Fourth year on Planet Earth

"Writers, like children, are not dissuaded by the uselessness of hoarded ordinaries; instead, we cultivate a collector's sense, trying to capture mundane moments on a string of words." --Lorianne DiSabato

She's a happy four today, but the first words she spoke was an anxious, "There's a cockroach on my potty!"

Ahhh, the joys and challenges of having a grandchild in the house that is more home now because she makes it so (leaves her books in her grandparents' room when she has her own mini library, parks her toys on the office desk when she has her own play area, has two rubber duckies in the grownups' bathroom, etc.).

Sometimes my best alternative to staunching the flow of child's things is to take The Wee One for walks and slow climbs, morning or afternoon or both morning and afternoon. It's my way of making her energy dissipate at some point, then she tires enough to want some quiet time. At the same time her Booboo gets some exercise.

Over a week ago, we went sunset chasing again, but we made several stops along the way because she is distracted by textured rocks, a pile of sand, the flowers of Baguio. Like they say, life is a journey, don't be in a rush to get to your destination.

Follow this leader.

Chatting with the flowers and telling them to smile for Booboo's camera

She's a bit obsessive about things (like fallen pine needles) not being in their proper place so she removes them from the rock's crevice and throws them on the ground.

What child can't resist sand? Certainly not ours!

Selecting stones from the rubble with a thought (thoughtfulness) of adding them to her Grumpa Tats' garden. I had to put my foot down because we still had a long way to go and I didn't want the stones falling on her or my exposed toes. Next time I bring a recyclable bag. Photos by Booboo Babeth

Becoming an ancestor, finally

My title "Becoming an Ancestor" was cribbed from an essay of another grandma, the wise crone Mariel Francisco.
 
If what I read yesterday is true, today is Grandparent's Day. What would I be without a Lola Purang like mine who taught thrift in the basic necessities and generosity of spirit at the same time? Or my children and their cousins without a Lola Mommy whose culinary expertise has made her morcon and kare-kare legendary among clan members? Or Kai, formerly Butones, without grandparents like her Tats and Booboo whose partnership endures against the odds and whose love for books and shelves of these she will certainly inherit? 

So to all the old and foolish beings who become young in the company of their grandchildren, cheers and more years of joy to all of us!

My ancestors, starting with Lola Purang (seated far right) with Auntie Pacing, Cousins Rose, Sonny (on Lolo Laki's lap) and Toots Romero. Standing are: Ramon Romero, Dad (Enrique Lolarga Jr.), Auntie Fe, Uncle Esting and Uncle Celso.

Carlo Trinidad protectively holds Kimi Fernandez's hand as their Lola Mommy waves at her unheeding grandkids. Taken in Baguio at Lola Purang's retirement home in the 1980s

Kimi, Kai and the Boo

Grumpa Tats, who just turned 63, shares his birthday cake with Kai doing her trademark duck face.

She lights up my life...

...she gives me hope to carry on, and so on and so forth. 

At the slightest chance of a long weekend (three nights and four days), I visit the button of my  life. She changes at every next encounter, her babbling now acquiring coherence to the adults around her. 

At mealtimes, she likes to check if we're all present around the dining table, then points with her forefinger at each of us: "Tats! Mamay! Booboo! Ate!" Then she sits down before her own small dining table (her Mamay and Tita Ida's study table when they were wee girls) to try to feed herself from a bowl with increasing success.

The half smile that can melt the hardest heart

Veteran huggers

Before or after breakfast, she enjoys a walk in the neighborhood children's park for her dose of Vitamin D, then comes back famished, ready for a snack and a yogurt drink. Then she hangs out in her nursery with her toys or joins her Mamay and Booboo in the home office. 

To keep her from distracting her working mom, I like to sing action songs, recite nonsense stuff or read to her. Or we look out the window to count the number of white butterflies. But such are the counting skills of Butones that she tends to speed things up, crying out, "Eight, nine, TEN!"

The weekend I was there I introduced her to my small collection of matryoska dolls. These Russian nesting dolls are a recurring image in some of my paintings. She can open them up and extract one smaller doll after another but not put them back together again. Next weekend, I will teach her their Russian names and see if she can repeat them. 

Her nighttime routine is to pass by the grandparents' room for the last-minute giggles and hugs. Her Grumpa Rolly, whom she calls Tats, taught her to bless his hand before she leaves to return to her room.

They say giving is better than receiving, and I quite agree. But with a grandchild like Butones, I just have to make the effort to go up and be there to be at the receiving end of her unconditional love.

So young yet she already knows her best angle, a trait that makes me think of my younger daughter.

Photos by Booboo Babeth and Mamay Kimi