CALL HER IRRESPONSIBLE




Yes, YOU, with the green Dodge Neon and the vicious black dog.

Earlier today, we drove to Mervyn's to replace a sheet set that was all the wrong dimensions for our California King bed. Little did we know there would be a harrowing ordeal at the end of our destination.

We parked right in front of the store, and Lorenzo got out of the driver's seat to let Reanna out of her car seat. Lance and Troy had fallen asleep in the rear, so we decided that I would go in with Reanna while he waited in the van with our sleeping boys.

I was retrieving the sheet set when I heard Lorenzo give a surprised yell. "That dog bit me!"

"What dog?", I thought. I didn't remember hearing a bark, or even a growl. And then I saw it. A black dog, obviously agitated, sitting in the passenger side of the dark-green Dodge Neon sedan parked beside us, its windows rolled down by about six inches. My husband was staring at the beast with mixed anger and disbelief. His next words chilled me to the bone.

"That could've been Reanna..."

And I thought my knees, instantly reduced to jelly, couldn't weaken any more. I checked the bite area, relieved that there was no blood. And then I rushed into the store, breathing a prayer of thanks that my husband was carrying my daughter in his other arm. Mervyn's Guest Services quickly called the cops and paramedics, who got there in no time. They also paged the owner of the Dodge Neon, who came out of the store just when the paramedics were examining the bite mark.

She seemed more concerned for her dog that anything else. It wasn't until after one of the paramedics sarcastically pointed out that they were there to treat my husband, and not her dog, that she even remembered to ask if Lorenzo was okay.

"This dog is like my family, she has never done this before." I take that with a grain of salt. The dog was obviously troubled. You can see in these pictures that the dog chomped off a good-sized hole towards the back of Lorenzo's left sleeve. My husband didn't even know there was a dog in the next car, and he was obviously bitten after he had walked past it. This was clearly a case of an unprovoked attack, with no warning whatsoever.

Now, Lorenzo and I happen to own a dog as well, and we sometimes take Spot the Pit Bull with us in our van too, but only when it's cool out so we can leave him, leashed securely to the front arm rest with the windows cracked open by a couple of inches, and he would still be comfortable. This person's car was completely parked in the shade. There was absolutely no reason for her to leave her windows wide open, especially since her dog was roaming around freely inside of it, unleashed. This was just courting trouble, pure and simple.

And then, as if to add insult to injury, she tried to downplay the whole incident. Lorenzo, a former bodybuilder, has firm, taut arm muscles, so the dog's teeth couldn't latch on to anything but his shirt. Lorenzo was fortunate, nay, blessed, that he was able to walk away from the ordeal with just a minor scratch and bruising. Even then, I don't wish to imagine what the outcome could've been had he shifted even an inch to his left.

"Oh, you can hardly see it," the dog's owner stated dismissively.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing! If it was I who had driven earlier today and I who had walked past that open window, I've no doubt my injury would've been a lot worse, given the flabby state of my arms. That dog could've bitten a chunk out of me.

Or worse, my daughter.

"It didn't even break the skin."
"Yes, but it could've been worse. A LOT worse."
"No, it couldn't!"

I could feel my anger boiling over, and I let her have it. How dare she talk that way when her irresponsible behavior could've resulted in my 20-month-old daughter being maimed for life, or even worse? I shudder to think of what could've been, had Lorenzo been carrying Reanna on the arm that was bitten.

Maybe if she was a bit more contrite and willing to admit her fault, we could've chosen not to file a case against her. But she was arrogant and haughty, and totally unapologetic. After we were assured that the dog wouldn't be put to sleep, we decided to press on with charges. Maybe after she's ordered to pay a fine for her infraction, she'll finally realize that she was at fault. As it is, it's hardly a slap in the wrist.

At least as far as I'm concerned!

ANGELS AMONG US




"One Lord, one faith, one baptism." Ephesians 4:5

Last Saturday, LORENZO and I shared the most meaningful moment we've experienced in all our nine years together. In many ways, it was even more memorable than our wedding ceremony six years ago. For while we got married in the eyes of God back then, (on July 31, 2000), on February 11, 2006, we were both married to God. In a solemn yet joyful ceremony at the Modesto Central Seventh Day Adventist Church, my husband and I were re-baptized together, in front of our three children and our new church family.

Like most Filipinos, Lorenzo and I were "sprinkled" when we were children. But I wasn't baptized by water immersion, as prescribed by the Bible, until I was twelve, shortly after receiving Jesus into my life. Lorenzo, on the other hand, wasn't baptized until after we got married. Since then, we both lost our way, (maybe even a little bit of each other), in the world. But I'm happy to say that we have found each other again in the Lord.

All it took was a simple four-week SEMINAR. And now, we find ourselves falling in love with each other all over again, simply because we've fallen in love with the Lord again. And the blessings haven't stopped pouring since.

Six years ago, Lorenzo took me to be his bride.
Six days ago, we both became the "Bride of Christ".

Praise the Lord indeed!




P.S. Thanks to Tyler and Lavonne Long of Amazing Facts Ministries, and to Pastor James Scarborough, Donna Bearden, Teri Johnson, along with the other Children's Program volunteers at Modesto Central. We appreciate all the prayers and the phone follow-ups, the books and the babysitting, the home visits and the take-home DVDs. Because of you, we never felt like we were "just a name and number". Thanks for showing us you really care.

You truly are "Angels among us".

MY LITTLE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS

Lance came home today with a note from his first grade teacher:

It read:

"Dear Mrs. Sereno,

Lance passed a level 34 today for me. His report card will only show a P for passing reading. He will continue to see Mrs. B**** for reading.

Thanks,
Mrs. B***"

(Lance, who is one of the youngest kids in Grade 1 owed to his mid-November birthday, goes to a Grade 2 class with a different teacher for Reading.)


I couldn't contain my happiness. A Level 34 in the DRA (Developmental Reading Assessment) SCALE is equivalent to mid-third grade! I really appreciated his teacher's taking the time to let me know this. I guess in first grade, the highest mark a student can get is "P" for "pass", even though he has surpassed all expectations and is reading two full grades above his level.

The timing was uncanny. Tomorrow happens to be my son, MAX's thirteenth birthday. Exactly one year ago tomorrow, I received a totally different form of correpondence from Lance's school: a Disciplinary Report with what was literally a SOUR NOTE written on it by his kindergarten teacher.

But Lance lost no time in redeeming himself, even back then, (perhaps spurred on a little bit by some Fatherly ADVICE!). Looking back now, I see that I ended up writing his homeroom teacher a more positive NOTE, just twenty days after the transgression.

And he has been on the road to REDEMPTION since!


Congratulations, Lance! Mommy and Daddy are so proud of you!


(P.S. While we're on the subject, check out "Redemption" at 87 GENTLE STREET!)

IN WITH THE NEW

Thanks to RONALLAN, JAYRED, MARE, NIKKI, MEEYAGIRL and abby for dropping by to leave me their personal New Year's greetings. I would like to wish them, and YOU, a happy and healthy 2006 as well.

I'm sure all of us ushered in the new year with great fanfare. My mother-in-law's home witnessed its own share of noisemaking, revelry and rabble-rousing.

Here are a few pictures to prove it.


...

But now, the party's over, and we find ourselves carefully opening those ubiquitous datebook planners from our credit card and insurance companies, taking in their familiar leather scent, and creasing their spines for the very first time. Each year, they lie in wait, like proverbial clean slates, their empty pages just waiting to be filled.

May this be a year of interesting entries for us all.

Happy New Year!

PLUGGING

My family is back from San Diego, where we joyfully celebrated Christmas with friends and family. We went to LEGOLAND on Christmas day, totally unaware that on the other side of the world, someone else was being a SCROOGE.

One can only surmise what this person got in her stocking. A lump of coal? A run? An order to report for duty? She certainly wasn't feeling festive when she left me a comment at 87 GENTLE STREET.

Bah, humbug!

FROM MY FAMILY TO YOURS...





STOCKINGS are hung
TRAIN's up and running
TREE's all bedecked
SANTA is coming!




FLAN's in the oven
for my neighbor's NOCHE BUENA
So I leave you with a greeting
from the family SERENO

(...okay, okay, so that was stretching it a bit!
I've always said I was more of a "prose" than a "poetry" kind of person.
Look no further than the this holiday offering for proof.)


May the wonder and joy of the season be with you and yours for always!

LOOK WHO'S TALKING




This is my favorite picture of my two boys.

It was taken when Troy was three and Lance was four. Troy had just raided the orphaned sock drawer. If you're wondering why his socks are uneven, it's because one of them happens to be a glove.

I love Lance's smile in this picture too. I miss my son's open smile. He stopped showing his teeth when he lost two of his lower front ones. They've since grown back, but the toothy smile is gone. Part of growing pains, I guess, (not his but mine).

Now, my older son is six and in first grade. For the past two weeks he has been joining the Second Grade Reading Class. He was reading far too advanced compared to the rest of his classmates that his teacher felt he wasn't being challenged enough.

"Mom," he told me recently, "I know when to go back to my first grade class now. It's when the big hand is on eleven," and he gave me a proud smile.

I love recording these little snippets of conversation with my children. One can almost hear them growing up just by listening to the changes in content and speech pattern. Troy, who's now four, still talks in an endearingly bulol way sometimes, but don't let the baby talk fool you.

A few days after his Kuya Lance's Star Wars birthday party, we were driving when I heard a little voice from the back seat. "Mom", Troy said, "for my next birthday, I want a cake with Anakin and Darth Vader on it too".

"You want a cake with Anakin and Darth Vader in it?" I distractedly asked.

"No, ON it", was the reproving reply.

I never thought I'd see the day when my four-year-old would be correcting my grammar for a change!


Reanna is now a year and a half, and she, too, is discovering the delights of spoken discourse. She loves to tease me by calling me "Daddy". When I correct her by pointing to myself, saying "No, Reanna, Mom-my," she points to herself in turn and says "mom-my", with a mischievous smile. She's quick enough to call me "Mom", however, when she needs something, this time referring to herself as "Na-na". I guess Ree-YA-na is still too much of a mouthful for an eighteen-month-old's palate to form.

When Lance was Reanna's age, he used to call all the animals he saw, "doggies". Well, Reanna is no different, except she thinks all furry creatures on this earth are "kitties".

I now leave you with a memorable conversation my baby girl had with her Daddy. There they were, in the backyard, playing with Spot the Pit Bull...

Reanna: Heeeere tittie (Here kitty)...
Lorenzo: No, Reanna, "doggie".
Reanna: Heeeere tittieee...
Lorenzo: No, Reanna, Spotty is a doggie. Do-ggy.
Reanna: Heeeere tittie-doddieee... (Here kitty-doggy...)

Eighteen months and a mind of her own already.

I like that.