THE SHORT LIST




This will be short.

Sunday is fast approaching, which means Reanna's Baby Dedication ceremony is barely days away. As if that wasn't enough, my mother and sister are flying in from New York tomorrow, which is a sure indication that my husband and I are both in a mad scramble to get the house ready in time for their arrival.

Therefore, for this post, I have decided to introduce you to Reanna's roster of Godparents, mainly because it is a nice, safe, and most importantly, short topic to tackle, not that I think you'd find it particularly interesting, but to tell you the truth it was a choice between that and ranting about my dedication invitations, which I received from KINGDOM CARDS very LATE.

I mean, really, what am I supposed to do with FIFTY invitation cards, all of which need to be addressed, when they arrive late on a Saturday afternoon, way after the post office closes, and the next mailing date is the following MONDAY, less than a week before the actual event?

Okay Renee, don't even get started on that one...

And so for today we will tackle the safe and the mundane as I leave you with the interesting cast of characters who will be joining us at the altar on Sunday afternoon as we dedicate our baby to the Lord.

First off, the Godmothers, or Ninangs:

You've already met Brenda in my previous POST. Brenda is the daughter of my next-door neighbor, Marta. Brenda and I have gotten close through the years since we first moved to our house here in Modesto. I consider her to be a surrogate daughter of sorts. We used to go shopping together and she babysits my sons a lot. When Reanna was born, Brenda and her sisters, along with their mom, Marta, were among Reanna's first visitors at home.



Another early visitor was my friend, April, shown in the picture with my favorite niece, Katie, who will also be another ninang of Reanna's. April is one of the nicest and most upstanding people I know. She will be Reanna's principal godmother, joining my daughter's principal godfather in spirit, since Reanna's main ninong is all the way in Singapore. Guess who?




Yes, come Sunday, the famous BATJAY will not just be my Perskasin, he will also be my kumpare as well. Unfortunately, Jay and his wife, JET won't be able to make it to the ceremony, but we know they will be with us in spirit. Taking Jay's place in the ceremony is Reanna's other godfather, Lorenzo's Cambodian friend, Pony, shown here standing beside him.




Unfortunately, I don't have a picture of Reanna's last Godfather, my husband's cousin, Rod. This early, my sister-in-law Selina has already indicated that he might not set foot in the church because he is a devout follower of the Iglesia ni Kristo. I, for one, am not too familiar with the Iglesia's practices, but I hope this won't be the case. With BatJay all the way in Singapore, the male members of the party are outnumbered enough as it is.

So there you have it. The people who made it to the short list. Reanna's Godparents. People who, in theory, promise to raise our daughter in a proper Christian manner should anything, perchance, happen to both Lorenzo and me. I guess it is ironic that our list is comprised of three Roman Catholics, one Iglesia ni Kristo, one Cambodian Buddhist and only one other person (April) who is also Born-Again Christian like us.

But, for our purpose, even ONE is enough.


(PLUGGING: "Day 5: Redemption", the latest installment in my "ROYAL HOLIDAY" series at 87 GENTLE STREET.)

PARTY PRIMAVERA

Take a look at Reanna wearing her new sunsuit:





Yes, spring has finally broken here in Modesto. And what better way to enjoy the warm wonderful weather than with a party?

That's exactly what my next-door neighbors, Santiago and Marta Lopez, did for their daughter, Darlena, who turns seven today. Early Saturday morning, they rang our doorbell asking us if we minded having a bounce house partially perched on our front yard. Of course, we didn't object. We knew our sons would be two of its biggest customers!





It was a Dora the Explorer party, and Santiago and Marta whipped up a spread that was to die for. There was Mexican rice, refried beans and the yummiest carnitas this side of the border. Carnitas is a dish of roasted pork prepared similar to Filipino lechon kawali, crisp on the outside and fork-tender on the inside. But Marta's carnitas were tasty enough to be eaten alone, with no side of liver sauce needed. I did, however, indulge on the optional spicy hot pickled jalapenos and carrots while Reanna had her fill of the corn tortillas.

Lance and Troy were busily running from the bounce house in the front yard to the swing set in the back yard. When they got bored, they entertained themselves by running after Darlena's dog, Brownie, a chocolate brown Chihuahua. Finally around sunset, my two boys channeled their excess energy on the two pinatas filled with candy, which of course promptly replaced the very energy they used up hacking at the darn things.

And then the kids gathered around the Dora the Explorer cake while Darlena blew out all seven of her candles. It was a moment which took on a deeper significance. It was just barely a year ago when this beautiful little girl practically withered to skin and bones before they finally discovered that her mysterious malady was Type 1 Juvenile Onset Diabetes.




Darlena's Dora cake was a tres leches cake and it was delicious. Tres leches is a white cake infused with three different kinds of milk, hence the name. It was moist and not too sweet, just suited to my taste. I liked it so much I decided to order a tres leches cake for Reanna's Baby Dedication ceremony next Sunday.

Of course, the Lopezes wil be present for that one too, not just because I am returning the invitation, but also because their oldest girl, Brenda, (seen above carrying Reanna), will be one of my daughter's ninangs. I have come to see Brenda as part of our family. She babysits the boys for me quite often, and she also used to be the girlfriend of my stepson, CHRIS.

It was getting late. Soon my boys were wound up tight as clocksprings from all the pinata candy they consumed. When Lance started throwing up from all the excitement, we knew it was time to go. It wasn't long before the sugar high gave in to a sugar low and soon my two little tykes were fast asleep...

...all tuckered out from partying with the girl next door!


(PLUGGING: "Day 5: Redemption", the latest installment in my "ROYAL HOLIDAY" series at 87 GENTLE STREET.)

OF MOTHERS AND DAUGHTERS




My Mom and I can totally relate to "The Gilmore Girls".

I love the cool relationship shared by the mother and daughter in the show. In a way, the Gilmores remind me of my mother's side of the family. In fact, like the Gilmores, "The Gaerlan Girls" also have quite a formidable matriarch in my grandmother, Elvira.

Now, I love my Lola very much, but I would be lying if I didn't say she drove everyone around her batty. She will be turning 84 this year and from what I hear, she is still as glamorous and alembong as ever.

The Gaerlans are a family of very strong women, which can sometimes result in fractious mother-daughter relationships. But I'm sure all of us started out with the best of intentions. It took my having a little girl of my own to make me realize how important it is to bond with your daughter right from the beginning. My Mom had three of us girls. She knows what I'm talking about.

There is something so precious about having a daughter, a miniature version of you, your very own "mini-me". I guess what makes it even more special for me is the fact that I bore three boys before her, and had actually given up on ever having a girl. But now, I won't be outnumbered as much, and it gives me great pleasure to know I will soon be blowing the dust off all my chick flicks, which are back in commission again.

Indeed, in just a few months, my little girl will be watching "Annie", "The Sound of Music" and "My Fair Lady" with me. Add a few years and she will be kicking up her heels to the tune of "One" in "A Chorus Line" and singing dreamily about Yenta the Matchmaker in "Fiddler on the Roof". I will, however, hold off on introducing her to my favorite musicals, "Pippin", "Evita" and "Miss Saigon", which discuss sex far too openly for my comfort.

My Mom was my constant theater companion when I was younger. She would always have Rep season tickets, back when Repertory Philippines still had its home at the Insular Life building in Makati. We used to watch a lot of movies together too. I remember seeing "Witness", "Legal Eagles" and "Chances Are" with her, along with a whole slew of Brat Pack movies too cheesy to mention.

And then there was the ballet. The first ballet my Mom took me to watch was "Giselle" at the Cultural Center of the Philippines. I was still in sixth grade then, and I remember being quite sullen when she insisted that I wear one of her dresses and some high-heeled shoes. When we got to the CCP however, I bumped into a classmate of mine who looked just as uncomfortable in a dress and high heels. She even told me I looked nice. Suddenly I didn't feel so alone anymore, and I was able to let go of my self-consciousness enough to watch the show and actually enjoy it.

Among the Mother-Daughter things I liked the most was working out with my Mom, who got me a membership at Slimmer's World in Malate. I used to head straight to Manila after my last class at U.P. Diliman and meet her at her office in Roxas Blvd.. Then we would make our way to work out at Echelon Tower, where the old Slimmer's World gym was located. Of course, we usually negated everything by going out to eat after but hey, there was some serious cross-generational bonding going on so we were entitled.

I look back at the things I enjoyed doing with my Mom, and I can't wait to have the same Mother-Daughter moments with Reanna. It's exciting and daunting at the same time, knowing this time, I will be playing the adult role in this mother-daughter match-up.

I almost dread the advent of adolescence, with it's matching mood swings, raging hormones and wilfull behavior. Hopefully my daughter's passage won't be too difficult. I can imagine myself taking Reanna to Macy's for her first bra, just like my Mom took me to Rustan's for my first Teenform. I also remember confiding in her when I got my first formal suitor. I can only hope that when the time comes, my daughter will feel close enough to me to do the same.

And then there are those notorious periods. I remember looking to my Mom as my main source of information when I finally hit puberty. One day, my whole family went swimming. I so desperately wanted to join them but I had my period. My Mom offered me a solution, and stood nervously outside the bathroom door barking out instructions on how to use a tampon while I sweated buckets on the other side. She was back at the same spot later that day, talking me through the difficult process of removing the darn thing.

If it hadn't been such a nerve-wracking ordeal, we would've probably laughed our way through that whole episode. My Mom has a loud, infectious laugh, and it doesn't take much for her to use it, even when the joke is on her.

I once played a silly prank as a teenager, standing in front of the refrigerator to cool my hands on a water bottle and then waiting for her under the stairs. I grabbed her ankle as she was descending the steps and heard her scream. When she discovered who owned the cold, clammy hands, her initial scare was replaced by righteous indignation and she began to scold me. Of course, by then, I was almost rolling on the floor, doubled up in mirth. When she saw that her stern sermon was getting nowhere, she just joined me in laughter and we both got a good guffaw out of it.

My sister, Haya, who is visiting from the Philippines, is now in New York with my Mom. They will be celebrating her fifty-ninth birthday today, and I can't help but feel a little jealous that I won't be there to join them, especially since they're in New York, and within minutes of Broadway. But I know I will be seeing them soon as they are scheduled to arrive on April 22, just in time for Reanna's dedication ceremony on the 24th. And then three generations of females in our family will be together again under one roof. The Gaerlan Girls, Reprised.

So here's to the woman who passed on to me her passion for the performing arts, her fervor for films, her superior intelligence quotient, and her love of muenster cheese.

Happy Birthday MOM!




(PLUGGING: "Day 5: Redemption", the latest installment in my "ROYAL HOLIDAY" series at 87 GENTLE STREET.)

SEEING SPOTS




"Look, Daddy, it's Spotty!"

Lorenzo had just logged on to the internet this morning so he could teach Troy how to check the weather forecast for Modesto, a new hobby which Lance had been pursuing for quite some time now. The homepage, msn.com, had a picture of a Holstein cow on MSN Money, but there were no pictures of black and white pit bulls even remotely fitting Spot's general description.

I'm sure it crossed my husband's mind that our son might've inherited his Mom's myopia. Last I checked, my prescription was up to -5.75 for each eye.

"Are you sure?" he asked Troy, willing our son to notice that he was looking at cattle, not our family pet.

"Yes," came my son's confident reply. "That was Spotty when he was still a cow!"




(PLUGGING: "Day 5: Redemption", the latest installment in my "ROYAL HOLIDAY" series at 87 GENTLE STREET.)

STICKY FINGERS




It was midday at the garden of good and evil.

Except yesterday, the garden was located in the most innocuous of places, my local post office.

I had just bought sheets of stamps for Reanna's Baby Dedication invitations, paying with my credit card. The lady behind the counter reminded me to sign my card at the back, something which I had neglected to do. It was a security precaution that would take on a much larger significance later that day.

We left the post office and headed for the bank. It was while we were at the Drive-Thru ATM that I realized my card was missing. I frantically looked over the contents of my wallet and purse, but it was nowhere to be found.

I began to wonder if I had left it at the post office. My husband doubted it, saying it was uncharacteristic of me to do so, but we headed back, just in case.

I could feel panic welling up from within me. I fervently hoped the postal worker had found it and put it away. More than a quarter of an hour had passed since we left the post office. If anybody else had found it, he could be anywhere by now.

I looked through my things again. This time there was no doubt about it. My card wasn't there. Maybe I DID leave it at the post office. I said a prayer to The Lord on our way back, willing the cars in front of us to get out of the way. We finally pulled into the parking lot, and I fairly jumped out of our van and ran inside.

What I saw made my heart fall. The lady had left for the day. The postal worker at the next counter directed me to their supervisor, who told me that no credit cards were turned over to him that day. I asked if they could go through their Lost and Found box, in case the lady had left it there. They didn't think she would leave such an important item in there, but they looked anyway.

They did find a card, which momentarily raised my hopes, but it was an old one, dating back to September 2003.

I was quickly losing hope. Despair was starting to well up from the pit of my stomach. I went back to the counter for a final inspection, looking around and under, knowing my card wouldn't be there. I was already anticipating the hassle I would have to go through, calling the card company and the credit bureaus. I was no stranger to identity theft. Just a few months ago, someone had used my credit card number to run up a $2,500 restaurant tab in ITALY, of all places. I could feel the nightmare starting all over again.

The postal workers went back to helping their customers. I didn't blame them. They did try to help but there was only so much they could do. My little emergency had taken up enough of their time already.

I was about to leave when the customer at the next counter asked me what I was looking for. I told him I had left my credit card there not even half an hour ago. I thought he was just a curious onlooker until he asked for my name. A glimmer of hope shined upon me and I said "Renee", without even thinking. Sure enough, he handed me my credit card!

He was swarthy, in his thirties, averagely dressed, and spoke with a slight accent. He muttered something about finding the card somewhere but I wasn't even listening. I was just happy I got my card back. I flashed him a grateful smile, thanking him while a relieved murmur escaped from the crowd behind me. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I was wondering why it took him so long to come forward with it, but I wasn't about to interrogate him on the spot.

I made a quick exit, telling Lorenzo what happened. On the way home, I couldn't help but think of the moral dilemma that man must've gone through, back there at the post office. Obviously, his original intentions weren't too honorable, otherwise, he would've gone straight to the counter to turn over my credit card as soon as he found it, which was the right thing to do.

I could imagine how he felt when I appeared, looking for my card. He must've wrestled with himself while I was talking to the postal workers, wondering if he should come forward red-handed, knowing every minute that passed made him look guiltier in the eyes of God and man. It took a lot of bravery to come forward in front of all those people. The very act was an admission that he had come face to face with temptation, and temptation got the better of him. Yet in the end, conscience prevailed, and he did the right thing.

It was midday at the garden of good and evil. But at THAT particular moment, good got the upper hand.

We are only human, living with our frailties in a flawed, fallible world.

But there's hope for us yet.


(PLUGGING: While on the subject, you might want to check out "Day 5: Redemption", the latest installment in my "ROYAL HOLIDAY" series at 87 GENTLE STREET.)

THE C.I.A.* FILES




*Crumbgrabbers In Action

crumbgrabber: noun. a child, also written crumb grabber, crumb-grabber, synonym, rugrat, also written rug rat, rug-rat, (slang).


Project, CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES




Assemble together
your favorite cookie dough recipe
your favorite cookie dough recipe ingredients
two crumbgrabbers to help you

Detailed instructions
1) Mix.
2) Scoop.
3) Bake.
4) Time.
5) Watch.
6) Cool.
7) Store.
8) Eat.

A. Step-by-step





B. Feeding Frenzy (See step number 8.)





Introducing the C.I.A. Files. Not your everyday, ordinary DIY.


(PLUGGING: "Day 4: Through the Gates At Last", the latest installment in the "ROYAL HOLIDAY" series at 87 GENTLE STREET.)

THE MAINE EVENT




I had a lovely birthday, thank you for asking.

Sure, the weather was ornery, my husband wasn't feeling well, and it was my son's first day back at school after a long month's vacation, but we managed to have fun anyway.

It very nearly didn't happen. I saw how miserable Lorenzo was feeling so I offered to move the celebration to another day. I was a bit disappointed though, mostly on my kids' behalf. As it was, they were already wondering why we hadn't checked into a hotel yet (it's a family tradition on my BIRTHDAY). How could I tell them we might not even get to eat dinner out, much less stay somewhere overnight, because I didn't have the heart to pull their Dad out of our warm, comfy home when it was just so dreadful outside?

As the evening progressed, however, the weather settled down while my husband's energy level went up. It was the perfect window of opportunity so we took it, heading for Red Lobster before either of the two parties, (the weather or my husband), changed their mind.

Perhaps it was the company, or probably the restaurant's warm, inviting interior, but most likely it was the prospect of good food which brightened my husband's spirits. Whichever it was, Lorenzo visibly felt better upon reaching RED LOBSTER. He ordered clam chowder, ceasar's salad, and steak and lobster, which was a promising sign. At least he wasn't too sick to lose his appetite!

Lance and Troy opted for the popcorn shrimp from the kid's menu, and I, being the guest of honor, took full advantage of the Lobster Fest that was going on, ordering lobster bisque followed by a whole two-pound Maine lobster (they were out of the 1 1/4 lb. ones and Lorenzo promised to help.)

The kids were in their element. They LOVED going to the lobster tank and peeking at the unusual crustaceans. They kept telling their Daddy they had to go to the bathroom, just so they could visit with the lobsters (or, as Lance called them, the crawdads) again. Of course, we didn't have the heart to tell them that an unfortunate pair would be showing up on our dinner plates very soon.




So far, the lobsters were a good distraction from the fact that we hadn't packed any clothes for a hotel stay, but Lance was savvy enough to notice. It didn't help that the service was particularly slow that night, and the kids were already full from eating cheesy biscuits before their entrees made it to the table.

Our waitress kept forgetting things too: our cutlery, our soup, even our coffee spoons when dessert finally came. She redeemed herself, however, by showing up with a slice of Key Lime Pie on one hand and an ice cream sundae on the other, both of them sporting birthday candles. (She conveniently forgot to charge us for those, too, but that's getting way ahead of the story).

Dinner, when it finally came, was delicious. By then, my kids had already gotten their second wind. They attacked their popcorn shrimp like there was no tomorrow. The poor things must've been REALLY hungry. Troy actually touched the veggie dip that came with his food and Lance made a decent dent on his garden salad. Lorenzo's steak was a little on the dry side, but he DID order it medium-well so that was expected (I prefer my steaks pink in the center so I usually get mine done medium).

I asked our server to split my lobster down the middle but she must've misunderstood because she disappeared into the kitchen and stayed there for almost fifteen minutes. By then, my whole family had finished their dinners and I was starting to wonder if she was REALLY on a quest to try my patience. But she reappeared with my lobster completely off the shell. I could imagine the poor girl scrambling to crack and de-shell that lobster in the shortest possible time. This proved to be her redemption. I gave her a good tip. She deserved it.

(After all, as my husband pointed out, pinaghimay niya ako.)

We lingered over coffee, savoring my birthday key kime pie while the boys demolished the ice cream sundae. It was a wonderful dinner spent with the most delightful company on earth, my family. The very same people who sang the first "Happy Birthday" to me at the stroke of midnight were there to sing one last "Happy Birthday" before 12:01 came, exactly twenty-four hours later. What better present could anyone ask for?




In closing, I would like to thank those who greeted me by posting comments in this site: ANNABANANA, CHRISTINE, MARE, MAIJI, PINAYHEKMI, BATJAY, G, KAI, MERRITT, MONA and LETTY. Ditto for those who left birthday tags as well: Emily Howard, adun , PIE and KRISHNNA. I would also like to thank MARISOL, who e-mailed me her greeting, and my sister, Haya, who texted me hers.

Finally, I would like to thank NANAY (my mother-in-law), who called me to greet me, and my MOM, who, aside from calling me with a personal greeting, also sent me MONEY to celebrate with.

Thankfully, even through time and distance, some things never change!


(PLUGGING: "Day 4: Through the Gates At Last", the latest installment in the "ROYAL HOLIDAY" series at 87 GENTLE STREET.)