to...to..." I began, when I was recounting the experience to a friend. "To possible injury?" he offered. Yeah, it wasn't enough that we were risking peeing in our pants while jumping off a platform 45 meters from the ground, but I also had to be reminded that I'd gained six kilos since being a cheerleader! Sigh.

We sat on the mat, where the crew proceeded to wrap our ankles in folded towels, and strap on the harnesses and bungee cords. They explained that one arm should go behind the partner's back, holding tightly onto the harness on his or her side. The other arm was free--to flail, hug, or do a fist pump while we plummeted.

As we inched our way to the ledge, Hamil let out a swear word. And if my heart was pounding even before we went up the tower, now it was pounding so hard that I didn't even hear the music blaring over the loudspeaker. We heard the crew do the countdown:

"Five..."

"Four..."

"Three..."

"Two..."

"One!"

Make your own animation

AAAAAHHH!!!

That was INSANE!

The plan was for me and Hamil to kiss on our way down, but if you look at that photo, we're kissing while we're on the ledge. The minute we step into nothingness, I've still got my lips puckered, but Hamil has started screaming! (He only screamed once; I, on the other hand, screamed at every drop, recoil, and subsequent drop!)

Money shot

I can't describe the fear that grips your heart once you feel gravity's awesome power, and see the ground and water below rushing at you in a second. Thank goodness I peed beforehand. (OK TMI, but you seriously should go to the bathroom before you attempt this!)

Once it was all over, we lay on a mattress as the straps were being removed. Only then did I notice that I was still gripping tightly onto Hamil's waist harness. And only then did I realize that a very appropriate song was playing in the background: Aerosmith's "Crazy"!

In the words of Git Fresh, I think I need a cigarette. And I don't even smoke.

For our efforts, we got a shirt, a certificate...

It's a Certificate of Borderline Insanity. Seriously, that's what it says!

...and a kiss that's one for the books!

Bali High: Tishie and Hamil's Travelogue

My bikini from Cocomo, hat from Kultura Filipino

Day 1

We arrived late afternoon then checked into Bonsai Villas before having dinner at the popular Made's Warung II (more on that in a future post).

After polishing off our first Balinese meal. Burp.

Our version of a nightcap: a massage at Chill Reflexology (Jl. Kunti, Seminyak), as recommended by our trusty travel guide. We signed up for the Chill Out massage (a full-body massage, clothes on) and were surprised when two male massage therapists came out. Travel guide failed to mention this crucial point. Suffice it to say that Hamil wasn't entirely relaxed.

Day 2
Went on a 30-minute walk to Seminyak Beach, where Hamil met surf instructor Andy.

The two-hour, one-on-one session cost about $20 (versus the more known schools' $45). My cam-whoring session while relaxing by the beach? Free.

(P.S. If you haven't heard why I don't surf, you could dig up an old issue of Reader's Digest that published the whole story. It was called "Surf's Up," alternately titled "The Day I Wore a Too-Tight Purple Wetsuit, Paddled Myself to Near-Death, Tried to Surf in Freezing California Waters, and Slipped and Landed on My Chin.")

After Hamil's surf session, we walked around the neighborhood and ate before heading "home" to chill at the pool, which we had all to ourselves!

Thank goodness for self-timers.

Then we got all dressed up for an evening at Ku De Ta (more in a future post).

Every travel guide I read and a number of previous Bali visitors we talked to recommended this crazy expensive swanky place. Either the place is a favorite of expats, or was just filled with people who read the same travel guides. Still, it was nice being able to experience a night at this Bali gimik institution. (My credit card might have something to say about it though...)

Day 3
Cendana Resort & Spa sent over a car to pick us up from Bonsai. Trip cost us $30--about half what we spent on our room!

After depositing our stuff in our room, we walked to the nearby Sacred Monkey Forest, where Hamil made a new friend.

(Top) I absolutely love this shot! (Above) Monkey's thought bubble: "What the--?"

We then headed to Ubud Palace, home of the local royal family, and tried to blend into a tour group. The guide, however, was speaking in Japanese. So we just took a quick look around. Apparently, palaces in Bali are nowhere near in size to the ones elsewhere around Asia.

After dinner at a cheap little eatery called Song's Kitchen, we headed to Bumi Bali Spa (slash Restaurant slash Cooking School) for another massage.

Day 4
We decided to hire a car for 10 hours. For $50, we got a car (petrol included), an extremely talkative driver, and a nice tour guide named Yoga. No hidden charges! That's a pretty fair price, I think, considering we covered a lot of ground that day. We started off by going to Gunung Kawi in Tampaksiring, which is about an hour north of Ubud, if I'm not mistaken.

Can you tell my husband's not too thrilled about wearing a sarong (a requirement)?

These carvings, cut from solid rock, were quite a sight to see. But there's something the travel guides don't tell you. At this hallowed site, you have this to contend with:

Repeat 30 times. I kid you not.

On our way back to Ubud, we stopped by some rice terraces to ooh and ahh and take a couple of photos.

Back in Ubud, we had lunch at a warung to sample some babi guling (suckling pig--more in a future food post). Then we checked out of Cendana, headed back to Seminyak, and checked into our dreamy villa at Uma Sapna.

After prying ourselves away from the gorgeousness that was our villa, I asked the boys to take us to Balangan Beach. They suggested going to Dreamland instead--once a surfing paradise, and now a highly commercialized spot that's scared all the surfers away. It's been Punta Fuego-ed, with gates and roads and plots of land for sale. I don't remember how much a couple of sun loungers and a big umbrella cost us but, oh, they cost us. (Worth it though, as the sun was scorching that day!) Our local guides described the sand as "white," and while this beach was prettier than Seminyak's (turquoise water and all), it was more...beige, and couldn't really rival the pristine white sands of Boracay. Ah, we beach-spoiled Pinoys are hard to impress. We did get to see (and feel) some huge 10-foot waves though!

After changing into dry clothes, we hopped back into our car and drove to Ulu Watu. Yoga led us down a path away from the temple. When I asked him where everyone else was going, he replied, "Others are too lazy to walk here. But there's a very nice view."

Dude was right.

We had the option to stay at the temple for about half an hour longer to catch the sunset and an hour-long traditional dance, but we felt it was best to head back.

After saying goodbye to Yoga and his sidekick, we freshened up then walked to Rumours, a restaurant along Boutique Street. (Again, more in a future food post!)

Day 5
We got our 15-minute complimentary massage (ahhhh!) before heading out for the highlight of the day: one of our hundred kisses. Keep checking back for that post! (You wouldn't want to miss it!)

After the adrenaline rush we got, we decided to walk it off. "Let's walk for an hour," said Hamil. I initially balked at the idea, but 1) walking, I found, is so much less of a chore than running what would have been a 10K not-so-fun run, and 2) the company was great! So on we walked, with the crowds getting thicker as we crossed the invisible lines from Seminyak to Legian to Kuta Beach. Walk for an hour we did--until we walked right off the beach and straight into a McDonald's!

A triple cheeseburger. Because there's only so much Nasi Goreng one can have.

We walked a bit more around Kuta, which was pretty busy--speeding motorcycles zooming through narrow streets, barefoot and bare-chested surfer dudes strolling around with beer in hand. Hamil bought a couple of the oh-so-popular Bintang shirts before we stopped over at the Memorial to say a little prayer.

We took a cab back to our home base before again having dinner at Rumours. (What can I say? Hamil loved the place.)

Day 6
We spent the last few hours at La Casa de Awesome, savoring the villa we had to say goodbye to too soon.

Kiss #5: Honeymoon, At Last!

Because of our crazy busy scheds, it took us more than a year after our wedding to finally get this kiss...

This breathtaking photo was taken on the cliffs of Ulu Watu in Bali, Indonesia. Hamil actually high-fived the tour guide for taking an outstanding pic. There's us, with our sashes--required wear for anyone who wants to enter that temple in the background. And there, to the right, perched atop a cliff, is the famous temple of Ulu Watu, one of a thousand temples on the small island. It's a little unnerving, walking beside a steep drop to those waves crashing against solid rock. But it's quite beautiful. I hear the sunset from here is a sight to see.

More on our trip--our honeymoon!--in the next post.