DALAGS, DA VINCI CODE, AND MY EASTER HANGOVER
Believe it or not, I still have my Easter hangover.
Maybe it's because I miss those "Toys 'R' Us" bunny rabbit commercials, which beckoned to my son, Troy, like a siren call. As soon as Troy heard those little bunny voices, he'd stop what he was doing and make a beeline for the TV, standing before it entranced with big unblinking eyes until the last bunny hopped out of sight.
Maybe it's because I'm getting sick of egg salad sandwiches. Maybe it's because my dyed eggs left indelible spots of color in my fridge. Even Spot the Pit Bull didn't escape unscathed. He now sports a bright pink tuft of fur at the base of his collar. Whether it's Easter Egg dye or strawberry Bubblicious, I'll never know. (And don't get me started on gum. I will forever rue the day Lance and Troy discovered gum.)
Or maybe it has something to do with "The Da Vinci Code", which I just finished reading. This book is just crawling with fertility, fruitfulness and fecundity. It was aptly fitting that I started reading the book during Holy Week. With Easter fast approaching, it was impossible to dismiss the book's main premise, highlighted by the barrage of fertility symbols associated with the Easter holiday.
I've always loved Easter. When we were younger, Easter Sunday was a day of deliverance. Deliverance from boring Cecil B. De Mille movies on TV (yay, cartoons again!), deliverance from dead air (and worse, institutional religious spiels) on radio (what, no Siouxsie and the Banshees?!), and most importantly, deliverance from eating dreaded pinakbet and diningding with no meat in sight. If your family is Ilocano, you'll know what I mean.
Yes, Easter to us kids meant deliverance from suffering. Just as Jesus was delivered from his torment to his rightful seat by The Father through his resurrection. Resurrection. Coming back to the living. Being reborn. Which brings me back to my former conundrum. Even before reading DVC, it had always been paradoxical to me that the Lenten Season, which was supposed to be observed with self-discipline, fasting and abstinence (and not just from FOOD), culminated with a holiday which was covertly, if not overtly sexual.
Indeed, Easter has become synonymous with abundance and proliferation. Flowers springing from the earth, scattered eggs in all hues of the rainbow, bunny rabbits multiplying exponentially...these are symbols more mundane than divine, all of them glorifying sex one way or the other.
This brings to relief an incident during the Sereno family's Easter egg hunt. Lorenzo and I were right in the middle of the fray, purportedly helping Lance and Troy look for eggs (they were much younger than their cousins, providing us with a convenient alibi). When most, but not all of the eggs had been found and the kids were starting to get antsy, my sister-in-law, Selina, pointed at me, saying, "Look, that's the biggest egg of all!" My nephews and nieces ran to me laughing, and Christa, Selina's youngest, claimed me as her egg.
I guess I DID look like an egg, with my big, pregnant tummy. "Well, if I were to be an egg, I would be a Faberge egg, thank you", I thought to myself.
And then it dawned upon me: I AM a walking fertility symbol. A life with another life hidden within, ready to spring forth at God's alloted time. Even my name, Renee, means "reborn" in French. A coincidence, mind you, but nonetheless apropos.
With five boys shared between us and our first daughter coming soon, I guess my fertility is beyond question, and neither is my husband's. I am reminded of my Lola Elvie's initial reaction three years ago, when I told her I was pregnant with Troy:
"Ano ba 'yan, para kayong mga dalag!"
I wonder what she thinks, now that another baby is on the way. But I'm not too worried. After all, the lady has five children of her own, all born within two years of each other. After witnessing my grandmother's example, I guess it's no wonder my Mom became a demographer!
And besides, nothing beats a clean conscience. I did everything by the book. In fact, when our daughter was conceived, I was on the pill and still breastfeeding Troy, another supposed hindrance to conception. And yet, here I am, blissfully pregnant at the ripe old age of 36. Given those odds we could only see this baby as a gift from The Lord.
Which brings us back to the "Da Vinci Code". How can I, an avowed Christian whose name LITERALLY means "Born Again", find such pleasure in reading what could possibly amount to heresy in certain circles? I guess I prefer to keep an open mind.
Without losing my faith.
Sunday, March 28, 2004
THREE TIMES A MONKEY
(My 36th Birthday Getaway, Monterey Peninsula, CA.)
Today I turn 36.
Thirty-six. Sounds so serious. I can't believe I'm halfway past the fourth decade of my life. That's three whole cycles of the Year of the Monkey.
Yet it doesn't feel so bad to be 36. I guess it's hard to feel miserable when you're surrounded by people who care about you. My birthday celebration has been ongoing all weekend. Yesterday, we had a joint birthday celebration/ BABY SHOWER at my sister-in-law, Selina's house. I knew about the birthday party, a joint one for my niece, Katie and me, but the baby shower was meant as a surprise. My mother-in-law and sisters-in-law were all co-conspirators, and even my husband, Lorenzo, was in on the plan. It was a lovely gesture, one that I would always cherish and remember.
As all Sereno family gatherings go, we were up all night, singing karaoke while the menfolk played poker in the living room. By the time we left Selina's, the sun was already on the rise. We all proceeded to my brother-in-law, Simon's house, where we slept for a few hours before waking to a heavy, very satisfying brunch. Later that day, we went back to Selina's to help her effectively deal with her leftover problem.
Now that I think of it, I guess we've been celebrating my birthday for over a week already. Last Sunday, Lorenzo took me to the mall to buy me a whole new Spring wardrobe. My maternity clothes desperately needed updating, having had their roots in Lance's pregnancy, more than five years ago. Maternity fashions have certainly gone a long way since the Laura Ashley look was in vogue. When I was pregnant with Max in '92, I never would've imagined myself wearing low-rise maternity jeans!
During the week, we also took Lance and Troy to the beach. Troy has never been to the beach and Lance barely remembers his one-and-only beach trip, when we took him to Santa Cruz when he was just 18 months old. This time, we went to Monterey, just a short drive from Salinas, CA, Lorenzo's first home when they moved to the States. The original plan was to go to the beach first and to Daddy's old house later.
(BEACH BOYS: Lance, Troy and Lorenzo.)
Lance and Troy had a wonderful time digging in the sand with their shovels and pails. They loved getting their feet wet in the cold sea water. There were warnings posted all over about rogue waves, so we didn't let them go in too far. Even with these precautions, a naughty wave got to us, wetting my new cropped jeans, another addition to my Spring wardrobe.
(Mommy, Troy and Lance before the naughty wave got us!)
When it was time to go, all plans of going to Salinas flew out the window. We all decided we hadn't had enough of Monterey just yet. The combination of mountains and crashing surf had woven its spell upon us. Good thing we picked up one of those ubiquitous traveller's coupon books during a pit stop. We figured it would come in handy in case we decided to spend the night. Lorenzo and I have always been spontaneous vacationers, and it was not unusual for us to stay out-of-town overnight just on a whim.
I checked out available lodging in the area, and found what looked like a really charming place, the Carmel Resort Inn. "Quaint cottages nestled in the pines," it said. I checked out the rate and did a double-take. I couldn't believe I actually found such a modest rate for lodging at Carmel-by-the-Sea, Clint Eastwood's former enclave. A community that was so snooty it actually banned fast-food places and neon lights.
A quick glance at the amenities revealed the usual pool and spa, as well as the requisite coffee-maker and microwave and (what's this?) popcorn in every room. "Hmmm...the kids would like that", I thought, reading on, "and free breakfast too!". And then I saw the best come-on so far: "Fireplace in every cottage", and I was sold.
I called the number, half expecting to be told there was a typo in the advertised rate, and anyway, they were fully booked. To my relief, I was told they did have vacancies, and yes, they would honor the coupon. We wasted no time in getting there, and found the most charming place imaginable.
(Our quaint cottage at Carmel Resort Inn.)
This place was reminiscent of another cottage at another mountain sea resort I stayed in, the Marbella Beach Club at the Costa del Sol in Spain. Of course, this cottage cost us a mere fraction of what we paid nine years ago in Marbella, but the clientele seemed just as upscale. Upon seeing the Mercedes parked discreetly by the cottage next to us, and the Corvette parked not so discreetly behind ours, Lorenzo and I were glad we decided to take Tibby, our "dating car", instead of Vanna, our minivan.
(TIBBY, our "Dating Car".)
We checked out the place and quickly checked in, settling ourselves before dinner. I took full advantage of our fireplace, hanging my damp jeans over the mantel to dry them faster. Lance and Troy explored every nook and cranny of our cottage while Lorenzo and I decided where to have dinner. It was important that we find a place soon, because our comfy quarters were starting to lull us into a somnolent state.
I was starting to smell something vaguely familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. It was a "homey" scent from my past, something that brought me back to my younger days. And then I realized it was the smell of clothes being ironed. I started to ask Lorenzo if he could smell the same "bagong-plantsa" smell when I remembered my jeans in front of the fireplace. I made a beeline for the hearth but it was too late. My brand-new cropped jeans, the ones we had just bought the day before, were singed at the hem. "Oh well", I rationalized, "at least I now have a souvenir of my stay in Carmel!"
That broke the spell, and we all realized we were hungry. It was also getting quite late. We decided to head for Fisherman's Wharf. With its many seafood restaurants, there was bound to be at least one that was still open. When we got there, we chose an Italian seafood place called "Rappa's", right at the end of the pier. Our booth had a lovely view of the water. Lorenzo had the salmon linguini and I had the baby shrimp spaghettini, both specials for the evening. They were divinely delicious. Troy was also in a seafood mood, ordering popcorn shrimp, but Lance, ever the landlubber, had his usual grilled cheese.
(Lance and Mommy at Rappa's, Fisherman's Wharf, Monterey, CA.)
After Rappa's, we went to catch the candy factory, one of our usual haunts in Monterey. We got pink and purple cotton candy (Lorenzo's favorite) and some peanut brittle. We didn't get fudge this time, since the one I got during my last visit was too sweet. Instead, I settled on a chocolate-covered strawberry for my dessert. I nearly balked when I saw the price: $2.95 a piece. "At this price, those strawberries should be as big as my fist!" a voice inside me said, but my inner tourist won. People DO tend to splurge when they're on vacation, and the strawberry WAS superb.
After dinner, we took a drive down the coast. The weather was so mild that we were able to keep the sun roof open. We checked out the immediate vicinity, driving through nearby Pacific Grove before finding ourselves back in Carmel. When we got back to our cottage, we all had warm baths while waiting for "The Road to Perdition" on HBO. We hadn't seen the movie, and it was a perfect opportunity to try out our in-room popcorn maker. It was one of those old-fashioned ones which used hot air to pop the kernels. Lance was so excited to see the newly-popped corn spill out into the waiting bowl. He fell asleep in the middle of the movie, and we moved him to his bed.
The next day, we woke up bright and early and availed of the free breakfast offered at the resort. Then we went back to our cottage, where Lance and Troy watched PBS kids while Mommy and Daddy packed our belongings. We checked out at noon, proceeding to Pebble Beach to take the famous 17-mile-drive. The houses were beautiful and the views were awesome. We drove from the mountains, down to the coast and back, taking lots of pictures along the way.
(Lance, Troy and Daddy, 17-Mile Drive, Pebble Beach, CA.)
After that, we took our planned trip to Salinas, where Lorenzo showed Lance and Troy around his old neighborhood. Daddy took us to see his old school, and then we proceeded to his former home. The house was right in front of a park which featured an old locomotive when he still lived there. To the kids' disappointment, the old train was gone, so we cheered them up by taking them to Denny's instead. And then we settled down for the long drive back to Modesto, away from the mountains and the beaches. But it was okay, because we knew they were just a memory away.
Later that week, Lorenzo would give me another birthday present, Ralph Lauren's new Tender Notes, a limited "summer" edition of his Romance perfume. I love the scent, so light yet sweet, and very, very feminine. He also got me a beautiful birthday card, with words that etched themselves onto my heart. Oh, I love my husband so much!
I really enjoyed this birthday, and the weeklong celebration which came with it. I loved the clothes and the perfume, and my husband's beautiful birthday card. I appreciated the birthday party and baby shower, and all my family's love and care that went with it. And I treasure that unexpected little trip which we took on a whim, because we were up early and the weather was beautiful.
(A HAPPY FAMILY: the best gift a girl could ever get!)
This is getting to be a tradition. Last year, we checked into the Crowne Plaza in Milpitas for my birthday and ate nothing but Asian food: Thai for dinner the first night, a Malaysian lunch with the kids while Lorenzo was at work, and for my birthday dinner, Todai's Japanese buffet, with all the sushi, lobster and snow crab legs you can eat!
This is why I simply adore birthdays. They give us all an excuse to feel special once a year.
I wish to thank everyone who made this birthday so memorable. My husband, Lorenzo, for being so thoughtful; my kids, Lance and Troy, who brighten up my life just by being there; my son, Max, for his long-distance greetings from Palm Springs and Toronto; my sister, Maya and her husband, Charlie, for sending me a birthday text message; my Mom, who called me from New York and spent almost four hours "just talking" on the phone with me; and the Sereno women, for taking the time and effort to throw a birthday party/baby shower for their "manugang/hipag".
I also wanted to mention everyone who took the time to greet me through my websites: perskasins BatJay and BatJet, Christine, Tet, Joey, PB, Pinayhekmi, Ayeza, Tanya, Ka Rodge, Mona, AnP and SM.
Thank you all, for remembering my birthday. I am truly touched and honored.
(My 36th Birthday Getaway, Monterey Peninsula, CA.)
Today I turn 36.
Thirty-six. Sounds so serious. I can't believe I'm halfway past the fourth decade of my life. That's three whole cycles of the Year of the Monkey.
Yet it doesn't feel so bad to be 36. I guess it's hard to feel miserable when you're surrounded by people who care about you. My birthday celebration has been ongoing all weekend. Yesterday, we had a joint birthday celebration/ BABY SHOWER at my sister-in-law, Selina's house. I knew about the birthday party, a joint one for my niece, Katie and me, but the baby shower was meant as a surprise. My mother-in-law and sisters-in-law were all co-conspirators, and even my husband, Lorenzo, was in on the plan. It was a lovely gesture, one that I would always cherish and remember.
As all Sereno family gatherings go, we were up all night, singing karaoke while the menfolk played poker in the living room. By the time we left Selina's, the sun was already on the rise. We all proceeded to my brother-in-law, Simon's house, where we slept for a few hours before waking to a heavy, very satisfying brunch. Later that day, we went back to Selina's to help her effectively deal with her leftover problem.
Now that I think of it, I guess we've been celebrating my birthday for over a week already. Last Sunday, Lorenzo took me to the mall to buy me a whole new Spring wardrobe. My maternity clothes desperately needed updating, having had their roots in Lance's pregnancy, more than five years ago. Maternity fashions have certainly gone a long way since the Laura Ashley look was in vogue. When I was pregnant with Max in '92, I never would've imagined myself wearing low-rise maternity jeans!
During the week, we also took Lance and Troy to the beach. Troy has never been to the beach and Lance barely remembers his one-and-only beach trip, when we took him to Santa Cruz when he was just 18 months old. This time, we went to Monterey, just a short drive from Salinas, CA, Lorenzo's first home when they moved to the States. The original plan was to go to the beach first and to Daddy's old house later.
(BEACH BOYS: Lance, Troy and Lorenzo.)
Lance and Troy had a wonderful time digging in the sand with their shovels and pails. They loved getting their feet wet in the cold sea water. There were warnings posted all over about rogue waves, so we didn't let them go in too far. Even with these precautions, a naughty wave got to us, wetting my new cropped jeans, another addition to my Spring wardrobe.
(Mommy, Troy and Lance before the naughty wave got us!)
When it was time to go, all plans of going to Salinas flew out the window. We all decided we hadn't had enough of Monterey just yet. The combination of mountains and crashing surf had woven its spell upon us. Good thing we picked up one of those ubiquitous traveller's coupon books during a pit stop. We figured it would come in handy in case we decided to spend the night. Lorenzo and I have always been spontaneous vacationers, and it was not unusual for us to stay out-of-town overnight just on a whim.
I checked out available lodging in the area, and found what looked like a really charming place, the Carmel Resort Inn. "Quaint cottages nestled in the pines," it said. I checked out the rate and did a double-take. I couldn't believe I actually found such a modest rate for lodging at Carmel-by-the-Sea, Clint Eastwood's former enclave. A community that was so snooty it actually banned fast-food places and neon lights.
A quick glance at the amenities revealed the usual pool and spa, as well as the requisite coffee-maker and microwave and (what's this?) popcorn in every room. "Hmmm...the kids would like that", I thought, reading on, "and free breakfast too!". And then I saw the best come-on so far: "Fireplace in every cottage", and I was sold.
I called the number, half expecting to be told there was a typo in the advertised rate, and anyway, they were fully booked. To my relief, I was told they did have vacancies, and yes, they would honor the coupon. We wasted no time in getting there, and found the most charming place imaginable.
(Our quaint cottage at Carmel Resort Inn.)
This place was reminiscent of another cottage at another mountain sea resort I stayed in, the Marbella Beach Club at the Costa del Sol in Spain. Of course, this cottage cost us a mere fraction of what we paid nine years ago in Marbella, but the clientele seemed just as upscale. Upon seeing the Mercedes parked discreetly by the cottage next to us, and the Corvette parked not so discreetly behind ours, Lorenzo and I were glad we decided to take Tibby, our "dating car", instead of Vanna, our minivan.
(TIBBY, our "Dating Car".)
We checked out the place and quickly checked in, settling ourselves before dinner. I took full advantage of our fireplace, hanging my damp jeans over the mantel to dry them faster. Lance and Troy explored every nook and cranny of our cottage while Lorenzo and I decided where to have dinner. It was important that we find a place soon, because our comfy quarters were starting to lull us into a somnolent state.
I was starting to smell something vaguely familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. It was a "homey" scent from my past, something that brought me back to my younger days. And then I realized it was the smell of clothes being ironed. I started to ask Lorenzo if he could smell the same "bagong-plantsa" smell when I remembered my jeans in front of the fireplace. I made a beeline for the hearth but it was too late. My brand-new cropped jeans, the ones we had just bought the day before, were singed at the hem. "Oh well", I rationalized, "at least I now have a souvenir of my stay in Carmel!"
That broke the spell, and we all realized we were hungry. It was also getting quite late. We decided to head for Fisherman's Wharf. With its many seafood restaurants, there was bound to be at least one that was still open. When we got there, we chose an Italian seafood place called "Rappa's", right at the end of the pier. Our booth had a lovely view of the water. Lorenzo had the salmon linguini and I had the baby shrimp spaghettini, both specials for the evening. They were divinely delicious. Troy was also in a seafood mood, ordering popcorn shrimp, but Lance, ever the landlubber, had his usual grilled cheese.
(Lance and Mommy at Rappa's, Fisherman's Wharf, Monterey, CA.)
After Rappa's, we went to catch the candy factory, one of our usual haunts in Monterey. We got pink and purple cotton candy (Lorenzo's favorite) and some peanut brittle. We didn't get fudge this time, since the one I got during my last visit was too sweet. Instead, I settled on a chocolate-covered strawberry for my dessert. I nearly balked when I saw the price: $2.95 a piece. "At this price, those strawberries should be as big as my fist!" a voice inside me said, but my inner tourist won. People DO tend to splurge when they're on vacation, and the strawberry WAS superb.
After dinner, we took a drive down the coast. The weather was so mild that we were able to keep the sun roof open. We checked out the immediate vicinity, driving through nearby Pacific Grove before finding ourselves back in Carmel. When we got back to our cottage, we all had warm baths while waiting for "The Road to Perdition" on HBO. We hadn't seen the movie, and it was a perfect opportunity to try out our in-room popcorn maker. It was one of those old-fashioned ones which used hot air to pop the kernels. Lance was so excited to see the newly-popped corn spill out into the waiting bowl. He fell asleep in the middle of the movie, and we moved him to his bed.
The next day, we woke up bright and early and availed of the free breakfast offered at the resort. Then we went back to our cottage, where Lance and Troy watched PBS kids while Mommy and Daddy packed our belongings. We checked out at noon, proceeding to Pebble Beach to take the famous 17-mile-drive. The houses were beautiful and the views were awesome. We drove from the mountains, down to the coast and back, taking lots of pictures along the way.
(Lance, Troy and Daddy, 17-Mile Drive, Pebble Beach, CA.)
After that, we took our planned trip to Salinas, where Lorenzo showed Lance and Troy around his old neighborhood. Daddy took us to see his old school, and then we proceeded to his former home. The house was right in front of a park which featured an old locomotive when he still lived there. To the kids' disappointment, the old train was gone, so we cheered them up by taking them to Denny's instead. And then we settled down for the long drive back to Modesto, away from the mountains and the beaches. But it was okay, because we knew they were just a memory away.
Later that week, Lorenzo would give me another birthday present, Ralph Lauren's new Tender Notes, a limited "summer" edition of his Romance perfume. I love the scent, so light yet sweet, and very, very feminine. He also got me a beautiful birthday card, with words that etched themselves onto my heart. Oh, I love my husband so much!
I really enjoyed this birthday, and the weeklong celebration which came with it. I loved the clothes and the perfume, and my husband's beautiful birthday card. I appreciated the birthday party and baby shower, and all my family's love and care that went with it. And I treasure that unexpected little trip which we took on a whim, because we were up early and the weather was beautiful.
(A HAPPY FAMILY: the best gift a girl could ever get!)
This is getting to be a tradition. Last year, we checked into the Crowne Plaza in Milpitas for my birthday and ate nothing but Asian food: Thai for dinner the first night, a Malaysian lunch with the kids while Lorenzo was at work, and for my birthday dinner, Todai's Japanese buffet, with all the sushi, lobster and snow crab legs you can eat!
This is why I simply adore birthdays. They give us all an excuse to feel special once a year.
I wish to thank everyone who made this birthday so memorable. My husband, Lorenzo, for being so thoughtful; my kids, Lance and Troy, who brighten up my life just by being there; my son, Max, for his long-distance greetings from Palm Springs and Toronto; my sister, Maya and her husband, Charlie, for sending me a birthday text message; my Mom, who called me from New York and spent almost four hours "just talking" on the phone with me; and the Sereno women, for taking the time and effort to throw a birthday party/baby shower for their "manugang/hipag".
I also wanted to mention everyone who took the time to greet me through my websites: perskasins BatJay and BatJet, Christine, Tet, Joey, PB, Pinayhekmi, Ayeza, Tanya, Ka Rodge, Mona, AnP and SM.
Thank you all, for remembering my birthday. I am truly touched and honored.
Tuesday, March 23, 2004
TROY MEETS DR. QUACK-QUACK
Troy, my sweet little toddler, has been under the weather lately. Last Thursday night, his temperature went up to 102.8. I gave him his usual Tylenol, hoping this would take care of it, but when he woke up, it wasn't much better at 102.4.
I wasn't too worried, because his usual sunny demeanor was unaffected. I attributed his fever to teething, since I felt his gums and there were telltale bumps at both ends of his lower jaw. Lorenzo and I treated the kids to breakfast at McDonald's, where Troy ate with his usual gusto. After our meal, we proceeded to Lance's pre-school. It was their last day of school before a month-long spring break, and they were celebrating with a family kite-flying picnic.
Troy was excited to be out with his kuya's classmates. He raided Lance's brown bagged lunch and came up with an apple. Troy and I have a system when it comes to unpeeled apples away from the homefront. Troy would pass the apple to Mommy so I can take a bite, and then I would pass the apple back to Troy and he would gnaw at the naked patch, passing the apple back to me for another bite so I could take more of the pesky skin off.
Between the two of us, we decimated the red delicious down to the very core while Lance and Daddy tried to fly Lance's school-made kite, which he decorated with squiggles of paint. (Actually, it was a Daddy-made kite, since Lorenzo was a parent volunteer the day before, assigned to make the kids' kites.) Lance was having a hard time because his kite wouldn't stay aloft. Daddy made some design adjustments using Mommy's earring, which he used to poke more holes into the kite so he could thread the string more strategically.
Troy was still in high spirits when the class went back in for some indoor activities. He watched videos beside his kuya, participated in the music circle, and even made his own police car with paper and glue. But when snack time came, the fever returned and he wasn't his old self anymore.
By the time I took him to the Urgent Care clinic, his fever had escalated to 103.9. By then, my poor baby was miserable, and the dreaded doctor's office was the last place he wanted to be in. He started crying when they put him on the scale, and didn't stop until the doctor came in to see him. The following is a transcript of my conversation with Doctor Quack-Quack.
DR. Q: What symptoms does he have?
RENEE: Just a persistent fever. His temperature's been anywhere between 102.4 and 103.9 for the last 24 hours. Tylenol doesn't seem to help because it comes right back again.
Dr. Q: I have to have more to go on than that. Otherwise, I'd have to send you to the Emergency Room, and that's easily a 10 to 12 hour wait.
RENEE: Well, he doesn't really have any other symptoms.
Dr. Q: I don't know if you'd noticed, but he's already coughed three or four times since we started talking. Has he been coughing at all today? (He looks in Troy's ear. By this time, poor Troy was hysterical)
RENEE: No, he's coughing 'cause he's crying.
DR. Q: I also noticed that his nose is runny and he has some mucus in there. Was he sneezing at all today?
RENEE: His brother had a kite-flying activity at school. He was sneezing a bit, but it was more like an allergy than anything else.
DR. Q: See, you weren't telling me about the sneezing as a symptom because you already decided for yourself that it was an allergy.
RENEE: His sneezing stopped as soon as we went inside. That's why I was quite sure it was an allergy. I didn't hear him sneeze any more after that.
DR. Q: Well, I have to have more to go on than just a fever.
RENEE (napipikon na): And I'm not about to manufacture any symptoms just so we could come to a convenient diagnosis. How do his ears look?
DR. Q: They're bloodshot.
RENEE: Meaning they're red?
DR. Q: Well, they're not red, but the blood vessels are quite constricted.
RENEE: Could teething account for the fever?
DR. Q: Teething CAN cause high fevers, but they're usually more evanescent, you know, like more short-lived.
(I oh-so-wanted to say "I know what evanescent means, you condescending @*&$%!" but I just held my tongue.)
DR. Q: Anyway, I'm just gonna write it down as an upper-respiratory infection 'cause he's quite congested, and he might just be starting to cough and sneeze.
Dr. Quack-Quack jots down a prescription for some albuterol (a broncho-dilator), guaifenessin (for coughing) and acetaminophen (for fever) and hands it to me with a smile, saying:
"One thing your son's got going for him is a very sophisticated Mom. I'm sure you're so attuned to him that you'd be able to pick up any subtle changes that come along."
At nambola pa'ng kumag!
(POSTSCRIPT: Troy's fever lasted a couple more days. We let him sleep with us while he was sick, so we could monitor him more closely. He hardly slept at night, which rendered Mommy and Daddy zombie-like for most of the weekend. Very early Sunday morning, after much tossing and turning, we heard a little voice say, "My ear hurts." Sure enough, poor Troy woke up the next day with an angry red ear. We brought him back to the same clinic, where another doctor saw him. This time, we got a prescription for the proper diagnosis, an ear infection. And now Troy's back to his sunny self again.)
Troy, my sweet little toddler, has been under the weather lately. Last Thursday night, his temperature went up to 102.8. I gave him his usual Tylenol, hoping this would take care of it, but when he woke up, it wasn't much better at 102.4.
I wasn't too worried, because his usual sunny demeanor was unaffected. I attributed his fever to teething, since I felt his gums and there were telltale bumps at both ends of his lower jaw. Lorenzo and I treated the kids to breakfast at McDonald's, where Troy ate with his usual gusto. After our meal, we proceeded to Lance's pre-school. It was their last day of school before a month-long spring break, and they were celebrating with a family kite-flying picnic.
Troy was excited to be out with his kuya's classmates. He raided Lance's brown bagged lunch and came up with an apple. Troy and I have a system when it comes to unpeeled apples away from the homefront. Troy would pass the apple to Mommy so I can take a bite, and then I would pass the apple back to Troy and he would gnaw at the naked patch, passing the apple back to me for another bite so I could take more of the pesky skin off.
Between the two of us, we decimated the red delicious down to the very core while Lance and Daddy tried to fly Lance's school-made kite, which he decorated with squiggles of paint. (Actually, it was a Daddy-made kite, since Lorenzo was a parent volunteer the day before, assigned to make the kids' kites.) Lance was having a hard time because his kite wouldn't stay aloft. Daddy made some design adjustments using Mommy's earring, which he used to poke more holes into the kite so he could thread the string more strategically.
Troy was still in high spirits when the class went back in for some indoor activities. He watched videos beside his kuya, participated in the music circle, and even made his own police car with paper and glue. But when snack time came, the fever returned and he wasn't his old self anymore.
By the time I took him to the Urgent Care clinic, his fever had escalated to 103.9. By then, my poor baby was miserable, and the dreaded doctor's office was the last place he wanted to be in. He started crying when they put him on the scale, and didn't stop until the doctor came in to see him. The following is a transcript of my conversation with Doctor Quack-Quack.
DR. Q: What symptoms does he have?
RENEE: Just a persistent fever. His temperature's been anywhere between 102.4 and 103.9 for the last 24 hours. Tylenol doesn't seem to help because it comes right back again.
Dr. Q: I have to have more to go on than that. Otherwise, I'd have to send you to the Emergency Room, and that's easily a 10 to 12 hour wait.
RENEE: Well, he doesn't really have any other symptoms.
Dr. Q: I don't know if you'd noticed, but he's already coughed three or four times since we started talking. Has he been coughing at all today? (He looks in Troy's ear. By this time, poor Troy was hysterical)
RENEE: No, he's coughing 'cause he's crying.
DR. Q: I also noticed that his nose is runny and he has some mucus in there. Was he sneezing at all today?
RENEE: His brother had a kite-flying activity at school. He was sneezing a bit, but it was more like an allergy than anything else.
DR. Q: See, you weren't telling me about the sneezing as a symptom because you already decided for yourself that it was an allergy.
RENEE: His sneezing stopped as soon as we went inside. That's why I was quite sure it was an allergy. I didn't hear him sneeze any more after that.
DR. Q: Well, I have to have more to go on than just a fever.
RENEE (napipikon na): And I'm not about to manufacture any symptoms just so we could come to a convenient diagnosis. How do his ears look?
DR. Q: They're bloodshot.
RENEE: Meaning they're red?
DR. Q: Well, they're not red, but the blood vessels are quite constricted.
RENEE: Could teething account for the fever?
DR. Q: Teething CAN cause high fevers, but they're usually more evanescent, you know, like more short-lived.
(I oh-so-wanted to say "I know what evanescent means, you condescending @*&$%!" but I just held my tongue.)
DR. Q: Anyway, I'm just gonna write it down as an upper-respiratory infection 'cause he's quite congested, and he might just be starting to cough and sneeze.
Dr. Quack-Quack jots down a prescription for some albuterol (a broncho-dilator), guaifenessin (for coughing) and acetaminophen (for fever) and hands it to me with a smile, saying:
"One thing your son's got going for him is a very sophisticated Mom. I'm sure you're so attuned to him that you'd be able to pick up any subtle changes that come along."
At nambola pa'ng kumag!
(POSTSCRIPT: Troy's fever lasted a couple more days. We let him sleep with us while he was sick, so we could monitor him more closely. He hardly slept at night, which rendered Mommy and Daddy zombie-like for most of the weekend. Very early Sunday morning, after much tossing and turning, we heard a little voice say, "My ear hurts." Sure enough, poor Troy woke up the next day with an angry red ear. We brought him back to the same clinic, where another doctor saw him. This time, we got a prescription for the proper diagnosis, an ear infection. And now Troy's back to his sunny self again.)
Sunday, February 29, 2004
THE NAME GAME
I've been receiving comments on my websites, asking about my true identity. It seems the term "newsbabe", which I fashioned to alter the more frumpy-sounding "newshen", has titillated it's own share of mildly curious readers. Well, to set the record straight, I am now dishing the dirt on Prada Mama, the gabby newsbabe behind Pansitan.net's "87 GENTLE STREET" and "The Prada Mama Chronicles".
First of all, I would like to officially declare my disdain for the word "newshen", which conjures up images of fat, dumpy, bespectacled women behind typewriters. Whoever coined this term deserves to be shackled to a noisy teletype machine. I much prefer the title "news personality", thank you.
It was a chance encounter at the UP sunken garden which determined my destiny: I was walking to our "Home", the sorority house of UP Delta Lambda Sigma, when I bumped into a fellow-Deltan, Coco Quisumbing, who was then the sexy voice behind "Coco Q" of RK96-FM. After the prescribed beso-beso, she asked me if I was interested in her job because she was moving to another radio station in Cebu. Coco would later become my best friend in the world among other things, CNBC Asia news anchor included, but that's another story.
I can't believe I was only 17 when it all began. I started out by doing radio news, completing my on-air training in RK96 and 101.1 KISS-FM in the mid-80's before doing newscasting for FM stations like NU-107 and 99.5 RT. In radio circles, I was known by the name "Rima", my real-life nickname.
After five years in radio, I decided I had mustered up enough confidence to try my luck at TV newscasting. I auditioned for, and was accepted as weekend news anchor for RPN News. My new boss at the time, Channel 9's Frank Abao, decided he preferred my baptismal name, "Renee", because it sounded more formal. Not too many people agreed. Korina Sanchez, who was one of the first people I called after landing the job, said she preferred "Rima" because "Renee" sounded too much like "a model's name", but it was my boss' opinion that counted, so I made my television debut under the name "Renee de los Santos".
So there I was, at the young age of 21, finally doing Gulf War updates alongside my former news idols, Harry Gasser, and of course, my sorority "sis", Coco Quisumbing. Even though I was officially hired as weekend news anchor, I was often called to pinch-hit during the week, co-anchoring with Charlie Ysmael and Kathy Santillan. It was also a source of our sorority's pride that aside from Coco and me, another Deltan was in Channel 9's news lineup: Cielo Villaluna, whom I would later join in anchoring "NewsWatch EveningCast".
When I first started at RPN News, I was known by my maiden name, de los Santos. After a couple of years, I left for the States, Canada and Europe, taking a three-year hiatus to get married and raise a family. When I returned in late 1995, I was blessed to regain my weekend anchor position almost immediately. By then, I was known by my married name, Renee Caplan. In a couple of months, another RPN news anchor, Cristina Peczon, would resign from her post, relinquishing the plum prime-time co-anchor seat to me!
I couldn't believe my luck. I had gone full-circle, from radio neophyte, to TV ingenue, to relative obscurity as a young wife and mother abroad, and finally, a triumphant return as co-anchor of Channel 9's "NewsWatch EveningCast"!
Our show was the only English newscast in its time slot, so most of our viewers were expats and the AB crowd. However, when RPN's former GM-turned Congressman Jose Mari Gonzalez, scheduled the Mexican telenovela "Marimar" after our show, we managed to grab a monster share of the viewing market, even besting "TV Patrol" at one point. ABS-CBN soon became savvy, adding other Thalia starrers to their lineup, and we were once again relegated to high-brow obscurity.
My ex-husband and I ended up divorcing after six years of marriage, but I kept on using the name Caplan. However, by the time I left Channel 9 to go back to the States for good, I was already known by my present name, Renee Sereno. By then, I had met and fallen in love with my present husband, Lorenzo, (aka Lapu-lapu, see "About"), and we were going to the States to have our baby, Lance. In October 1999, I filed for maternity leave from RPN News and never returned.
After Lance was born, I decided to try my hand at broadcasting here in the U.S.. I was blessed to be hired as stand-in producer and anchor of "The Filipino Report", a daily newscast produced by KTSF-TV26 in San Francisco. The show was geared toward the Filipino market in the Bay Area, and it received heavy viewership due to its time slot between "TV Patrol" and "Balitang K". Looking back, it now strikes me as ironic that the first time I ever produced and delivered a newscast in Tagalog was when I finally moved to the US.
So there you have it, a brief glimpse into Prada Mama's persona, and her many names that go with it. These days, I am simply known as "Mommy", (or as Lorenzo sometimes teases me, "Preggy"), content to while away my days at home in Modesto, CA, away from the lights, cameras and wire services. My life now revolves around my husband, our two boys, Lance and Troy, and our rescue Pit Bull, Spot. Together, we await the arrival of our newest family member, our first daughter, Reanna Loren, who will be ready for her close-up around June 4.
Of course, Lapu-lapu, the other half of this on-cam partnership, has his own stories to tell, but I will leave that for another time. Suffice it to say that my husband is the more recognizable of us two, having played the muscle-bound lead in a very popular commercial, uttering five words which would etch themselves into the threads of Filipino popular culture:
"Don't forget the muffins ha?"
(MORE SUGGESTED READING: TALES FROM THE NEWSROOM.)
I've been receiving comments on my websites, asking about my true identity. It seems the term "newsbabe", which I fashioned to alter the more frumpy-sounding "newshen", has titillated it's own share of mildly curious readers. Well, to set the record straight, I am now dishing the dirt on Prada Mama, the gabby newsbabe behind Pansitan.net's "87 GENTLE STREET" and "The Prada Mama Chronicles".
First of all, I would like to officially declare my disdain for the word "newshen", which conjures up images of fat, dumpy, bespectacled women behind typewriters. Whoever coined this term deserves to be shackled to a noisy teletype machine. I much prefer the title "news personality", thank you.
It was a chance encounter at the UP sunken garden which determined my destiny: I was walking to our "Home", the sorority house of UP Delta Lambda Sigma, when I bumped into a fellow-Deltan, Coco Quisumbing, who was then the sexy voice behind "Coco Q" of RK96-FM. After the prescribed beso-beso, she asked me if I was interested in her job because she was moving to another radio station in Cebu. Coco would later become my best friend in the world among other things, CNBC Asia news anchor included, but that's another story.
I can't believe I was only 17 when it all began. I started out by doing radio news, completing my on-air training in RK96 and 101.1 KISS-FM in the mid-80's before doing newscasting for FM stations like NU-107 and 99.5 RT. In radio circles, I was known by the name "Rima", my real-life nickname.
After five years in radio, I decided I had mustered up enough confidence to try my luck at TV newscasting. I auditioned for, and was accepted as weekend news anchor for RPN News. My new boss at the time, Channel 9's Frank Abao, decided he preferred my baptismal name, "Renee", because it sounded more formal. Not too many people agreed. Korina Sanchez, who was one of the first people I called after landing the job, said she preferred "Rima" because "Renee" sounded too much like "a model's name", but it was my boss' opinion that counted, so I made my television debut under the name "Renee de los Santos".
So there I was, at the young age of 21, finally doing Gulf War updates alongside my former news idols, Harry Gasser, and of course, my sorority "sis", Coco Quisumbing. Even though I was officially hired as weekend news anchor, I was often called to pinch-hit during the week, co-anchoring with Charlie Ysmael and Kathy Santillan. It was also a source of our sorority's pride that aside from Coco and me, another Deltan was in Channel 9's news lineup: Cielo Villaluna, whom I would later join in anchoring "NewsWatch EveningCast".
When I first started at RPN News, I was known by my maiden name, de los Santos. After a couple of years, I left for the States, Canada and Europe, taking a three-year hiatus to get married and raise a family. When I returned in late 1995, I was blessed to regain my weekend anchor position almost immediately. By then, I was known by my married name, Renee Caplan. In a couple of months, another RPN news anchor, Cristina Peczon, would resign from her post, relinquishing the plum prime-time co-anchor seat to me!
I couldn't believe my luck. I had gone full-circle, from radio neophyte, to TV ingenue, to relative obscurity as a young wife and mother abroad, and finally, a triumphant return as co-anchor of Channel 9's "NewsWatch EveningCast"!
Our show was the only English newscast in its time slot, so most of our viewers were expats and the AB crowd. However, when RPN's former GM-turned Congressman Jose Mari Gonzalez, scheduled the Mexican telenovela "Marimar" after our show, we managed to grab a monster share of the viewing market, even besting "TV Patrol" at one point. ABS-CBN soon became savvy, adding other Thalia starrers to their lineup, and we were once again relegated to high-brow obscurity.
My ex-husband and I ended up divorcing after six years of marriage, but I kept on using the name Caplan. However, by the time I left Channel 9 to go back to the States for good, I was already known by my present name, Renee Sereno. By then, I had met and fallen in love with my present husband, Lorenzo, (aka Lapu-lapu, see "About"), and we were going to the States to have our baby, Lance. In October 1999, I filed for maternity leave from RPN News and never returned.
After Lance was born, I decided to try my hand at broadcasting here in the U.S.. I was blessed to be hired as stand-in producer and anchor of "The Filipino Report", a daily newscast produced by KTSF-TV26 in San Francisco. The show was geared toward the Filipino market in the Bay Area, and it received heavy viewership due to its time slot between "TV Patrol" and "Balitang K". Looking back, it now strikes me as ironic that the first time I ever produced and delivered a newscast in Tagalog was when I finally moved to the US.
So there you have it, a brief glimpse into Prada Mama's persona, and her many names that go with it. These days, I am simply known as "Mommy", (or as Lorenzo sometimes teases me, "Preggy"), content to while away my days at home in Modesto, CA, away from the lights, cameras and wire services. My life now revolves around my husband, our two boys, Lance and Troy, and our rescue Pit Bull, Spot. Together, we await the arrival of our newest family member, our first daughter, Reanna Loren, who will be ready for her close-up around June 4.
Of course, Lapu-lapu, the other half of this on-cam partnership, has his own stories to tell, but I will leave that for another time. Suffice it to say that my husband is the more recognizable of us two, having played the muscle-bound lead in a very popular commercial, uttering five words which would etch themselves into the threads of Filipino popular culture:
"Don't forget the muffins ha?"
(MORE SUGGESTED READING: TALES FROM THE NEWSROOM.)
Wednesday, February 25, 2004
THE SWEETEST TABO
I have a shocking confession to make. I am probably the only Filipina unfamiliar with the tabo system. This was one of the many mysteries my mother failed to shed light upon during my formative years. As little girls, me and my sisters never had to use a tabo to cleanse ourelves after our private sessions en toilette. In 87 Gentle Street, we had bidets to take care of the dirty little details.
Everyone I knew had bidets in those days. Some of my friends had free-standing bidets. We had the more practical version, ingeniously incorporated into our porcelain bowls. I am referring to those gracefully curved water tubes discreetly tucked into the plumbing system, strategically positioned to shower a cleansing stream of water right where it matters most.
You can imagine my rude awakening when I first moved to the States. In all my years as a US resident, I have yet to find that familiar lavatory/bidet combination, so commonly seen in Manila. Sure, I've encountered free-standing bidets here, mostly in swank hotel rooms, but the average, run-of-the-mill single family home is usually equipped with the average, run-of-the-mill, standard-issue commode. The irony of it is that our toilet bowls back home were called American Standard!
Enter childbirth, and its many wonderful accessories. Each time I am sent home from the hospital with a brand new baby, I get a goody-bag along with my discharge papers. This bag usually contains some diapers, sterilized gauze, breast shields, a rectal thermometer, a suction bulb, and some formula samples. I feverishly root through all the freebies until I find the most important accessory of all: a cleansing bottle. Only then do I allow myself to be wheeled out of my room with my precious little bundle of joy.
To the uninitiated, a cleansing bottle looks quite unspectacular. In fact, it is nothing but a slim white plastic bottle, with one important exception: a directional spout. This enables new mothers to spray themselves with a soothing stream of water, gently washing away all traumatic traces of the birthing experience. I carefully kept both of my bottles after having Lance and Troy. These are now regular fixtures in my upstairs bathrooms, ready to fill at a moment's notice.
But my house has a third bathroom. A powder room downstairs. These days, I am forced to keep a bottle there, since I am too far along in my pregnancy to be rushing upstairs when nature calls. The other bottle is constantly juggled between my master bath and the children's bathroom, both located in our second floor. I don't mind the hassle. At almost 26 weeks gestation, I won't have to wait much before I complete my collection. Come June this year, all three of my bathrooms will be equipped with their own portable Bidet-in-a-Bottle.
The tabo system for the 21st century!
I have a shocking confession to make. I am probably the only Filipina unfamiliar with the tabo system. This was one of the many mysteries my mother failed to shed light upon during my formative years. As little girls, me and my sisters never had to use a tabo to cleanse ourelves after our private sessions en toilette. In 87 Gentle Street, we had bidets to take care of the dirty little details.
Everyone I knew had bidets in those days. Some of my friends had free-standing bidets. We had the more practical version, ingeniously incorporated into our porcelain bowls. I am referring to those gracefully curved water tubes discreetly tucked into the plumbing system, strategically positioned to shower a cleansing stream of water right where it matters most.
You can imagine my rude awakening when I first moved to the States. In all my years as a US resident, I have yet to find that familiar lavatory/bidet combination, so commonly seen in Manila. Sure, I've encountered free-standing bidets here, mostly in swank hotel rooms, but the average, run-of-the-mill single family home is usually equipped with the average, run-of-the-mill, standard-issue commode. The irony of it is that our toilet bowls back home were called American Standard!
Enter childbirth, and its many wonderful accessories. Each time I am sent home from the hospital with a brand new baby, I get a goody-bag along with my discharge papers. This bag usually contains some diapers, sterilized gauze, breast shields, a rectal thermometer, a suction bulb, and some formula samples. I feverishly root through all the freebies until I find the most important accessory of all: a cleansing bottle. Only then do I allow myself to be wheeled out of my room with my precious little bundle of joy.
To the uninitiated, a cleansing bottle looks quite unspectacular. In fact, it is nothing but a slim white plastic bottle, with one important exception: a directional spout. This enables new mothers to spray themselves with a soothing stream of water, gently washing away all traumatic traces of the birthing experience. I carefully kept both of my bottles after having Lance and Troy. These are now regular fixtures in my upstairs bathrooms, ready to fill at a moment's notice.
But my house has a third bathroom. A powder room downstairs. These days, I am forced to keep a bottle there, since I am too far along in my pregnancy to be rushing upstairs when nature calls. The other bottle is constantly juggled between my master bath and the children's bathroom, both located in our second floor. I don't mind the hassle. At almost 26 weeks gestation, I won't have to wait much before I complete my collection. Come June this year, all three of my bathrooms will be equipped with their own portable Bidet-in-a-Bottle.
The tabo system for the 21st century!
Wednesday, February 18, 2004
ONE DAY ISANG VALENTINE
For Valentine's Day, I wrote a tribute to my husband at 87 Gentle Street, entitled "Seven's A Charm (A Valentine's Diary Through the Years)".
After he read my lengthy love offering, Lorenzo turned to me with an rakish smile. He told me he was now inspired to write his own Valentine's diary. He said he would entitle it "Valentine's, Behind the Scenes".
Upon further questioning, my husband disclosed that it would be exactly like my diary, except he would detail EVERYTHING that happened when we were alone, after the Valentine celebrations were over!
Of course, his plans didn't get past the Board of Censors (aka his wife!). Instead, he wrote a very tender poem in his site, which he dedicated to me.
Now my husband is very shy when it comes to his poetry and prose, and I know how much of a struggle it is for him to bare his heart for all the world to see. He's come a long way, and I'm very proud of his efforts.
In this light, I would like to present to you "One Day Isang Araw". This is Lorenzo's verbal canvas, his showcase during those times when the muse ensnares him, and his only escape is to blog his way out!
Keep up the good work, my Love. I can't wait to read more!
For Valentine's Day, I wrote a tribute to my husband at 87 Gentle Street, entitled "Seven's A Charm (A Valentine's Diary Through the Years)".
After he read my lengthy love offering, Lorenzo turned to me with an rakish smile. He told me he was now inspired to write his own Valentine's diary. He said he would entitle it "Valentine's, Behind the Scenes".
Upon further questioning, my husband disclosed that it would be exactly like my diary, except he would detail EVERYTHING that happened when we were alone, after the Valentine celebrations were over!
Of course, his plans didn't get past the Board of Censors (aka his wife!). Instead, he wrote a very tender poem in his site, which he dedicated to me.
Now my husband is very shy when it comes to his poetry and prose, and I know how much of a struggle it is for him to bare his heart for all the world to see. He's come a long way, and I'm very proud of his efforts.
In this light, I would like to present to you "One Day Isang Araw". This is Lorenzo's verbal canvas, his showcase during those times when the muse ensnares him, and his only escape is to blog his way out!
Keep up the good work, my Love. I can't wait to read more!
Thursday, February 12, 2004
OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES
(OVERVIEW: After viewing my kids' favorite DVD, "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone", Lance, my precocious 4-year-old, was arguing with his 8-year-old cousin, Christa. They were having a heated discussion about how Harry Potter was able to break a bottle while trying out a new wand at Olivander's...)
LANCE (righteously indignant): It was magic!!!
CHRISTA (in her most know-it-all, I'm-four-years-older-than-you-tone): No it wasn't.
LANCE (getting more defensive): It was magic!!!
CHRISTA (in her smuggest tone yet): No. It was special effects. Someone shot the bottle when he waved his wand!
(Now who can argue with an 8-year-old's logic?)
(OVERVIEW: After viewing my kids' favorite DVD, "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone", Lance, my precocious 4-year-old, was arguing with his 8-year-old cousin, Christa. They were having a heated discussion about how Harry Potter was able to break a bottle while trying out a new wand at Olivander's...)
LANCE (righteously indignant): It was magic!!!
CHRISTA (in her most know-it-all, I'm-four-years-older-than-you-tone): No it wasn't.
LANCE (getting more defensive): It was magic!!!
CHRISTA (in her smuggest tone yet): No. It was special effects. Someone shot the bottle when he waved his wand!
(Now who can argue with an 8-year-old's logic?)
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