Prada Mama No More

Welcome to 87 Gentle Street, the new home of "The Prada Mama Chronicles".

Yes, two and a half years after my last post, I am officially laying Prada Mama to rest on Blogger's familiar fertile ground. I will always be thankful for the ministration and support of my blogger friends at Pansitan.net, particularly Gigi "Ate Sienna" Manaloto and Nicanor "BatJay" David. It was through their encouragement (and BatJay's wife, Jet's example), that I came out with a second blog which would eventually eclipse the original; inventing a persona who was sometimes brash,
always opinionated, yet never apologetic.

But a lot has happened since then. For one, my husband and I were rebaptized and have since rededicated our lives to the Lord. Secondly, all of my kids are now in school, which leaves very little time for blogging, and even if I DID find time to blog, it would not be under the "Prada Mama" moniker, which sounds decidedly worldly and simply not "me" anymore. (Although our children have been blessed to go to a private Christian school for the past five years, we now live very simply.)

But all that doesn't change the third reason which is solely responsible for my silence. Simply put, I now have a Facebook account, which streamlines the process of information dissemination, not to mention social interaction, so effectively that blogging has been rendered obsolete. Want to know my status? Read your News Feed. Want to see how much my kids have grown? Check out my Photos. Can't find them? Friend me! If you really and truly know me, you'll find me. And if I really and truly know you, I'll accept your friend request!

Yet Facebook's Notes pages are decidedly ugly and nondescript, and it's not the same as reading a REAL blog. So if you're in the mood to slow things down, just get off the next exit on the Facebook Superhighway. Take the time to explore the web's side streets, meander through its back roads, and remember to stop and smell the flowers every now and then. And maybe, just maybe, you'll come upon this blog, written by a mother at a time when she could still chronicle her children's journeys of discovery through those long, languid days before preschool.

And since you've found yourself at my doorstep, may I invite you in for a story or two?

Welcome to 87 Gentle Street.

DOUBLE HAPPINESS




If you will please indulge a proud mother...

I took a picture of the CVCA Honor Roll posted in my sons' school. If you click on it, you will see a familiar name in the left column, reserved for those whose grades were between 3.7 and 4.0 in the first quarter. Yes, that's my son, Lance, under the S's. He is in third grade this year, the first year where a student gets past Excellent and Satisfactory, to actual As and Bs.

On the day of our first Parent-Teacher Conference this year, Lance gave Lorenzo and me the best present any parent can have: a 3.75 on his first quarter report. At first, this didn't register with me since I wasn't used to this kind of grading system. I even asked his teacher, Mrs. Mathews, if that was a good grade. (See, when I was growing up in UPIS and UP, we were graded on the eleven point system, where the highest grade was 1.0, followed by 1.25, 1.5 and so on, etc., so for me "3.75" sounded like "1.75", which was still a good grade but not by any means stellar in my book.) But when his teacher explained that his grade was just points shy from a 4.0, it all clicked for me and I was fairly flushed with pride.

My son and I have always bumped heads during homework time. And although his former teacher informed me that he was reading at almost 8th grade reading level, it was just something I took in stride since he has always been a voracious reader. I didn't want to expect too much this early on, especially since I knew there was a huge transition between 2nd and 3rd grades. But when I received the results of his ITBS Testing, it only confirmed that it wasn't a fluke:

"Lorenzo (a.k.a. Lance) earned a Composite grade equivalent of 6.3 on the Level 9 test. This means that his test performance was approximately the same as that of a typical student in the sixth grade at the end of the third month. Lorenzo's Composite national percentile rank of 99 means that he scored higher than 99% of third grade students nationally. His overall achievement appears to be high for third grade."

(This got the stage mother in me wondering if there was such a thing as "99+" in the ITBS. I remember being really impressed when my best friend scored 99 in the NCEE (the National College Entrance Exams in the Philippines), only to discover that I actually got a 99+.)

But anyway, I digress. The point is that my son has done me proud, and I wanted to reward him in a big way.

Since his birthday was coming up, I decided to throw him a surprise party. I invited some family friends and his whole class, which wasn't such a big deal, since he goes to a private Christian school where the entire third grade is comprised of only 13 students.

The week before the party, I started calling all the parents to see who could come. HIs birthday was on Wednesday, November 12, but I decided to hold it a day earlier, which also happened to Veteran's Day, a holiday for schools like Reanna's preschool, but a regular school day at CVCA. Since I was the Scholastic volunteer for the class, I was able to pass out the invitations tucked inside the book order flyers, including authorization notes for parents to sign so we could pick up their kids from the After School Program.

And since I knew that kids would invariably talk, I conveniently scheduled a pizza lunch on his actual birthday with Mrs. Mathews, who was in on the secret and played her part beautifully. That way, if anyone ever mentioned the word "party", we would make Lance think if was about his pizza party at school.

Veteran's Day broke bright and early, which made me quite happy since the weather report said it would be mostly cloudy the whole day. While the boys were at school, Daddy and I worked on the gazebo at Roeding Heights park in Ceres, my chosen venue for the event.



It was the perfect place for a picnic in the park. It was big enough for the 40-50 guests I was expecting, it was right beside the play area and the rest rooms AND it had lights and electricity, in case the party went way into the night.

At the stroke of 3:15, I picked up Lance and Troy while my husband hid in the parking lot, picking up some of Lance's classmates when we left. The rest of the class headed to the park with their parents, waiting for the honored guest to arrive. While they were setting up, I took Lance and Troy to pick up the birthday cake which Lance chose earlier, an Indiana Jones chocolate cake which said "Have a whipping Happy Birthday, Lance!", per the birthday boy's request.



Lance wanted to know why we were picking up his cake early, so I told him I had too many things to do to get ready for his pizza party the next day. Then I said we had to pick up Reanna from a play date in the park.

When we pulled up to Roeding Heights park, there were so many vehicles parked in front of the gazebo that it obstructed the view. So far, so good. As we got out of the car, I made it a point to engage Lance in conversation, so when he finally turned around to see all his friends thronged around the HUGE banner, which read "SURPRISE! HAPPY 9th BIRTHDAY, LANCE!", his jaw just dropped. The look on his face made all the effort worth it!

Of course, I couldn't have pulled it off without the help of my friends: Debye, who makes the most awesome salad and brought a heaping bowl of it to the party, and Donna, who helped her put the finishing touches on the decor while Lorenzo and I got the kids; Elssy, also known as "Mrs. Banner" in CVCA, for the beautiful banner she made for Lance; Melissa, who cooked her famous pancit, and Esther, who helped man the grill where Lorenzo cooked the hot dogs and veggie dogs for our picnic. She was also in charge of the children's games, organizing an Egg Toss, an Egg Relay and a Scavenger Hunt.





It was a wonderful party, with many people staying way past sundown. At the end of the day, Lance thanked Daddy and me for his early birthday surprise. But the celebration wasn't over yet, because his REAL birthday was coming up!

He didn't know that I had another cake planned for him, an Optimus Prime cake I designed with a store-bought cake, some fancy candles and a Happy Meal toy. When his classmates saw it, they said, "Wow, we get to have cake two days in a row?" I guess if you have two parties in a row, you can!




When I sent him to bed on his birthday, Lance still couldn't stop talking about his double celebration. He thanked me again for making his birthday extra-special. I gave him a hug and he gave me a kiss. I looked at my son, not quite believing he was already nine. These last two cakes would be the last with single candles on them. My boy was fast growing up.

In the end, I couldn't resist myself. I just had to hear it. "Do you feel loved?" I ask.

"Yes," he answers simply.

"Good," I say, "Because you are."

SOONER OR LATER




POP QUIZ: Who can remember swooning and sighing to the following song:

SIMPLY JESSIE
Music by Stephen Lawrence, Lyrics by Bruce Hart
Sung by Rex Smith
From the book and movie, "Sooner or Later"

And I don't know how I knew it
But I knew it somehow,
You're the answer to the question
No one's answered 'til now.

And I don't know what you see
What you see in me,
But girl it's nothing to
What I see in you.

Stars that glisten, lips for kissin'
Honey, listen, it's true
No one ever loved you better
Love you honey...

And I've known a girl or two
But none of them was you
And they could never be
What you are to me

Stars that glisten, lips for kissin'
Honey, listen, it's true
No one ever loved you better
Love you, honey,
I love you

Hmmm, I love you
Oh-oh, I love you, uh-huh
I love you, Mmm,

I love you.


ANSWER: Your age is showing!

Like most girls who experienced their first blush of love in the early eighties, I've held this song close to my heart through all these years. It was the most romantic song I'd ever heard. Those unmistakeable first few bars on the guitar was a siren call which would summon me from whatever it was I was doing to the nearest radio, where I would listen, transfixed, to Rex Smith's voice and imagine he was singing to, well, ME of course!

"Simply Jessie" was just one of those songs that dripped romance. The storybook, fairytale-movie kind of romance favored by prepubescent girls in their freshman year in High School. And just like Jessie, the 13-year-old protagonist in the book and the made-for-TV-movie, "Sooner or Later", I was a HOPELESS ROMANTIC, eagerly awaiting my first love.

Well, my "first love" has obviously come and gone, and my second and third besides. After my first serious relationship, which would last throughout my freshman year in UP Diliman, I would have two more serious relationships, both of them long-term, one which would last for six years and was headed for the altar, and the other which actually made it there, but unfortunately did not make it past the same six-year shelf-life.

Accompaniment to these relationships were songs which would weave themselves into the soundtrack of my life: "Victims" by Culture Club, "I Don't Need You" by Rupert Holmes, even "Lady in Red" by Chris deBurgh, but sadly, even though one of my former flames had Michael Skye's good looks and one of them (classically trained in music), his musical ability, none of my exes would bring me back to that time capsule in my life, where my breathless, bright-eyed, blushing alter-ego still swooned and sighed at the sight of Rex Smith (who played Michael Skye in the movie) singing "Simply Jessie" for me and me alone.

All these years, I had THE song, but no man who deserved to sing it. And so it remained MY song, as opposed to "our" song. A song I enjoyed in private, which evoked memories, not of the men who shared my life, but of my long-lost Prince Charmings, the teen idols of my youth: Jimmy MacNichol, Leif Garrett, Shaun Cassidy, Parker Stevenson, and of course, Rex Smith.

Yes, I'll admit I used to read Teen Beat, 16 and Tiger Beat back in those days, even though my cousin, Tina Gaerlan, wrinkled her nose in disdain at my "bakya" taste, telling me my teen magazines were the equivalent of "Kislap" in the States and I was better off reading "Seventeen". (I was in "masa" UPIS and she was from "sosyal" Poveda, but she would later join me in that proud bastion of the Great Unwashed, UP Diliman.)

But I digress. My point is that after three long-term relationships and a sprinkling of mild to serious flirtations, I had yet to meet my "Michael Skye". A man who could turn my legs to butter just at the mention of my name, whose mere touch could reduce me to putty, whose smile could brighten up my entire universe. Such a man could only be a product of fiction, right?

Right. Eleven years ago, that's exactly what I would've said. "Right."

But then someone came my way, close to the stroke of midnight, eleven years ago, who made me believe again. A man who was so good-looking, people would turn their heads and stare; so strong, he could lift you with one arm, yet so gentle he would sing to your hair in the dark and spend the rest of the night in the same uncomfortable position just so you could sleep, unhindered, in his arms.

He was everything I found attractive in a man: makisig, matipuno, moreno. And did I fail to mention super-lakas ng dating? Yet he was shy, humble, self-effacing. Pure salt of the earth. I couldn't believe he was for real. And I fell for him. Hard.

Life was so uncertain back then, and our love grew in a vacuum, enclosed in our own little corner of the world facing Manila Bay. It was then that I learned how to love without expecting anything in return. It was enough for me to gaze at him while he was sleeping and marvel at how beautiful he was, even in his tousled state. I couldn't believe my luck. I had found my Michael Skye, and just like Jessie in the movie, he only had eyes for me!

I knew I would get it right, "sooner or later"! And now, eleven years down the road and twenty-eight years since my freshman year in High School, "Simply Jessie" sounds fresh as ever, because now I've finally found someone I'm willing to share it with. Someone who truly deserves it. Someone who promised me he would learn to play it in his guitar and sing it for me. And someone whose voice could finally do justice to the song.

I am truly blessed. I have finally found my storybook hero. And I'm married to him. Yes, life goes on, even after the credits read "The End". And I'm glad to say that in the book that is my life, in my very own made-for-TV-movie, I'm still living, and writing, that happy ending. With him by my side.

Happy anniversary, my love. I still thank the Lord for you, everyday.



To quote another Rex Smith song from the movie, even after knowing you all these eleven years, you still "take my breath away"!

Love, R.

BALLERINA GIRL (L. Richie)



(This is dedicated to my daughter, my inspiration, my Reanna.)

Ballerina girl, you are so lovely.
With you standing there, I'm so aware
Of how much I care for you.
You are more than now,
You are for always.
I can see in you
My dreams come true
Don't you ever go away...



With love,
Mom

PREHISTORIC PAYBACK




Today is Lorenzo's birthday. His 38th, to be exact. But as far as I'm concerned, it's payback time.

I happen to be a little older than my husband. Nothing major, just a matter of fourteen and a half months. Since I celebrated my 39th BIRTHDAY, however, last March, someone (and I won't mention names) has been teasing me about my age and the whole "pushing 40" thing.

Of course it wasn't long before my kids jumped on the bandwagon, making jokes about Mommy walking with cavemen and graduating from Prehistoric University. Ask them how old their Dad is, however, and the answer's always the same. Twenty-seven.

Yep. Daddy's got 'em trained well. Cheeky little things.

For the past few months, Mommy just grinned and bore it. After all, there was no going around it: He was 37, she was 39.

Until today, when someone else's birthday comes one notch closer to the four-zero mark. And to commemorate this happiest of occasions, Mommy found the perfect CAKE online. An exquisitely executed chocolate prehistoric landscape dotted with a volcano, a T-Rex and a triceratops, all deliciously blended together with vanilla custard filling and butter cream icing.

Happy Birthday, Babe. Consider it even.

Love, R.

(Prada Mama's NOTE: Before everything else, I would like to greet my husband, Lorenzo, "Happy Anniversary" , and to thank him for seven years of wedded bliss. I would also like to thank the Lord for arranging our meeting exactly ten years ago. Little did we know back then that we would still be together, ten years hence.

Happy anniversary, Babe. Here's to the next decade...and the next...and the next...

Oh well, might as well go for broke: Here's to forever! Even though the Bible says there are no marriages in heaven, at least we'll still be together! I love you! R.)
A IS FOR al'-pha-bet.



This is one of my favorite photos of my daughter, Reanna.

I call it "Helping Hands", and although it is not my picture, per se, I am using it as my main photo on my FRIENDSTER profile. After all, that is my hand you see, attached to the Rolex on the left.

I have to admit I am a relative late-bloomer as far as Friendster is concerned. But now that I've jumped on the bandwagon, I am discovering the joys of revisiting old friends and making new ones, many of whom are my fellow bloggers themselves: ATE SIENNA, CHRISTINE, RUTH and JUSTICE to name a few. And if you think my Friendster picture is unconventional, you should see MEEYAGIRL's!

But I digress from the point of this post, which is to officially introduce my Friendster BLOG, "al'pha-bet".

Now, this blog differs from my other blogs because it has short posts. Period. In fact, the following post, written today, is probably the longest of the lot, but that's because I wanted this introduction to be extra-special.

And so, without further ado, I now present the latest entry in "AL'-PHA-BET", the ABC's of Prada Mama's life:

A is for ANNIVERSARY

Today is my seventh wedding anniversary.

Today also happens to be Harry Potter's birthday. And today is the second wedding anniversary I have spent with my nose buried in a book with that familiar diamond Harlequin pattern.

Exactly two years ago, I was celebrating my fifth anniversary at the Crowne Plaza in Milpitas, learning about Horcruxes while my family frolicked in the pool. Later in the day, I would be in the car with my sleeping baby, reading under the sun's fading light while the boys (my husband and sons) played in the beach at Santa Cruz. I would've even brought the tome along as we rode Thomas the Tank Engine at Roaring Camp Railroad, but alas, it was too big and unwieldy.

Yup, July 31 is special for me and The Boy Who Lived, who should have turned 17 a few hours ago at the stroke of midnight, which means he can now do magic without a Trace.

And since we're on the subject, may I also mention that today also happens to be Neville Longbottom's birthday. Yes, this Muggle was paying attention.
By now it should be obvious that this Muggle is eagerly devouring the last book in the Harry Potter series, wondering how much Neville Longbottom and their shared birthday plays into the most anticipated conclusion of all time. And yes, I think Snape is loyal.

So allow me to now take my leave, with a quick French lesson from one on my favorite characters, Fleur Delacour:

A is for adieu,
A is for anniversaire, and
A is for 'Arry.

SUMMER PEACH




My daughter, Reanna, makes a luscious summer peach.

Climb two branches up the family tree to my older son, Lance, and you'll find a summer squash. At least HE did, yesterday, when he fell off his horse at SUMMER CAMP.

But I'm getting ahead of my story here. First, let me tell you about summer in the Sereno household, which began with...


Troy's Kindergarten Graduation

...

...

I find it hard to believe I'm now writing about my younger son's graduation from kindergarten. Wasn't it just yesterday when I wrote about Lance's HULA NUMBER during his kindergarten graduation? And now he's busy flying off horses somewhere in Yosemite National Park. But again, I digress.

Troy has always been my baby. His whole class had been practicing hard for their graduation program, and I was curious to see their grand finale. Needless to say, being the Mom that I was, I started crying during their very first number, "What a Wonderful World", which the class sang and signed. By the time they got to the Power Point presentation of the kids' pictures with my favorite Christian music in the background, the floodgates were opened and there was no stopping the torrent of tears. But I knew I wasn't the only emotional parent in the audience. I couldn't help it, of course. I was so proud of my baby.

Oh, and I must say his Barong Tagalog stole the show!




Shortly after graduation, we received the boys' report cards in the mail. Both of them did so well, they received a prize for their stellar performance.




That marked the official end of the school year. I was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. Summer was here! For months I'd been looking forward to those long, lazy, langorous days. Ahh...sweet indolence.

NOT!

Indeed, since summer began, I've been accosted with requests of walks to the park, swimming, bike riding and trips to covered bridges. My beautiful babies, all fair and beatific looking last winter, have put on the season's colors!

From this...


...to this!


Like my husband always says: "Just add water..."




Even as I type this, my Lance is continuing to brown under the broad expanse of Yosemite's skies. He is now 7, the youngest age that can go to Adventurer's Camp.

Now, Lorenzo and I would have probably balked at sending him away from us for the first time, but since we had just gone to Camp Wawona for FAMILY CAMP last Easter, we felt comfortable that he would be in good hands.

Indeed, the atmosphere at Camp Wawona is so wholesome. The camp is run by the Central California Conference of Seventh-Day Adventists, and it has been around since even before Yosemite was declared a National Park. We thoroughly enjoyed our stay there last Spring. The cabins were comfortable, the food was awesomely good, and the scenery was matchless.






Now Lance gets another turn to experience Yosemite's many pleasures and treasures. I miss my son. We dropped him off at Camp Wawona last Sunday and the house hasn't been the same since. I marvel at how much he's grown. My former preemie, who came into this world six weeks early at 5 lbs. 3 oz., is now a big boy with so much independence in him. He was totally ready for this summer camp experience.

In fine camp tradition, I baked him his favorite Zucchini Nut Bread and sent it to him through the Post Office. Lance first discovered Zucchini Nut Bread at Starbuck's, where we used to go as a family, Lorenzo and I foregoing our usual Caramel Macchiatos for the more wholesome Strawberries and Cream. I knew it would be the perfect thing to send, standing up to more Postal Service abuse than the traditional cookies or fudge. As an added bonus, I also sent him a sheet of the new STAR WARS stamps for him to start a new stamp collection with. And finally, attached to the hand-written card Troy and I made for him was a couple of postcard stamps, in case he wanted to write us back.

I guess the package got to my son just at the right time, after dinner and just before he was taken to the hospital for X-rays. It seems that my son fell off when his horse suddenly bolted at the end of their horseback-riding session. Lorenzo spoke with him yesterday, and he seemed okay, but today he had some bit of bruising and tenderness in his left elbow and hip so the medical staff thought it best to have him checked.

I spoke to Lance before they left, and he told me he would share his Zucchini Nut Bread with his cabinmates and Matt, their couselor. He also told me there were two Daves and two Austins in his cabin, which he found quite amusing. I forgot to ask him if he kept the bunk right by the bathroom, which we chose for him when he went to Line Call on his first day, just before dinner. It was hard for us to leave him then, and his Daddy and I found so many excuses to linger at the cafeteria while they were eating. I guess we were both reluctant to let our son go so far away from us for such a long time.





And now the week is almost over. Lance asked us to pick him up as early as possible. He said he was having a lot of fun, but he also didn't like being away from us too much. It warmed my heart to hear this. He also requested to speak with his brother and sister, who were with me in...


Vacation Bible School

This year, our church did "AVALANCHE RANCH", which promised to be "a wild ride through God's Word". From Monday to Friday this week, our Fellowship Hall was brightened by the sound of children singing songs, participating in Bible stories, and making clever crafts. It's a great way to bring children closer to the Lord.

I was also happy that Vacation Bible School happened just when Lance went to summer camp, because it made his absence a bit more bearable for his brother and sister. Troy, in particular, has suffered through the separation, coming to me in tears on a couple of occasions, saying "I miss Lancey...". He consoled himself by lying on his Kuya's bed. It was enough to break any mother's heart.

But everyday this week, my children's spirits would brighten in anticipation of VBS. Come early evening, loneliness would be temporarily forgotten as they joined other children singing in front, praying, memorizing Bible verses, ignoring dinner and wolfing down dessert. Troy even made me proud by refusing help in writing down Bible verses, carefully doing it himself.






Troy and Reanna had such a wonderful time at VBS, I'm almost sorry it's come to an end. But this just brings us one day closer to seeing Lance again, so I guess I don't mind. Besides, with the number of churches around us, I'm sure there will be other Vacation Bible Schools my kids can attend this summer.

The best part of it all? Their Kuya Lance will be with them next time around!




We miss you, Lance! We're so happy you're coming back soon.

Love, Mom