Random ramblings about boys

When I was younger, I told myself that I would never allow a boy to hold me down. It was actually the movie "Kramer vs. Kramer" that led me to that resolve. I didn't want to be Meryl Streep leaving her family because she did not know who she is.  

While I was single I made the most of what I had and to do as much as I could with my NGO salary. I had lots of fun with good friends who were the perfect travel buddies and gimik partners. 

Then I met someone the moment I stopped looking. Things changed a bit but I was lucky enough to be with a man who had the courage and security to let me fly, whether with him or on my own. Eventually, I married that man on a Friday the 13th in 2008. A couple of months after I flew to Netherlands to pursue my masters. Nope, that boy did not tie me down and even wished me a wonderful time, which I did have.

The fates, however, like to play tricks. Now, they made me eat the words I told myself many moons ago. I can't believe that a couple of boys tied me down! One aged 2.5 years and another 2.5 months. 

The Pope Francis fever is ongoing in the Philippines. Two and a half years ago, I would have chosen to brave the crowd and the rains just to see the Pope. Twenty years ago, I was a scraggly 16year old who carried 24 cans of Coke in her backpack and walked from the Vito cruz LRT station to the Grandstand with that load by herself with no posse to go with, just to attend Pope John Paul's Mass. I did meet up with a friend after (who had his other friends who consumed most of my Coke!) and we eventually got lucky to bump into the Ateneo contingent. Luckier still that as we were trying to meet with the Ateneo contingent, it was the Pope's convoy that we first bumped into! Oh, the joy of that surprise encounter. :)

I will not have any surprise encounter right now with a Pope I adore and admire greatly despite the fact that the Nunciature is probably 3-4KM away from where we live. I have been tied down by those two, in particular, the smallest of the bunch. 

I'm missing out a bit, I know. But the Pope himself has consoled me during the meeting with the families as well as his homily in Tacloban when he made mention of the Mother. That is my role now, one I have embraced fully and sometimes obsessively. 

FOMO - fear of missing out. I have missed out a lot with Pope Francis in terms of having a personal encounter. But I have several TV networks to provide me consistent updates. And seeing him, even through a small screen, is already enriching and spiritually nourishing. But there is no camera to follow my boys around and I am definitely their number one devotee. I am the one they call "mother."  When Alon wakes up, he calls for me first. When Alab wakes up and I greet him, he has this sweetest smile that assures me he is happy to see me.

I will not be able to say I was there waiting for the Pope to pass by or to listen to him say Mass personally. But I can say that I put to sleep a two and a half year old to sleep by chanting "Viva Il Papa, Papa Fracesco." Neither boy will remember what I chose to give up during these five days but I will. (And I will remind them every time they are naughty! Hehe!)