BLOGGER!!

Dear Blogger!

 

I don't mind if the change takes place for the majority good.  Unfortunately, it's not working for me and others too many!  I can't crack the HTML this time, and I really have no time for the new language.  Please please pleeaassseee restore the 'shrink to fit' feature to the header design unless it's adjusting intelligently.  You read me Blogger?  You're about to ruin this blog I've maintained for years!

 

Not funny Blogger, not funny.  I hope it's not some ill April Fool's joke.

 

A cross blogger who is still up trying to mend the broken site.

Now Stardust is really mad this time.

Move over

Testing testing...

This is the first post rolling out using the new interface.  Let's see how it goes.

All's well here on my end.  We're having the last falls of snow, I guess.  It's on the news today, sakura is blooming around mid April at my area.   So move over, Snow.  The bunny in me is already hopping crazy. I can't wait to welcome my favorite season again. :)


And hopefully, I get to blog a wee bit more.   


*  Ok, the header picture is not working... :/

Wait up...

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Look at him, my cub turning 9 months in 4 days.




Everyday I wake up to see my baby taller, bigger. There's this increasing intelligence in his eyes, sometimes I'm just incapable of fooling him anymore.



I'm forever guilty of the fact that I'm always trying to settle him somewhere safe rather than allowing him explore, as my bad wrists might not be fast enough to save him. I've never helped him like how my peers do their part as wonderful parents, but Mother nature is kind, the cub figured out much by himself. His 8th month is one of growth spurt, he sits up on his own, kneels as he pushes wheels around, pulls himself up to a standing position at the sofa and flashes big satisfactory smiles while doing so.



Hours ago I discovered his milk teeth cutting through the upper bed and they just punctured my heart. In days to come the little one will flash me two brand new milkies and continues meeting new milestones...





Though there's no greater joy seeing you growing up healthy and happy, darling I really miss you as the fresh newborn whom we've just brought back home. Baby I really do.

*****

I pinch myself to check if I'm still alive when a freshman mom, and another one, and one more! tell that they don't know how to carry on, while they have the support of their mother, mother-in-law, siblings, maid and friends. Erm, I can and can't relate to that. You know sometimes there's this faint wish of I know what 'support' is like.



Forget what I said.



But I really know that God is good, for the wonderful baby in my arms, but that doesn't mean things have been simple in other respects. For the past months, I've been so choked up in much matters that distract me from the cub, I guess that's why I end up 'missing' him all the time, especially after he has gone to bed. And suddenly the baby is so grown before I have enough of him. I wish that the energy meant for my baby hasn't been wasted on other stupid issues...



But I think the peak is over, it's time I start to breathe.



Wait up boy, wait up. Mommy is coming, and I hope that I'll miss out the joy of having you no more.

3.11

A year ago at 14:46 hours, an earthquake of magnitude 9 shook northeast Japan and raised the highest tsunami the country knew ever, robbed over 10 thousand lives mercilessly. To this day, 0ver 3000 people remain missing, 36 thousand nationals are forced to depart from their hometown due to environmental damage, or radiation exposure from the nuclear plants.



Words aren't good enough to describe my thoughts over 3.11. When the waves are unleashed that fateful hour, a lady could be in the process of labor. Somebody was bringing a newborn home. A couple was having a wedding. There were birthday party preparations. A child was praised. A patient healed. Anyone could be having another ordinary day... Nobody escaped, even the fleeing vehicles were consumed in an enormous current.



Why? Why the tsunami? Why them? Why anyone actually.



A year may have passed, but much remains acutely painful. Our hearts go out to those who have lost their loved ones, property, or literally everything.



A lunch is especially arranged today within the family. We gathered to remember the deceased, and the unfortunate ones. Also to remind ourselves to cherish whatever time left cos our days are numbered too.

The Invisible Mother

A friend shared this beautiful written piece which I feel an urge to share with not necessarily 'invisible mothers', but anyone out there who feels invisible or less appreciated. Read on and be blessed.

The Invisible Mother ...

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?'

Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more! 'Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this??

Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'

Some days I'm a crystal ball; 'Where's my other sock? Where's my phone?, What's for dinner?'

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history, music and literature --but now, they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!?

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. She had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well.

It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when she turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe.I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: With admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'

In the days ahead I would read --- no, devour the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:

1) No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.

2) These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.

3) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.

4) The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A story of legend in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof, No one will ever see it ' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does'.

'No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, no Cub Scout meeting, no last- minute errand is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'

I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.

The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand- bastes a turkey for 3 hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, he'd say, 'You're gonna love it there ....'

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible mothers.

Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know ... I just did.

The Will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you.

To all the wonderful mothers out there!!

May God give you:

For every storm, a rainbow,

For every tear, a smile,

For every care, a promise,

And a blessing in each trial.

For every problem life sends, A faithful friend to share,

For every sigh, a sweet song,

And an answer for each prayer.