Ten Years

My DH have to postpone our anniversary dinner yet again. No big deal though. It's not a MAJOR anniversary (at least not by me... hahaha!). It's the anniversary of when we first became a serious couple. Man, that was 10 years ago! We were two totally different people then. Now look where we are now!

On that fateful night ten years ago, I actually told DH to keep our relationship under wraps for at least two months. I wanted to spare both of us the trouble of explaining to friends and nosy co-workers alike why the relationship didn't pan out. I know. I can be too cynical for my own good sometimes, dooming a relationship before it even began. Fortunately for me, DH proved to be both tenacious and determined to show me what beautiful things can come if I give love a real chance. Now, I've got a decade full of lovin' under my belt!

Naturally, the past decade hasn't been all rosy. We both faced a lot of challenges, both within and from outside the relationship. We've been thrown a couple of curveballs, but so far we haven't struck out yet. DH and I have also come a long way from where we were when we initially started. Not just literally, or in terms of career and such, but also as regards our level of maturity and outlook in life. I find that we tend to look out less for ourselves and more towards others, especially our children.

In terms of romance, while we probably don't have the same giddy and excitable emotion that comes with a new love, I think that what we have now is more stable... more real. Fortunately for me, DH is a cuddler, so cuddling with each other on late nights either watching TV or reading (as long as both kids are sound asleep) is already enough for us. We've slowly done away with public displays of (over) affection. Instead, we relish in holding each other's hands, quick hugs and, yes, meaningful looks. Naturally, we still have our own passionate heart-skips-a-beat moments. But it's more... real and with less artifice and self-consciousness... which I think makes these moments sweeter and better. More of the real rock-your-world kind of thing. I know, it kind of sounds like it's a sad thing, but I'm happy that we're transforming into an old couple. We've grown so comfortable with each other that we have our own vibe and language. It's a kind of relationship that I won't mind having for decades to come.

So even if we have to celebrate our anniversary two weeks after the fact (everyone in the family has been passing around a virus from one to another), I still feel excited because we will be celebrating ten years into our journey together as a couple. I'd like to end this post with an excerpt from Pablo Neruda's "Soneto XVII (Cien Sonetos de Amor)":

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.

I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;

So I love you because I know no other way than this:

Where I does not exist, nor you.

So close that your hand on my chest is my hand,

So close that your eyes close as I fall into a dream.

A Simple Life

My parents' story is a rags-to-riches one. Having married young and both coming from dirt-poor families, they grittily strove to overcome their dire circumstance through a combination of living a very frugal lifestyle, industriousness and good fortune.

However, it was a different scenario for me then as I had to grow up within that said frugal lifestyle. My younger brother and I lived on clothes that were either hand-me-downs from family friends or were purchased from street vendors. My mother would buy us new school shoes at the begininng of the school year that were a size larger to make space for our growing feet. In the meantime, to keep from dragging our oversize shoes, we learned to fold our socks over our toes to have a snugger fit. When children our age were happily playing with their barbies and lego sets, my brother and I would play with the other street urchins... sometimes even playing tag on a very busy street!

This probably carried on until I was in junior college. Stingy as my mom was, she never scrimped when it came to my education. She sent me and my brother to the best schools our own brains would allow us into. Needless to say, I became one of those poor girls in a rich school. In hindsight, I guess I can say that this was where I became a freak in progress! Haha! Well, when the unspoken objective among my peers then was to belong... to fit in... I was a square peg to a round hole. I could hold my ground on an academic level, but in the social playing field I was a fish out of water.

Back when wearing any "Esprit" branded clothing was the epitome of coolness, my very dedicated mother got me an "Espirit" one from the local vendor! When Tretorn sneakers were the only brand a girl could decently wear (paired with socks from St. Michael's if I may add), I wore my knock-off Tretorns --- except that the "boomerang" on mine were upsidedown. Totally hilarious I tell you!

In the end, I just resigned myself that I won't be able to keep up. Too many brands and must-haves, and too many fights with my mom on how unappreciative I am of the stuff that she buys me. By the time I entered college, I just decided to do my own thing (full-fledged freak?!). I got jeans that fit and shoes that felt comfortable. I owned shirts in solid colors so that I won't have to worry if the patterns clash or whatever other fashion rules there were. Even when my parents' financial situation improved and they could finally give me an occasional brand-name piece of clothing, I simply took the labels off just so it wouldn't be out-of-style simply because the brand has become outdated.

Then I got my first job after college and started earning my own money. Suddenly it was as if the floodgates opened for me. With my salary to spend at my own personal discretion it was like being a kid in a candy store. A kid with her mom's wallet! I bought the clothes that I wanted and ate in restaurants that I've been previously ignorant of.

Fast-forward to 2006. While still not a label-whore (reason: still can't afford it), I must say that I've elevated my differentiation of wants vs. needs about twenty notches. Whereas I probably would've been happy to have a pillow to lay my head on back when I was starting out living on my own, I'm now looking at heft and support for my pillows. Likewise with sheets (at least 300 cotton ---preferably Egyptian --- percale) and most other things for my home.

What's scary though is that I'm finding myself longingly looking through the items at eluxury.com and neiman marcus. When I say longingly, I mean that if we weren't drowning in debt, I'd probably buy myself an item or two on a regular basis! What's worse is that the allure of these designer items is such that other "reasonably" branded items begin to seem so lacking. I remember seeing this really cute Benetton bag. Unfortunately, it resembled a Louis Vuitton alma handbag; hence, I began to see it as an LV wannabe when, in fact, it really was cute on its own.

So while I still can't afford to live like Paris Hilton, it's time to slap myself silly and drag my thoughts back to earth. Hello? Why am I mentally calculating what I have to scrimp on just to afford that $700 handbag splurge? Sock. It. To. My. Kids'. College. Fund. Stupid!

Thus, my new mantra will be to go back to living simply (going for the Paris Hilton theme here). I have no choice. In my family's life cycle, we're still very much in the "rags" stage and could only hope that we can be as blessed and rewarded as my parents. Besides, I'll just make myself extra miserable longing for things that I cannot have. Not to mention that fact that I've long pledged not to buy knockoffs. It has to be authentic or nothing.

On the flip side, the decision to live a simpler lifestyle has made room for more fulfilling things for me and my family. While we still cannot afford a Disneyworld vacation, my children are just as ecsatatic to take a dip at the local YMCA's pool on these hot summer days. My son is learning how to "prioritize" the toys in his wish list, knowing that he'll only get one each for his birthday and Christmas. I make more effort to cook dishes that are both delicious and nutritious since our dining-out budget is very limited. In short, I'm slowly trying to seek a balance and to put some sanity to my wants vs. needs scale. I'm not yet totally there, but I can see progress in myself! Heck, I think that I just might make even my mother proud!

The Agony of Waiting

Family members and friends who are close to me know that I am in a quiet state of agony. I have that deep-in-the-pit-of-your-stomach writhing agony of waiting. I am waiting for the light to turn green again (pardon the unintended pun) on my husband's green card application. We have moved to the US nearly seven years ago on a work visa that my DH still uses. However, his has reached a point where it has to be renewed every year (and my dependent visa with it) pending the application of his green card. And it has been three years since that process was initiated. In a green card application based on an employer petition, there usually are three stages that must be passed. I am frustrated to say that my husband's petition isn't even over the first hurdle yet. Every day that passes by adds another gray hair to my head!

I'm sure that this situation likewise frustrates my hubby to no end. On the other hand, as one who has given up a career to stay-at-home-and-play-house, it is I who gets more anxious. My take is, if the proverbial turd hits the fan, my DH will more likely have an easier time getting a job back home. In the meantime, what have I to show in the past seven years that I've been out of circulation? I doubt if the HR interviewer would find my children as interesting as I do. Nor would a future employer be as impressed at my cooking and housekeeping skills. So this petition has to go through, and hopefully it can move along a little more swiftly.

Sometimes I get anxious enough to include the labor certification approval (first step of three) in my son's bedtime prayers. Next to "Please give me a good dream and keep away bad ones," my son endearingly prays "Please let my daddy's papers be approved soon." If prayers could only be answered on the level of cuteness, God couldn't have turned AJ down! In fact there was this incident two weeks ago when I asked AJ to replace the flowers on the altar (yes, my roses did bloom!). Wondering what was taking him too long to come down with the old flowers I went up to the second floor landing where our family altar was stationed. Then there was my son, murmuring what sounded like gibberish which he promptly ceased with an embarrassed smile when he saw me. Later that day, as I was preparing him a snack he asked me this, "Mommy, did Daddy's papers get approved already?" I told him that I didn't know, but probably not. Then AJ continues, "I prayed to Papa Jesus to have Daddy's papers be approved kanina (translation: a moment ago). And your papers too, Mommy, even when you didn't ask me to pray for it." You could've guessed how much I smothered AJ with kisses right then and there.

Anyway, I wish I could say that afterwards I got a call from the lawyer telling us exactly that. Alas, that miracle didn't occur, but we're still hoping and praying. But for now, I'm carrying on with life as usual. There are days when the status of the application doesn't even cross my mind. But there are times, like tonight, when it's crowding out all other thoughts. And I'm hoping that, between my son's prayers and mine, Papa Jesus will finally say yes.