<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792</id><updated>2012-01-06T07:56:28.736+08:00</updated><category term='pics'/><category term='ouch'/><category term='milestone'/><category term='yey'/><category term='yikes'/><category term='tales'/><title type='text'>Rubeus Iakob</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>142</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-7398006633270410548</id><published>2012-01-06T07:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-06T07:56:28.749+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><title type='text'>It's 2012, and You Will Learn to Read</title><content type='html'>Lately, you have been always hunkered over some book, pretending to "READ" :)  I started you on the concept of Ball-Stick-Bird to prepare you for the books we ordered for you. In a way, I cannot wait for you to be reading already... in  a way, I am also saddened by the thought. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also intimidated - a lot - of the prospect that homeschooling is now for us. But then again, what every 4-year old has to know is that the world is an amazing place. That was something I 'gave' you before but sort of failed to give most of last year as I struggled with you and Yamee. But my gift to you is to bring back the joyful, exciting parent you once enjoyed. And the great thing about all this is that we will be inspiring Yamee along....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are my FB updates about you for the past 4 months:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pappie : who do u like playing with, me or buzz?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: you!&lt;br /&gt;Pappie: why me?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: because I love you and you're my partner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suffice it to say, Pappie had to say goodbye to working at home :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee and Lion King&lt;br /&gt;Y: Pappie, i'm Booba.&lt;br /&gt;P: Who's that?&lt;br /&gt;Y: You know, the baby lion?&lt;br /&gt;P: You mean you're Simba.&lt;br /&gt;... &lt;br /&gt;Y: You know, there were (indistinct)&lt;br /&gt;Me: What's that? Did you say honking ass?&lt;br /&gt;Y: Yes.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Baby, Rafiki is a monkey, his ass doesn't honk.&lt;br /&gt;Y: No, no. I mean the 3 honking ass that ran after Simba.&lt;br /&gt;Me: You mean, hyenas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y singing: Hakuna Putata, there's no worries for the rest of your days, it's your problem frees, philosophies, hakuna putata &lt;br /&gt;(yep...lahat dapat plural)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, when I grow bigger, I will poop like Pappie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bwahahahahahaha... I dunno what he meant, ekshuli&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just recently established that both my boys share the same blood type. I hope I raise them loving each other enough to someday freely donate bone marrow or a kidney to the other, should the need arise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out of delight, I sometimes feel like paying Yamee for having to entice him with fish &amp; other veggies just so he'd eat other veggies. Even Kuya Yakee will devour his fish &amp; veggies first before laboring over rice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also especially love it when I fetch Yakee and everybody greets everybody else like an old friend... and mommies tell me their kids tell them about playing with or missing my son. (and no drama like my friends' stories) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee to Andee (neighbor, girl age 8)&lt;br /&gt;"You want to come upstairs? There's books there. It's not scary there. There's no monsters there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up there = our bedroom&lt;br /&gt;gudlak!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee didnt like my cathedral windows... hope he likes this chicken nuggets naman...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally got fed up and lost my temper with a non-cooperative Yakee and withdrew priviliges... it upset him so, he declared he is not sleeping in our house tonight but with my cousin next door. I let him. Pappie is antsy about it. And Yakee turns four tomorrow :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four years ago today, I gave birth to our firstborn... and life became more magical than we ever thought possible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy birthday Yakee...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While washing Yakee's face:&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy, when I grow up, I want to be a teacher at St Michael"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Napa-awww... and napa-kiss naman ako talaga!&lt;br /&gt;(from Tita Winnie&lt;br /&gt;Iakob is truly one sweet boy too...even if I am with the full day class and I visit their class, he's one who would approach me and call me Tita Winnie! and would talk to me too...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am such a parent now. I was super scandalized and disgusted by a pop ad of naked people (not sure if from Mediafire or 4shared). Thank heavens Yakee wasn't nearby but he was like, "what Mommy, why?" after hearing my "Ewwww, oh yuck!" shriek&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, Yakee and Ice were giggling under the stairs. Turned out they were waiting for me...got my behind poked with a giant bubble wand while getting ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Yamee scratched his Kuya's face over a toy.&lt;br /&gt;It's so bittersweet that my babies are not babies anymore ...and a tad scary that they're growing up typical boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hubs' sibs call Yakee crazy, and we all ended up calling each other crazy. It's a family thing. Unfortunately, Yakee started calling his friends at school "crazy dog" so they in turn call him the same, and their parents end up chastising their child for something my son taught them. I do a lot of apologizing and explaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as not to invalidate the 'family' aspect of it... I told Yakee that only members of our family are crazy and that other people cannot be crazy. They can be nice, cute, funny, awesome... but not crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At school today, a Mom told me that her daughter told her, "Mommy, Iakob's family is crazy." I did a lot of apologizing and explaining again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My nephew and our girl neighbor easily trumps Yakee with emotional blackmail... I am often unsure if I should be worried that my son still hasn't a grasp of this kind of manipulation. Does this say anything about his EQ? O... sheltered lang talaga sya?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the Power Plant Mall, when I first realized I didn't have my wallet with me, I apologized to Yakee for not having money to buy the agreed popsicle that we went there for. He was immediate in his response, "Mommy, it's ok, I have money..." and proceeded to get the 25 cents he found in the jeep that morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was crying by the dining table after realizing I lost my rings, Yakee asked me why I was sad then hugged me. Then he said, "It's ok Sarabi, it's ok."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Left sons with Pappie to attend LATCH G.A.... I came home to well-fed, napping boys, what's more, Pappie made play money with Yakee and got him to WRITE numbers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks like I need to find me a job na, 'coz it seems Pappie is a better hoeschooling parent!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Mahal, even if you don't like to, you have to pee.&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: No, I don't want to pee. My penis is not angry.&lt;br /&gt;Me: What? Why does your penis need to get angry before you pee?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Because... I have to wait for my penis to be angry before I can pee. It's not angry o.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Who told you about your penis needing to be angry?&lt;br /&gt;... Yakee: Ninang!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disaster ka Ate Josephine, ni-relate mo ba to sa Angry Birds?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Mommy is so sad, Mommy doesn't have a baby anymore. You and Yamee are growing up so fast, you're now big boys!&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Don't worry Mommy. Someday, we will buy another baby again.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Uhm, no!&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Yes we will.&lt;br /&gt;Me: No, I will just wait till you and Yamee are super big boys already, and you will have your own babies.&lt;br /&gt;... Yakee: Ok :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder though how much he thought we bought Yamee for. P25? :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let some 20 or so kids loose on a farm and you'd usually expect mayhem. But these kids weren't that noisy, didn't fight, took turns, shared, held hands and generally kept to themselves while having fun. They also ate their veggies, no prob. And there were no tears when it's time to go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's Waldorf kids for you :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee feeding a goat during his field trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Children/Misc-Cute-Faces/St-Michael-Field-Trip-at/i-b7d6QPf/0/S/IMG7164-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a related note... thank you, darling son, for not smelling like one... even after a most active day in the sun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha... the look that won him P1k gift cheque and got him more candies than others just because he did not show up as a vampire :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thanks Ninang XiAh for the costume!!! sulit na! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Blog-Pics-2011/i-J9V36NQ/0/M/lion-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, when the chicken is killed, it becomes chicken sad. Then, when it is cooked, it becomes chicken joy.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Why does it become chicken joy after cooking?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Because it wants to be fried.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Why does it want to be fried?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Because it wants to be happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did ask again why frying makes the chicken happy, but Yakee got mad na... "the chicken wants to be fried nga daw!" :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never heard of the song coz am not a Springsteen fan... found the lines, got goosebumps and thought of how I want my sons to grow up as each other's keeper... and decided to scrap this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turns out... it's some sort of tribute to a lost brother...and no, I am not invoking that naman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Blog-Pics-2011/i-FCdqGfb/0/M/brother-bruce-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee while praying last night:&lt;br /&gt;Papa Jesus, thank you for everybody will be dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eto na naman kami sa dead. We did go to a cemetery yesterday though and Pappie did say during one of their convos that 'someday, everybody will die' :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a moment at the party last Saturday when Yakee was the lone boy in a sea of at least 10 winged girls and I really felt a pang of longing for a girl... a little regret that I will never dress someone in tutus and ribbons and glitter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe all my grandkids will be girls.... :) And I will be an insufferable doting grandma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you declutter and spring clean without triggering allergic rhinitis and eczema? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Promised Yakee a Christmas tree after we've decluttered... and well... :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: You are bad, I don't want you. I want another Mommy, not you.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh, I am so sad to hear that but if that's how you feel...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(later)&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, hold my hand.&lt;br /&gt;... Me (holds his hand): You still want me to hold your hand even if you don't want me to be your Mommy anymore?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: (silence)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(later)&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, i'm so sorry for getting mad at you. I want you to be my Mommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* sorry son, no getting rid of me *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: want me to scramble the egg or cook it sunny side up?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Sunny side?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes, I can cook it sunny side up so you can see the yolk.&lt;br /&gt;Y: Will it look like Barbie and Ken? &lt;br /&gt;Me: What?&lt;br /&gt;... Y: You said sunny side, like the daycare (in toy story 3)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hay... the lines between reality and TV are so blurred with my son...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used the quote on the boys' party giveaways, as they were books from Adarna House :) We have been reading the ones the storyteller related for a week now... Yakee can't get enough of Titoy's magic chair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Blog-Pics-2011/i-wFVtSnh/0/M/toreadistofly-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(during Mass last Sunday)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Look Mommy, he's tied to the cross.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes, Papa Jesus was crucified. He died for our sins.&lt;br /&gt;Y: He is a hero.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes, I guess you can say that.&lt;br /&gt;Y: He is a hero. Like St Michael :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Done by our neighbor, 9-year old Andee. Misspelled names aside, she actually beats me at drawing... even the Bop It toy in the background was part of the picture!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lu, next time i'll ask her to draw me naman, hehe :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Blog-Pics-2011/i-Q26sxjC/0/M/374879101504731875286885669686-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, even if I don't feel like eating Oreo, I have to... if only to ration Yakee. Hehe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, come! It's your song, come on!&lt;br /&gt;Me: Awww, you're so sweet. (I go to the kitchen expecting to hear "If I Fell" which I sing to the boys often.)&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: See, Mommy. How Gee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;uhmmm.... my child knows me only too well? :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Yakee, refusing to apologize to the DDU girls.. hehe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Blog-Pics-2011/i-7v6wrt6/0/M/yakeesadintagaytay-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First... it was just a makeshift cape from his cloth diapers we never really used as diaper.&lt;br /&gt;Then... it was a toy sword worn down his back.&lt;br /&gt;Now... Yakee has added a toy axe hitched on his underpants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MY son's everyday costume is sure starting to pile up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time flies... and the baby is no more, except in your heart... and your memories of him...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Blog-Pics-2011/i-S5vG5Cj/0/M/yakeebarneycap-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The challenging thing is that I wanna homeschool Yakee and I know he's physically/musically inclined :D &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching my son caught up in his imaginary world like I used to be when I was young is an exercise in beautiful. . . Weird, but beautiful. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(while trying to tell Pappie Jojo about our day)&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, who is that boy I played with? The one with the white bird?&lt;br /&gt;Me &amp; Pappie: What?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: The one with the white angry bird on his shirt.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ahhh...&lt;br /&gt;... &lt;br /&gt;(while praying before bed)&lt;br /&gt;Me: Papa Jesus, Mommy is sorry for losing her temper...&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Again! Mommy lost her temper again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disaster: Santa leaving a Transformers gift without the parent who can help it 'transform'... plus, the blasted toy hurts my hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry Yakee. I'll read to you na lang.&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, the ants are like beggars.&lt;br /&gt;(not sure she heard it right)&lt;br /&gt;Me: The ants are like what?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: The ants are like beggars, they're looking for food.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-7398006633270410548?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/7398006633270410548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2012/01/its-2012-and-you-will-learn-to-read.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/7398006633270410548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/7398006633270410548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2012/01/its-2012-and-you-will-learn-to-read.html' title='It&apos;s 2012, and You Will Learn to Read'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-9174272191585809191</id><published>2011-09-02T23:54:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-03T01:15:59.632+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ouch'/><title type='text'>Challenged and Challenging</title><content type='html'>Oh darling, where do I even begin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As usual, we have dark days... usually after school, you'd act up and I'd try and try and try to be patient but sometimes, i'd really lose it. I think it has a lot to do with coming home to a place where you have to compete for MY attention.... what with Yamee growing to be engaging. I remember telling your teacher that there was this terrible week and I was feeling super lost because I couldn't tell what was triggering your emotional upsets... and then it dawned on me, that Yamee stood up by himself that week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your teachers say you have leadership qualities... that your playmates follow your lead even if you don't really tell them to do so. I guess that means you're charming, naturally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still haven't blogged about it but the Dev Ped we saw noticed that you have some "auditory processing issues" and need improvement with your fine motor skills. I'm glad and feel validated that this was pointed out by an expert... but inside of me, I am also slightly scared that this may develop into ADHD. And I do wonder if I have done you good (enough). I am scared of failing you, of not being a better mentor...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have been sickly. Ever since May, you've seen a lot of doctors and the ER. One time, you even made me cry because you were stomping your feet at Healthway, refusing a blood extraction... and I didn't feel right about asking you to be brave yet another time. In my mind, there is always that fear of either one of you (and Yamee) getting seriously sick... like your cousin did... which is also why your parents bring you to the doctor most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not happy that you and Yamee are seeing an allergologist with me... but at least, I trust our doctor. And after Dr. Mantaring, I guess Dra. Sandejas is now your doctor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're sort of through your Toy Story phase (though we bought you Buzz and Woody at HK Disneyland) and is more into being a superhero. It's cute that you insist you're both Superman and Iron Man while calling Ice, Batman. You and Ice have also learned to play better... only, I've noticed Ice is more able to manipulate play between the two of you, which again makes me wonder about your development. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got you Lego Duplo blocks finally... and finally, you're building your own stuff which you never did with your micro brick sets. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's cute when you insist on having 3 cookies, 3 pieces of chocolate, etc because you 'are 3 years old' :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's cute that you're sort of anticipating your birthday party, insist on having a Superman cake, and being a superhero on that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are addicted to Angry Birds and have fashioned play dough as angry birds. You can see a sling/catapult in any mundane thing :)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You still tend to be contrary. You still cannot manage your anger. You still hit me when you're upset. But you're also easily pleased... and always active, dynamic, ready to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You kept asking us about going to Disneyland in the weeks before we did (Is this Disneyland? Are we going to Disneyland after this?)... and now you keep saying "Disneyland is in Hong Hong" (hehe) and keep singing "Hakuna Putata" :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you. I know I am hard on you, but oh, how I love you. And I just hope you know that you are soooo blessed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;================&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miscellaneous FB updates:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spent the day with Yakee and realized she missed such time with him. And Yakee obviously missed just having me all to himself... rushed home to a sorta starving Yamee, feeling a little guilty that he may be starving, but he was more interested in the ice cream I was eating. Life's like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pappie Jojo Arevalo is sad because Yakee has been diagnosed to have exercise-induced asthma (one that doesn't require meds, thank God). We're really just praying he won't get/have other trademark Arevalo legacies, like kidney probs. I am invoking breastfeeding magic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laya Isabelle Garcellano Florendo and I are actually raising them with the hope that they will be the best of friends... and hubs even said that he thinks people will perceive them as twins... but I cannot resist this :D Anong panama ng Nestle commercial if they end up with each other?! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Blog-Pics-2011/i-nHrMtL5/0/M/younglove-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cleaning out Yakee's old pen and tunnel gym set... bittersweet and kinda inviting rhinitis :D&lt;br /&gt;(kaloka nga kasi now I need age-appropriate toys for Yamee but don't have lots :D I have given a lot away and those that remain, kinda not sure if Yakee will part with)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee was looking at me and said..."Mommy, you look like a spider... ay no, a mascot!" :D (after MY allergy attack)&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I was aghast to see Yakee hitting Yamee on the chest. When I asked him why he's angry, he said, "Yamee kicked me on the face." *oh gosh, start of my referee-ing days*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During a mass at the wake we went to&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, what is a rose from the dead?&lt;br /&gt;(imagine the conversation sis, when he was asking me why the rose is not a flower :D)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yakee singing&lt;br /&gt;There was a boy with a lonely goatherd&lt;br /&gt;yey-odl-ey-odl-ey-hee-hoo&lt;br /&gt;There was a duck with a lonely goatherd&lt;br /&gt;yey-odl-ey-odl-ey-hee-hoo&lt;br /&gt;...There was a king on a castle moat heard&lt;br /&gt;yey-odl-ey-odl-ey-hee-hoo&lt;br /&gt;There was a man with foam afloat heard&lt;br /&gt;yey-odl-ey-odl-ey-hee-hoo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha... inferno, tama yung ibang words :D&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, can we please have a baby kitten please? I want to take care of a baby kitten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First time he asked for a pet. Yikes. (and syempre I told him "when you're bigger, we'll get you one")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, when Yamee grows bigger, when he's a little kid, he can play with me... and we can fight over rice.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Fight over rice? Why, don't you think there'd be enough for the two of you?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Yes. There won't be plenty eh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patay tayo dyan Jojo Arevalo :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Duday (pointing to a picture of a doorknob): Yakee, what is this?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: That is the door's friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honga naman :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pappie: Who is part of your family?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, Pappie, Super Yakee and Yamee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, kelangan may SUPER sya :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while chugging water from a bottle&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, this is waterbeer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sana man lang anak, butterbeer! Natuwa sana ako... now, scared lang ako, haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after seeing rabbits being sold along Taft&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, you know, I am the biggest now. I can take good care of my own pets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wish mo lang anak... hehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, do I look like Hairy Potter?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Mahal, Harry. Harry. Not Hairy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over 2 years nang hairy si Potter :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, what's that?&lt;br /&gt;Me: It's lipstick.&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: What is it for?&lt;br /&gt;Me: It colors mommy's lips.&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: I want.&lt;br /&gt;...Me: Sorry darling, only girls wear lipstick. This is just for big girls like Mommy.&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: No! I want. because Iya puts on me eh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soraya Arevalo-Santos, your daughter has to answer to Jojo Arevalo :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while watching Man vs Food&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, when I am bigger... I will eat that (referring to stupid wings, really super spicy buffalo wings). And drink beer. And iced tea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anak... what is it about beer?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is really thankful that Yakee only has classes Wed-Fri... gives us time to recover from weekends of partying, sugar high and too much stimulation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, look at my underpants!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked... and there was a red ribbon tied around his waist. Libet Lucero-Espaldon, I suddenly remembered your friend's story... but it's way too early for my son to gift himself to someone :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yakee put the ribbon on, pirate daw sya. i don't know how... haha. then yamee wanted the ribbon too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lagot tayo kay pappie.. but at least, if we have a girl, hindi naman pala masagwa :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Blog-Pics-2011/i-x8DcF9F/0/S/beribboned-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adarna House, Yakee is calling me "Chenelyn" and I don't know if it's because he thinks I make magic or that I look exhausted.... or he thinks he can boss me around. I hope to God it's not because he thinks we can be mermaids together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while kissing Yamee's feet&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: "Mmmm, the best brother in the world Mommy"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;super tender moment sana if he didn't also just wake the best brother :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, i'm a puppy in a cage.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Aww... poor puppy!&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: No, i'm not a poor puppy. I can play in the cage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glass half full :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pappie: Kuya, Yamee has a fever. I think he caught a virus.&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: But how did he catch a virus?&lt;br /&gt;(Pappie turns to me)&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yamee is sick. &lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Ahhh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Super stressed. Cramming to get everything ready for Yakee's school. Pumping for Yamee. Yakee's recurring hives over I don't know what. Yamee suddenly always antsy and needy. And I don't know when or how I can get my gown in time for Saturday! But thank God my problems are just these little things...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just before Pappie got his flu shot&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Pappie, be brave ha?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:) he said the same to Yamee but Yamee cried pa din eh... haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee looking at my stomach. &lt;br /&gt;"Mommy, you are pregnant? You're having a boy again?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tsk. time to quit with the cookies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To occupy a child for an hour, give him a malong, a box and some newspaper. Expect, however, that the newspaper will get ripped and scattered... and that he'll end up sweaty inside the malong... and that he'd be playing on the floor a lot. Pray, also, that he doesn't insist you go 'camping' with him. Otherwise, you'll be required to 'dance around the egg' until 'he hatches' for... an hour :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iya: Tita Mec, what are you doing?&lt;br /&gt;Me: I am expressing milk.&lt;br /&gt;Iya: Why?&lt;br /&gt;Me: I will put in in Yamee's cereals to make it soft.&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: And chewy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;uhm anak... hindi ito cookie, hindi rin mentos :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee singing&lt;br /&gt;"Ti - a drink with garlic bread...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee's first day in school was perfect, with him pretending to be riding the long neck of a brachiasaurus with his 'classmates' here (the other group of kids are perched on a T-Rex). Unfortunately, it's his only day in school so far since one form or another of allergies have hounded him for around ten days now. Hopefully, he can really go to school tom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Blog-Pics-2011/i-zFd3djc/0/S/yakeeskul-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was expecting it to be sunny today because school was cancelled as early as last night... hehe. It's usually the case eh, and I spent part of the night thinking of ways to explain to Yakee why there's no school again for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hid behind the door and spooked Yakee.&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: "Mommy, you scared Superman."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;good thing I didn't get punched, then&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ninang: Is that sexy for you?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: No. That's not Mommy eh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;naks... parang naturuan ni Pappie Jojo :) labeeettt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, you are fat. Pappie is big.&lt;br /&gt;Mommy: Remember what Mommy told you, only wallets and books can be fat. Is Mommy a wallet?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: No, you're a T-Rex, like me. &lt;br /&gt;Mommy: What else can be fat?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Worms! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jennifer Trajano, haha, just when you were having the same issues! But at least Yakee stopped calling his father, fat! Rome wasn't built in a day, sabi nga, haha :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pappie bought Yakee a Philippine flag. After explaining to him what we can of Philippine Independence, we made him go out to shout "freedom" while waving the flag at MIL's street. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Blog-Pics-2011/i-TBFdvJR/0/M/kkkyakee-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of Yakee's concocted words ALWAYS makes me cringe and nauseous... it's boogerworm. Ewww to the nth level talaga, anak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have a pic in any cam... but hubs and Yakee does :D And John took it right before Yakee barfed all over his Dad. Yes, Pappie is in charge of barf... I am in charge of poop. Ganun ang division of labor :D And God bless all these babywearers...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My poor Yakee before he barfed galore... which landed us in the ER after the Babywearing meet. He's better now, hives are back nga lang. Hayst. Psychological bid for attention ba to, anak? :p &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, I want Baby Beatles. I want the one, Stawberry Cake Forever...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling a little bad typing up Yakee's allergy history. It's been a rough 3 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Darling, I noticed aprons hanging outside your school. Did you paint again?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: No.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh, okay. I thought you painted again today.&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: No... we washed those aprons eh. We did not paint. We washed.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh... I see. Teacher taught you how to wash the aprons?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Yes!&lt;br /&gt;Pappie (to me): Sabi ko sayo mahal, child labor lang gagawin nila sa school eh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ninang: Why are you painting your hand?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Because it has to be colorful. So I can see it properly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while walking to Power Plat Mall&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Wait Mommy, I will pick a flower....&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh no, baby, please don't...&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: ... and I will give it to you. This is for you Mommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;arrgh... torn between LNT and son's thoughtfulness :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: "Pappie, I will chop you into five pieces." (then our son proceeds to make cutting motion on his father's neck)&lt;br /&gt;Pappie Jojo : "Crazy ka Yakee. Mahal, narinig mo sinabi ng anak mo? He's going to chop me into five pieces daw!"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Ahhh, he learned that in school."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stressed that Yakee is suddenly a sickly child. Arghhh... no school again due to fever. Bigyan ko kaya ng BM? :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're really thankful we can give Yakee this... I just hope his immune system cooperates so he doesn't miss so much time in the sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Blog-Pics-2011/i-DXGr5cr/0/M/yakeestmichael-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, I don't want to ride the jeepney eh. I want a cab.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Why?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Because... because... it's so panget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh-oh :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Iakob, did you know that it was raining so hard earlier?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Did you have trouble?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Trouble? Trouble going here?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Yes?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Not really. The rain stopped just before I got off to fetch you.&lt;br /&gt;...Yakee: Were you worried?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Well, yes, I was. I was worried we had to wade in flood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing when you see them trying to sympathize and use adult words, no?&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee and the Story of the Thirsty Sparrow&lt;br /&gt;(talking about the story of the thirsty sparrow)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Once upon a time...&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: ... there were five birds who wanted to drink.&lt;br /&gt;Me: They were thirsty?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Yes!&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ok, so there were five very thirsty birds. What happens next?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: They find a glass of water and they drink.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Who drank first?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: The crane drank first. His name is crane because his head goes like this (makes crane/backhoe motions with his hand)&lt;br /&gt;Me: haha... Okay, then what happened?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: The water in the glass went like this (shows receding motion)&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ahh, the water in the glass receded. Then, what happened?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Hawk came next. He drank water too.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Wow, and hawk is what kind of bird? (hoping for adjectives like big)&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Hawk? Uhmm... Incredible hawk!&lt;br /&gt;(laughter from me)&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: But he is incredible, you know, scary? And angry?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(he did finish telling me the story... but I was still laughing till the very end)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy, will you be dead on Wednesday?"&lt;br /&gt;Such was how Yakee started our first conversation on death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(while crossing the road)&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, if the car hits you, then nobody will help me cross the street. Then, I will be lost. (aside from my son seemingly intent on getting me killed, such at least allows us to talk about morbid scenarios)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, you know, we have a new classroom.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes... do you think it's smaller or bigger than your old one?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: No, it's just medium.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, when you're troubled, I will save you. I will save you and... punch someone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What 'sweet violence' no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mmmm, Mommy, the radish is so good.&lt;br /&gt;Me: I'm glad you like it baby. You want more?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Yes... but Mommy, what kind of dish is in radish?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Uhmm... Mahal, i'd look it up to check why they named radish like that ok?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DevPed: Which one runs faster, the big boy or the little boy?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: The little boy. (said with certainty)&lt;br /&gt;DevPed: The little boy?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Yes, because he's Dash. And he runs the fastest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haay... i really regret The Incredibles na, Pappie Jojo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Pappie Jojo was helping Yakee pee when their 'neighbor' in the next cubicle gave a loud fart)&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Ooh... Pappie. It's a frog! Is that you?&lt;br /&gt;Pappie: No! That wasn't me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha... defensive much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We kept Yakee from school today, because we were expecting a lot of rain and I might have trouble fetching him.... plus, Yamee fussed all night, all of us were just dead tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May binata na ako... hikbi... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Blog-Pics-2011/i-zhT96js/0/M/yakeepolo-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommies... I had a sudden slight worry. It's common for kids to show up with bruises and scars without them knowing and/or caring how they got it right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yamee on a walker means a lot of things crashing on the floor... and a very stressed Yakee over his toys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am windang about the boys' party theme... do I insist on the theme I want (which I feel reflects our family values and direction) or cater to Yakee's whim (right now, superhero, when we don't even let him watch cartoons/TV/supehero movies nor buy him any character-ed stuff). Hay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee telling me about the moms doing the bellydancing ek on stage yesterday&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy, you know, the moms, they were dancing and their boobs were moving. It's so crazy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Angry Birds na passport holders? haha... my son will be thrilled to no end... which may result in lost passports :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(with a beatuifully shy smile on his face)&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, I have a beautiful friend in school. His name is Louise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(oh no!!! first time he used the 'beautiful' description on his own... and he's really referring to a pretty girl, he just doesn't use a lot of she-her pa)&lt;br /&gt;Aug 19&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(while playing with play dough)&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Let's make a pizza mommy.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Okay... I will make the grated cheese.&lt;br /&gt;(after a while)&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, where's the macaroni?&lt;br /&gt;...Me: Macaroni? I thought we're making pizza?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Yes. I need to put macaroni on top eh!&lt;br /&gt;Me: But baby, macaroni is pasta. We don't put macaroni on top of a pizza. Why don't you make ham instead?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Oh, I was wrong Mommy. Not macaroni. I remember now... papa-roni! Where's the paparoni?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stressed... but more worried why Iakob is so sickly lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While watching the Philharmagic show, I looked over to see if Yakee was enjoying it and I saw him and his cousin Iya, arms outstretched, trying to touch the I-forgot-what... "and in the middle of the colored cartoon, I started to cry" :) Childhood innocence is sooo fleeting and sooo bittersweet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dates and tickets... Yakee and I are so lucky... thank you Pappie Jojo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-9174272191585809191?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/9174272191585809191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2011/09/challenged-and-challenging.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/9174272191585809191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/9174272191585809191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2011/09/challenged-and-challenging.html' title='Challenged and Challenging'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-4204592984719168999</id><published>2011-05-01T00:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T01:05:12.161+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yikes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><title type='text'>Physical, Imaginative Boy</title><content type='html'>It was a horrible day again for us yesterday... I was a horrible Mom again, being sick and preoccupied and you having all this restless energy with no more swimming lessons to burn them in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were days also recently wherein Ninang Gang allowed you to play outside but you'd get overzealous about running with the other neighborhood kids that you'd forget your boundaries and head where Ninang cannot see you... and both you and Ninang will come home upset... and you will vent your anger on me by hitting and biting me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I 'punished' you by 'no reading' for 3 days... explaining to you that it really hurts me when you hit, and I want you to feel how it is when there is no caring. Because you really love reading. And I think, this last day without you, you sort of finally understood. Plus, Pappie talked to you and instructed you to go hit the punching bag all you want when you're angry... and then smile after. Haha. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry too, I know you loved having a companion in Ate Duday for two weeks... but she couldn't stay with us. I know, I see, how much you want a regular playmate now... and regular play. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were great in your swimming lessons though... and have started with your summer parent-child class at St. Michael. I really hope we can come up with the funds to pay for your tuition there this June. Just a few thousand pesos short, my darling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're still a great brother although you really are getting more competitive for attention. Just last Black Saturday, you tried carrying the rocker with Yamee in it, I think, which resulted in the rocker tipping over with Yamee in it. Good thing he was strapped to it so I'm pretty sure he was just annoyed at the awkward position I found him in. Good thing too that you immediately called my attention to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh... you fell super in love with The Incredibles... but your imagination is getting the better of you. You're always pretending to be a superhero slaying a villain that you have started to hit for no reason, even strangers... which is why Mommy had to withdraw all TV/show privileges. Weirdly enough, you're surviving pretty well. You remember all the shows still but have accepted that you cannot watch any of your old shows... and actually seem to like watching all the cooking shows Mommy watches. Then again, they do sometimes eat bugs so you're intrigued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to make you eat, sleep and you still refuse to poop in the potty. And you're such a fan of veggies and fish, I really ought to just give you a bowl of them instead of rice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can now pretty much hitch yourself up anywhere... I was telling your father that you're actually not just lean, you're leanly muscled. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And lately... you have been telling me, reminding me, asking me, insisting that you're my baby. It is so hard trying to help you understand that you always will be... Sometimes, I know I am being hard on you because I do not know any better, and I am mostly scared. Sometimes, I know I am being hard on you because you're the eldest and I want you to set a good example for your little brother. It's unfair, darling, I know... but I really hope I can make you see that there are perks to all these.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;======================&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Miscellaneous FB status about you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;Yakee: Mommy, I think it's like a fountain.&lt;br /&gt;(referring to his peen when he pees)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee puts a ball on Yamee's chest&lt;br /&gt;"Look Mommy, he's a mermaid!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee tugs at my shirt.&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy, I swallowed a ball. I'm a mermaid now."&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;(things he thinks up over Mutya, hehe... told him he's a merman 'coz he's a boy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee's fave scapegoat-y thing to say: "I think the fairy got it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;was scolding Yakee last night for not eating properly when Yakee suddenly stood up in front of her and started singing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"sana'y pag-ibig na lang, ang isipin..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ampf&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy are you sad, or in love?" (Yakee)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It will be a series of classes for Yakee: swimming lessons from Bert Lozada Swim School (because we believe that knowing how to swim is empowering); play/life classes at St. Michael playhouse (parent-child program) and trial football classes with Futbol Unlimited. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think i'm starting the school run early :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy can I drawn with you?&lt;br /&gt;Me: You mean, draw?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: No, drawn... you know, like swimming.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Drown, you mean? You want to drown with me?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Yes!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yakee, please tell Yamee (who is gnawing on her arm) that Mommy is not food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: No, Mommy, it's ok. He's just practicing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, when Yamee grows up and is bigger, I will be happy. He can carry me! (super delighted face here)&lt;br /&gt;Mommy: Uhm, mahal, even if Yamee grows bigger, you will still be bigger than him since you're older so you will carry him. Unless he grows as big as Pappie before you do. &lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Yes, and when he's as big as Pappie, he will carry me! (sorry Yamee, intent si Kuya, you have your work cut out for you)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;asked Yakee to thread the yarn through the basket... he wound it around the stairs, furniture and his body instead. I am counting up to 100 :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee has been telling Pappie that he's angry with me because I'm always taking care of Yamee. Don't know what to do with the information since I feel it's my duty to give as much caring to Yamee as I did with Yakee... plus, Yamee keeps on crying from being woken up or gigil by Kuya. *disaster*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;has the happy problem of having a son who devours veggies, even bargains for more... but has to be prodded to eat his rice and meat. I won't bother with the rice if he wasn't so lean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last attempt at a Milkaholic pic coz all their shirts are getting small for them na&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Friends/The-Real-Friends/DDU-Family-Trip-Canyon-Cove/IMG4377/1231451638_XRLpB-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parenting confusion: Yakee throws bigger tantrums and tests his limits more after QT... how come? Shouldn't the quality, one-on-one time w/ a parent help mellow him out? Or pagod lang yung parent after the QT so the tantrums seem worse? *weird*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, this is not for swimming ok? This is a forest for the eating. (referring to Kainan sa Dalampasigan)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: See, Mommy's removing the core so you can eat more of the apple.&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Wow, Mommy, thank you so much. You are so good, you're a super Mommy... and I am the superhero Yakee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ehem... ehem :) *made my day*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: E is for Earth, it's the planet we live in.&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Planet? Like Pizza Planet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(hindi naman halatang nagka-Toy Story phase kami?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh gosh... sana lang 15 yrs from now, there won't be a pic like this... where Yakee's grinning as he puffs on a ciggy... and Yamee is trying to light up his *arrghhh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Blog-Pics-2011/i-BdVgMHb/0/M/img_4528-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terrible moment this morning: while crossing the road with Yakee, we witnessed a teenage boy snatching someone's Blackberry (from a jeep passenger). Realized how sheltered my boy's life had been. Realized too that I cannot shield him from society's evils for much longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while crossing the road&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, who snatched the cellphone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haysst....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;was looking forward to adoration only a baby can give to its Mom... alas, though, Yakee is the apple of Yamee's eyes! Hirit naman ni Pappie, "so dapat talaga magka-girl tayo para may fan naman ako?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;believes Yakee experienced one of his most bittersweet days yesterday... watching his brother try solid food (and being so happy about it) and forcing attention from everybody by being unruly (out of jealousy)... the curse &amp; privilege of being the eldest *haayst*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;has to believe that she has what it takes to parent her cantankerous 5-mo old and spirited 3-yr old. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not a flattering shot but this is what's keeping Yakee busy so far... and what's helping us with his energy levels. Don't know what we'll do once he's finished w/ the lessons, haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Children/Rubeus-Iakob-YAKEE/Swimming-Lessons-2011-with/i-gKNSn3W/0/S/imgp5286-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Proud of Yakee for being so supportive and happy for his younger bro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wet spots on the bed? Yamee. Scattered toys on the floor? Yakee. But the time when i'd have to really guess who did what and both boys denying everything is coming oh so soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;conversation between us&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Hello, butterfly.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Uhm, hi bee.&lt;br /&gt;Yakee (beaming): Butterfly, come, let's play.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Uhm, wait little bee. I have to change this caterpillar's (Yamee) diaper.&lt;br /&gt;...Yakee: Mommy, we are so cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hehe... so now, Yakee always calls me butterfly!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-4204592984719168999?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/4204592984719168999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2011/05/physical-imaginative-boy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/4204592984719168999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/4204592984719168999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2011/05/physical-imaginative-boy.html' title='Physical, Imaginative Boy'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-7531540112130634811</id><published>2011-03-04T09:05:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-30T23:38:49.544+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><title type='text'>Struggling and Sorry</title><content type='html'>It's Mommy-not-in-a-good-place meets Yakee-testing-his-limits-and-growing-more-jealous-of-brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And by jealous, I mean, you are fighting for attention since we mostly coo at Yamee now, not you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've been really testy most nights now. Last night, because I was sick and fed up already, I didn't do our bedtime rituals again. And in the dark you told me, "Mommy, I will make you happy. So you're not mad anymore. I will be sleepy." It broke my heart that I was not being a better parent... still, it took you over an hour before you settled down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, you're also always asking me if I'm angry, mad, upset or sad. And I hate it that you're trying to decipher my negative feelings. But oh darling, you are such a handful. I threatened you with a royal spanking yesterday because you were trying to put a piece of paper in Yamee's mouth, because you were probably wondering if he can do the whistle thing on it too, like you can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not all bad but it's really more a struggle these past few weeks. I have removed your TV time because I want both of us to be forced to connect and play. I let you waste two containers of glitter glue yesterday and will let you paint our CR walls again more regularly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still hoping to send you to St. Michael... you enjoyed the trial class because you loved the sandbox. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Yamee is really so used to you crowding him in his sleep. He even smiles more when he senses you than when he senses Pappie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're seldom without a cape now, made from a cloth diaper... even at Olly's christening. Lolo even thought it was for your sweat :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your level of imagination is still very good, seeing things in shapes and shapes in things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;===========&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miscellaneous FB updates:&lt;br /&gt;is so out of shape... she pulled a muscle just from playing tag with Yakee *sus*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hopes Yakee will get better na so he can freely hug Yamee again... hay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, I got your magazine from Ninang. I saved the day! (yup, recovering na sya)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when I thought id have to wait a year or two more before he draws something that makes sense to me, he draws this: himself :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Blog-Pics-2011/yakeedrawing/1164396942_iELc3-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naiyak ako when I saw this... what happened to my baby boy? Asan na sya! (aside, Yakee is the super spitting image of his Pappie here)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Blog-Pics-2011/163738101501281527536885669686/1205023702_mAbwy-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee helped Yamee roll on his front, unbeknownst to me. Seeing his baby brother wriggle like that while supporting his head, Yakee shouted, "Look Mommy look, he's a caterpillar!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee singing..."Jack be nimble went up the hill to fetch a pail of water..." (well, he also says Thomas and Jerry)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;waited for hubs and son to get home and they did at around 1 AM this morning... they were both sitting in the front row of Quirino Grandstand last night for the Chinese New Year festivities &amp; fireworks. Love Jojo Arevalo for keeping his promise of dancing dragons...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, last night, the dragons is not spit fire. There is no fire. (Chinese dancing dragons clashing with stories of knights slaying dragons)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Look Mommy, a dinosaur!&lt;br /&gt;(seeing the shape of a sauropod)&lt;br /&gt;Me: Wow, is that a diplodocus or a brachiasaurus?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee (indignant): No, no, it's the swimming dinosaur. The elamasaurus! (elasmasurus, anak)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;notice the gigil in YAKEE &lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Blog-Pics-2011/littlebrother-copy/1184048449_vQRwd-M.jpg" width="400" height="400"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I can't say yet that Yakee's bored...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Blog-Pics-2011/yakeemade/1177133259_PcqrR-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pappie: why did you ask momsy to buy the spaghetti if you're not going to eat it?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: because I have to.&lt;br /&gt;Pappie: you have to what?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: I have to get the car!&lt;br /&gt;(yikes, Jollibee kiddie meal has gotten to my son)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;told Yakee to wait'coz she's looking for money for the water. He tugs at her shirt handing her a peso. Sigh. Very reminiscent of Py&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(we're playing with play dough)&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, let's make Mr. Potato Head&lt;br /&gt;Mommy: ok&lt;br /&gt;(I start making a ball then I flattened it for more surface area for the eyes, nose, ears, etc)&lt;br /&gt;(Yakee saw what I made)&lt;br /&gt;...Yakee: Mommy no. I don't want a potato chip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, who is as big as Pappie, the elephant or the owl?&lt;br /&gt;(haha, syempre OWL ang sagot ko)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee singing: Old MacDonald plant a farm, e-i-e-i-o... &lt;br /&gt;(may point sya diba?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Pappie, I want to see the fireworks. Buy me a ticket. I want 3 tickets.&lt;br /&gt;Pappie: Why 3 tickets?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee; Because i'm 3 years old!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pappie: Uhm ok, but I don't have money.&lt;br /&gt;...Yakee: There is money in Mommy's bag. Come on, in the bag, get it. Come on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hopes her friend wasn't just being kind in telling her that Yakee telling and making up stories is a little advanced for his age. Consuelo de bopol for Mommy who hasn't yet taught him how to read. At least, he's just differently able academically... hehehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee playing with his magnifying glass&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy, let me see your heart."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think he'd have been confused if I said... "you're it." :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;putting a ribbon round his pappie&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Pappie, you're a gift.&lt;br /&gt;Pappie: I'm a gift?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Yes! You're a gift. Look Mommy, Pappie's a gift.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes, Pappie is God's gift to Mommy.&lt;br /&gt;...Yakee: Pappie, you're a gift. You're a Lego.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hope everyone had a nice Valentines :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;while cuddling with me yesterday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, who bought me?&lt;br /&gt;(I thought a long time)&lt;br /&gt;Me: I did. &lt;br /&gt;...Yakee: Thank you Mommy, thank you for buying me. (Feb 14)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;brought yakee to his trial class this morning... where 2 boys fought over who would help get the placemats... aylavet (Feb 21)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After reading Adarna House Si Pagong at Matsing to Yakee... he tells me, "Mommy, don't cook Yamee and make him red? Please?" (either he thinks of Yamee as a turtle or I should stop pretending i'll eat Yamee when I'm pretending to be a dinosaur)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Mommy, what to feed the ants?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ay no baby, we're not feeding the ants. They are not house pets!&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: But they need food. They will store for the rain. If I don't give food, what will they eat? They will go hungy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;arghhh&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-7531540112130634811?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/7531540112130634811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2011/03/struggling-and-sorry.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/7531540112130634811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/7531540112130634811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2011/03/struggling-and-sorry.html' title='Struggling and Sorry'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-948880464823324140</id><published>2011-01-23T02:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T02:39:57.573+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Sick Boy Getting Better</title><content type='html'>For some weird, I hope viral, reason... you got sick last Thursday. You just suddenly ran high fevers and even barfed twice. You also slept a lot and was just lethargic all day, it scared us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny though, when I started retching while helping clean your vomit up the second time, you quietly moved the basin where we told you to barf into in front of me. So sweet of you, even when sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following day, you pretty much recovered but I still brought you to the doctor. While waiting at the clinic, you kept telling me you loved me. And because we napped late that afternoon, we watched Ninja Assassin on HBO. You were greatly moved by all the violence, you kept asking me if you can learn that martial art and to buy you a ninja star. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and when you were running high fevers, I'd ask you to stay away from Yamee but you'd still end up sleeping beside him. Sometimes, you'd even drape your arm around him which will upset him since you'd be very hot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, am happy you're recovering baby. Love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-948880464823324140?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/948880464823324140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2011/01/sick-boy-getting-better.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/948880464823324140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/948880464823324140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2011/01/sick-boy-getting-better.html' title='Sick Boy Getting Better'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-2056254463103320</id><published>2011-01-20T04:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T04:04:56.823+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yey'/><title type='text'>Struggling With You</title><content type='html'>Discipline is a big issue for us these days. You've lately been really contrary. And we still have to find a way to cure you of your hitting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night though, before we watched The Shadow and the Phantom, you were singing a lot of songs to me. It's a delight having you come up with songs about our family and about RPG (the movie). I'd have recorded it but it would spoil the moment. I also started you on tongue twisters. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh, I dunno why Mockingbird Hill is your current fave lullaby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toy Story 3 was your first movie in a theater. The second is RPG: Metanoia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And because Yamee's getting to be more engaging, you have been seeking attention by gigil-ing him or us. But always, you tell him you love him. And you remind me to get him. And you still don't like sharing him with Ice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misc FB updates and asides:&lt;br /&gt;~ is so out of shape... she pulled a muscle just from playing tag with Yakee *sus*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ Yakee was just 1 year and 2 months old here... picking up candy/cookie crumbs from the Cookie Xmas tree... I am feeling senti coz he woke up at 5 AM today, asked for milk, 2 bowls of cereals, a banana and a sandwich&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ Me: "I thought I was your lady love and the Queen?" Yakee: "Yes Mommy. But you have to change clothes Mommy." (uhm... yun ba ang ginagawa ni Queen Guinevere for King Arthur and Sir Lancelot noon? wehehe)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ Yakee: Papa Jesus, thank you for watching Metanoia. They have guns! They are fighting the guns!!! (yun lang!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ It breaks my heart that one way Yakee's coping with his father's absence (due to work) is to 'reassure' Yamee all the time that there's "no more Pappie," projecting to his younger bro his expectation setting...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ Yakee: I want to follow you! Ninang: You're not my shadow! (talaga naman!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ Yakee: Mommy I have a face. I cannot remove my face!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ Yakee: Come on, ninang, let's make the puzzle! Ninang: You make it, i'll just watch. Yakee: But... but... I'm not perfect!!! (nyahahaha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ Pappie: Yakee, let's share your milk. (drinks from Yakee's cup) Mmmm, now Pappie will grow big and strong like Yakee! Yakee: Yes!!! Because this is Mommy's milk! (silence) Pappie (to me): Mahal, milk mo ba to? Yung totoo?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ Pappie: "Ouch, you hit Pappie's eggs." (referring to his balls) Yakee (confused): "Where?" Pappie (still trying to remember the right term to use): "You know what, you also have eggs." Yakee (indignant now): "No Pappie, no. I cannot have eggs. I'm not a dinosaur." (referring to animals laying eggs)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ heard Yakee was tying his Pappie up so he can't go to work... awawa, miss ang tatay! (hubs has been working real late kc)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-2056254463103320?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/2056254463103320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2011/01/struggling-with-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2056254463103320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2056254463103320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2011/01/struggling-with-you.html' title='Struggling With You'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-3591589499426895307</id><published>2010-12-20T03:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T03:01:33.856+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ouch'/><title type='text'>Just So You Know</title><content type='html'>... I love you so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Mommy lost it with you earlier, because you were hitting Mommy when I was just talking to you about respecting Ice's property. I lost it because you still haven't even apologized for biting me so hard the other day, with the bite still bruised till now. I hate having you turn on me and I hated realizing just how big and strong you're getting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're really not a baby anymore. And despite the fear, the pain, the sadness over you growing up, there is also that celebration of your willfulness that must only come from being so loved and raised feeling secure. You're your own person and a thinking one at that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy is sorry, not really for hitting you, but for still learning how to discipline you better. Mommy is sorry for being tired and sleepy and for not being more strict with our structure, our routines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, but how I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You wowed a pretty girl and her Mom at Aristocrat, enough to get her to ask for a balloon for you. She said you're very smart. Later, you'd get people looking and smiling by using a display platform at Robinson's Place as a stage. You danced to music from your father's phone. Half the time, you danced like a dork. But we were proud and you were happy :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the book given to you by Ninag Jet (I hope you dance) is taking seed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know that you're ready for puzzles (acting intimidated by them lots of times before) but look at you here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Pics-for-Blog-Posts/yakeepuzzle/1121288569_cupbd-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your grandparents love you, baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Pics-for-Blog-Posts/yakeeloot/1121288509_6V93N-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a scare for a while about you having primary complex. But Dr. Mantaring said to observe you for a while since he doesn't believe you do. Not when  you're that talkative and interactive... I thank God that you are thriving, baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were fighting with Ice earlier on who's able to really 'gentle touch' Yamee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite all the major, major tantrums and meltdowns lately, you have never lashed out at Yamee. So, I just know, you really have a protective sense for him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miscellaneous FB statuses concerning you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ sniffs... Yakee's big enough to warrant entrance fee at Star City... and to be able to ride more rides... *bittersweet emote* &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ can just imagine Yakee's delight from watching Little Big Club... hope Pappie can manage and they'd have a blast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ Yakee: No, Pappie, that's not a fart. That's a FROG. (after Pappie told Yakee that Yamee is farting)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ sporting a swollen wrist from Yakee's bite... and scratches in the other. I love my son but some days, I just want him detained somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ wonders how to best impart to Yakee that his every thought shouldn't be spoken out loud,especially if he's saying someone is ugly or has funny eyes (You see, at Dampa, you said, "Pappy look, funny eyes" at the man selling glow sticks... then when Ninang Gang was hangig the wash, you said, "Ninang, you know, that girl, so ugly." referring to the neighbor's helper)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ overheard Pappie reading to Yakee, "And this is the ankylosaurus, the dinosaur whose balls are misplaced. So you, you shouldn't ever misplace your balls ha?" (so yeah, if not for the bonding component, I wouldn't allow him to read to our son)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ sighs... after some 20 mins of crying to let him in when he could do it himself, now Yakee is crying for me to lock him outside&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ "Arrgh... the brothers keep pooping together! And just when am about to pump!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ hates that Yakee's been diagnosed with primary complex, she just hopes nobody from their home gave it to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ shares (overhearing Yamee crying at the other house) Yakee: "Mommy, get Yamee! Take care of him, Mommy, please, please."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ hopes that the brothers who poop together, grow up loving each other :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ is concerned abt Yakee's on and off fever but is opting to not overworry since the child can still throw tantrums as usual&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ hopes Big Brother Yakee's fever is a viral something, and not because she's been negligent of her firstborn *haaayst*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-3591589499426895307?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/3591589499426895307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/12/just-so-you-know.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3591589499426895307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3591589499426895307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/12/just-so-you-know.html' title='Just So You Know'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-380152678511087963</id><published>2010-11-28T13:41:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-28T13:42:55.274+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><title type='text'>How to Eat Ma Mon Luk Siopao</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Pics-for-Blog-Posts/yakeemamonluk/1106849086_DhCB2-S.jpg" width="400" height="400"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-380152678511087963?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/380152678511087963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/11/how-to-eat-ma-mon-luk-siopao.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/380152678511087963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/380152678511087963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/11/how-to-eat-ma-mon-luk-siopao.html' title='How to Eat Ma Mon Luk Siopao'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-495261199416260221</id><published>2010-11-27T16:58:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T17:13:23.084+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Yakee as Big Brother</title><content type='html'>I have been resisting the urge to update here, darling, maybe because it's going to make everything official. And no, it has nothing to do with your quality as big brother, because you're simply superb as one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, of course, as expected, you were generally conflicted about Yamee when first you met him in the hospital. You found him cute and slightly interesting but you were more intent on playing with Iya. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, the following day, we had to ask that you not be brought to the hospital because Mommy was in pain, Pappie had a migraine and Yamee needed us. We just couldn't handle your exuberant spirit as well (especially since you and Iya were so noisy and playful at the OB ward) and we know that saddened you. I know that you looked for me and one time even refused to talk to Pappie but cried because you wanted to talk to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, how I missed you that time, darling. I really did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, of course, Lianne arrived and you had another playmate to interest you with. And then Mommy had the blues and you were confused why you had to start sleeping with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh... you also hit Mommy's cut at the hospital, just before she was being discharged. And you hit it again that first night you joined us to sleep. And then, in anger when Mommy was asking you what you wanted for breakfast. All unintentional and all confusing and painful for you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all those times you were hiding tears because I had to reprimand you for not minding Mommy's ouchie... or when I have to ask you to wait because I have to attend to myself or Yamee... those were bittersweet for me indeed. It pained me to see you dealing with emotions you don't understand, but I also love watching you grow up and learn to cope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some FB alerts involving you, and other snippets: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, you insist his name is &lt;strong&gt;YAMNYOY&lt;/strong&gt;... you first thought it up, in your usual make-up-words fashion, and the Arevalo clan seems to have reinforced it. Now, it's stuck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you saw Ninang Grace bing gigil to Yamee during our video call earlier, you said, "Ninang, you cannot eat him." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One time you told me that my stomach is small and I acknowledged that it is smaller. Then you said, "See, I can sit on your lap again." Awww&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will get jealous of the time we give to Yamee but you're very protective of him too. Nobody can 'ask for him' and no child can touch him w/o your permission. And you always introduce him :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You always say Yamee is the cute one, and you're the handsome one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You sometimes insist on holding Yamee's hand or foot but end up sorta pulling on them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everytime you see Yamee, you say, "Awww, he's so cute." And in darling voice too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One time I asked Pappie to bring us to Quirino so you can maybe play, when you realized we were bringing you along, you shouted, "Yehey, I am going." :)  This was after we brought Yamee for a checkup and didn't bring you along. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While still in LP, and we were talking to you about returning to Paco, you told Pappie, "Let's bring Yamnyoy with us ha Pappie?" :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you spilled some milk on the floor because you were not minding your cup, and I shouted (because I was stressed at having to mind you, Yamee and myself as we were going out) then Yamee started crying, you told your brother, "It's ok Yamee, it's ok, it's just some milk." :) projection... but that shut Mommy up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You also lose sleep when Yamee cries so we try as much as possible to change him downstairs. But sometimes, when you hear him crying downstairs, you also wake Pappie up and tell him that Yamnyoy needs help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever Yamee cries, you say... "Yamnyoy, don't worry, Mommy/Pappie?kuya's here." and then you tell us, "Mommy/Pappie... Yamnyoy needs help."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was threatening Yamee that I'll just donate my bmilk 'coz he wasn't nursing well when Yakee intervenes by saying, "mommy, dont be angry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wonders what to make of Yakee putting a clip on his tutuy... do I stop him? cheer him on? just let him be? Napapa-ouch na lang ako :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee to Yamee when Yamee started crying: "Wait Yamnyoy, wait, Mommy's angry." (I was angry with you because you weren't packing your toys) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee to me while Pappie was changing my bandage: "It's ok Mommy, don't worry, here... hold my hand." (sniff)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee to guy fixing MIL's roof: "Kuya Roger, fly! Come on!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're into KNIGHTS now... and insists on being dubbed by your father at least once a day. Hangers are usually your sword and the pitcher cover your shield.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're also into Lego Power Miners now... but I find it's too violent an interest for you. Not only do you love the driller tank they have (thunder driller) but you get rambunctious pretending to be a rock monster.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-495261199416260221?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/495261199416260221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/11/yakee-as-big-brother.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/495261199416260221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/495261199416260221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/11/yakee-as-big-brother.html' title='Yakee as Big Brother'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-2641120210231236765</id><published>2010-11-09T20:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T20:31:48.312+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><title type='text'>Crazy Pogi</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Pics-for-Blog-Posts/yakeewithbumblebee/1081327874_6XqBJ-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Pics-for-Blog-Posts/yakeesilly2/1081327139_Ee9UY-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Pics-for-Blog-Posts/yakeesilly/1081326663_MJEBC-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-2641120210231236765?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/2641120210231236765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/11/crazy-pogi.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2641120210231236765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2641120210231236765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/11/crazy-pogi.html' title='Crazy Pogi'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-4850972467022267317</id><published>2010-11-08T02:13:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-08T02:28:10.427+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>He's a Big Kid Now</title><content type='html'>POOP TALK&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Friday, November 5, you were just wearing shorts for you had already pooped and I have been training you to really just tell us if you need to pee in the potty when you excitedly told me that you wanted to poop. For a minute there I didn't know what to do so I just asked if you'd do it in the potty (because you never agreed to it before and always insisted that you're wearing a diaper when you poop, sometimes, you won't even do it unless you're home here in Paco) and you said YES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You managed to keep everything in and just let go after I have seated you in the potty seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just like that, you pooped in the potty for real. And of course, we were so proud!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, Sunday, while Pappie was pooping, you told me again that you had to go. Good thing your potty seat was outside and I got you to sit there and you did your business. It sort of scandalized you to be hearing your poop hit plastic though, and not water but still, again, you pooped in a potty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just hope your brother's coming won't dampen your drive to go potty in the potty. I'd really love to not have to keep buying diapers for you, you know. We can save up the money and buy Lego sets instead, hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VERBAL DEVELOPMENT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once, a week or two ago, you jumped/dived on Pappie which ended up hurting him. He scolded you and you reasoned out. You said, "But I am a super hero eh, I am flying." :)  Pappie then had to acknowledge that he understands you are a superhero but reminded you that superheroes don't hurt people. He gave you permission to fly as much as you want if you'd be careful and not hurt anybody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are really very talkative now. You're still apt to be contrary and reverse psychology still works with you, but you also tend to reason out more now. You also never fail to remind me to be proud of you, for outting on your socks all by yourself, or removing your shoes/socks all by yourself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days ago, I told you that soon, my tummy will be small again. Then you asked, "And I can sit on your lap again?" :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So sometimes, I would allow you to sit there even if it's a real discomfort. And during Mass, I encouraged you to be on my lap and to take your nap there in my arms. I had to hand you over to your father after a while but it was really bittersweet how I haven't held you like that in my arms for a long time now. Usually, you'd sleep beside me, even in the car, and not anymore in my arms. And as my tummy grew and we instructed you to defend it and protect it, that kind of closeness has been deprived us both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a privilege holding you like that for over two years, Yakee, and I really missed it. I am sorry you missed it too. But you do know I love you right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worry about the coming days where we'd all have to adjust to Yamee. But somehow, you have reassured me time and again that you are really aware of a baby on the way, and that you will be a good big brother to him. Yamee is so lucky. We are so lucky that you're you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-4850972467022267317?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/4850972467022267317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/11/hes-big-kid-now.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/4850972467022267317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/4850972467022267317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/11/hes-big-kid-now.html' title='He&apos;s a Big Kid Now'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-2133684050151449130</id><published>2010-11-03T17:10:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-03T17:17:26.671+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Good Boy</title><content type='html'>Tito Trek lugged the heavy water container for the water dispenser and you said, "Wow, wonderful. Very good!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all smiled and Tito Trek said that it's only from you that he gets stuff like that, appreciation for the little things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then he related how he was scolding Iya last night and you came in between them, held his face and told him "It's ok Tito, it's ok." meaning for him to stop. Ninang Ira related that you did the same when she was scolding Iya yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love how you're trying to play peacemaker. I love that you realize when something wrong was done and try to avert any scolding or disciplining. I love that you validate others and seek validation yourself all the time. I love how it's a testament to how secure you are and how secure we've made you feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are still learning to be good, but I know, and others validate... that you ARE a good boy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-2133684050151449130?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/2133684050151449130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/11/good-boy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2133684050151449130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2133684050151449130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/11/good-boy.html' title='Good Boy'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-7946324947071332691</id><published>2010-10-20T19:47:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T19:58:30.134+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yey'/><title type='text'>Miscellaneous FB Updates About You</title><content type='html'>My many FB status involving you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Look Mommy, it's the letter C! C is for Ribbon!!! (ehm... same lang ba to if I give him A for Effort?) :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woke up to leg cramping and awakened Yakee... who touched my belly and asked, "Mommy, ouchie?" and kissed and hugged me there while I was still cramping!  Kalurkei... but yes, my boy is sweet... I just couldn't help but wish he also knew how to massage my leg :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amazed to just suddenly hear Yakee singing "Hush Little Baby" while strumming his guitar... who cares if I alone can understand the words :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shares how, after Pappie pretend knighted Yakee (complete with kneeling Yakee dubbed as Sir Yakee of Paco), Yakee came to her and whispered, "I want to hit the king" and proceeded to poke Pappie, the king, with his sword (a plastic hanger).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy, you will fall. Here is Pappie's pillow, put it there so you not fall. There, that's perfect!" (Yakee upon waking up and seeing me near the edge of the bed, imitating how I always put a pillow there for him, but I don't say "it's perfect," that's all him)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=================&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just this afternoon, I was giving you your blanket (since you seldom sleep without holding one) and you said that it's mine. You proceeded to wrap me in it and then said, "There Mommy, you're not cold anymore." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then you held my hand and fell asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, it's either we have to hold hands or I have to meme you so you'd sleep. This on top of the stories and singing you insist upon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=================&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You also insisted on breastfeeding and I let you. Then you said you're breastfeeding like Yamee. Ahehe. You don't know how to anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=================&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am super proud that you can already recite nursery rhymes like Wee Willie Winkie, The Grand Old Duke of York, Bobby Shafto's Gone to Sea, Jack Be Nimble, Curly Locks, Simple Simon and many more. I just know your grandparents will be impressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=================&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You still call me Princess... but lately you've also started calling me PRECIOUS. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=================&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're shaking your hips as I type this post.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-7946324947071332691?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/7946324947071332691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/10/miscellaneous-fb-updates-about-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/7946324947071332691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/7946324947071332691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/10/miscellaneous-fb-updates-about-you.html' title='Miscellaneous FB Updates About You'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-1479184130167219424</id><published>2010-10-08T20:46:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-08T20:52:26.514+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yikes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ouch'/><title type='text'>Sigh</title><content type='html'>Because Mommy lacked redirection strategies, and you can be real ornery sometimes, you attacked Mommy basically when Mommy put the chairs you were playing with on timeout, because you were not listening to what Mommy was saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You bit Mommy on the stomach. Hard. Enough to make Mommy really scream and cry for hours after. I have yet to take a picture of the bruise, and it goes without saying, Mommy felt abused. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spanked you once and put you on timeout, then locked myself in our bedroom lest I upset you more, or get more hurt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-1479184130167219424?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/1479184130167219424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/10/sigh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1479184130167219424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1479184130167219424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/10/sigh.html' title='Sigh'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-7922502396925968997</id><published>2010-10-06T11:24:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-06T11:28:19.900+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Hyper Even In Sleep</title><content type='html'>Back when you were still co-sleeping with us, we already had a problem with how you'd cram us towards the edge of the bed (or wall) and end up kicking us in various places as you just change positions many times during the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, after you got your own bed, you seemed to take to the bigger space like fish to water. It's not unusual to have some parts of you literally spilling over onto the floor in your sleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem now is when you join us in the big bed, you somehow tend to be as freely moving in our bed as yours, so we get kicked all the more. I literally have to push you or roll you just for breathing space, or to avoid your kicks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even in sleep, you can't quite be still. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you, tomorrow is your birthday. Can't believe I have been loving you for three years now (plus the months you were inside my tummy).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-7922502396925968997?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/7922502396925968997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/10/hyper-even-in-sleep.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/7922502396925968997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/7922502396925968997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/10/hyper-even-in-sleep.html' title='Hyper Even In Sleep'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-6352258615260067757</id><published>2010-09-27T08:19:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T08:26:03.365+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>My Sweet Child</title><content type='html'>Last night, I started getting dizzy so I had to hurry your bath so I can give you to your father while I hurriedly lay down. Pappie was the one who read to you and though you didn't like it, accepted that he'd only read one book (as he still had work to do). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You started asking for the usual stuff that you've been lately asking for, like a song from Mommy, for Mommy to sleep beside you (or if you can join me in the big bed already) and meme. Mommy explained that Mommy really isn't feeling well and said sorry. You sat up, said "It's ok, Mommy." and touched my foot. Then you settled down in bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy woke up at past 12 and wasn't able to sleep again. Around 3 AM, when Mommy came up again after her nth wiwi break, you started stirring and Mommy decided to lie down beside you. You turned to Mommy and asked, "You better?" and that was the sweetest, sweetest thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you, Yakee. I know Mommy's been short with you a lot of times and that she can be a better Mom... but she really knows how blessed she is to have you for a child.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-6352258615260067757?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/6352258615260067757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-sweet-child.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/6352258615260067757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/6352258615260067757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-sweet-child.html' title='My Sweet Child'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-5571329456057926000</id><published>2010-09-24T03:40:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-24T03:46:02.572+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>You and Harry Potter</title><content type='html'>I started watching the HP movies and so, of course, you got exposed to them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You generally say, "Hairy Potter" and I don't know why because am sure I say HARRY right. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chamber of Secrets is "Hairy Potter and the Big Snake" for you. Prisoner of Azkaban is ""Hairy Potter and the Flying Mumu."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of the lot, your fave is CoS because it has giant spiders, the big snake, and Dobby plus the flying car and 'angry tree.' Of course, you also like Goblet of Fire 'coz of the dragon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You keep forgetting Harry's name (you weird boy) and refer to Hermione as "the pretty girl." You refer to Ginny and Luna as "other pretty girls" and refer to Hagrid as "the giant, like me" because we told you how you were named after him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You sometimes pretend to have a wand and have actually mastered the art of shouting "Ridikulus" :) And sometimes you tell me you want us to read Harry Potter... so I tell you that you have some 8 more years of growing to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-5571329456057926000?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/5571329456057926000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/09/you-and-harry-potter.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/5571329456057926000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/5571329456057926000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/09/you-and-harry-potter.html' title='You and Harry Potter'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-6366838909358875194</id><published>2010-09-02T13:56:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T14:13:21.710+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>Yakee's Milestones</title><content type='html'>You have been sleeping mostly on your own for almost a month now. We made your bed August 11 and asked you to sleep there and you did, without fuss and fanfare. About a week into the arrangement you started asking to go back to the big bed but would still really sleep in your bed. And then sometimes you'd insist on having one of us sleep with you there. Pappie usually obliges you and just transfers to the big bed after you've fallen asleep. And then in the wee hours of the morning, you'd join us in the big bed, usually just before Pappie wakes up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I welcome you into my arms when you do join us in the mornings because I do miss your warmth. Pappie and I have gotten used to having somebody separating us that we still sleep near the edge of the bed to make room for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out of happiness last night, you thought to dive-push Mommy. Unfortunately, we were on the stairs and Mommy almost fell. Mommy was sooo scared and you could tell Mommy was really upset when Mommy scolded you about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we settled down in your bed for bedtime reading, you chose the "I'm a big brother book" :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of Mommy's FB status about you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy is turning son into a Potterhead. Ask Yakee what he likes and he'd say, "Hairy Potter and the Big Snake" :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy wondered aloud what Yakee will wear to a costume bday party and hubs said to ask Yakee. He asked Yakee, "What do you want your costume to be, baby?" to which Yakee replied, "A butterfly!" SILENCE FOLLOWED then Pappie asked, "What's your next option mahal?" to which Yakee replied, "Uhmmm... a bee!" (ask Yakee pala ha!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy was showing the linea negra on her tummy to Yakee, and he says, "wow, like a fireman's pole"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy left her son to watch a centipede in the sink, he used the end of his toothbrush to kill it. How mean! (really son, I hope you'd learn to be gentle with creatures... we only kill mice and cockroaches!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee turned to me and said, "Mommy where are the girls? I want the girls." (yung Miss U pageant) :D (You still like watching the opening to see the girls in national costumes 'coz you like the ones in butterfly outfits)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yakee singing the Toy Story theme song..."I forgot a friend in me... I forgot a friend in me..." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;realized there are things a mother's love can't deliver... like Yakee asking her to make him a girl :D (this was because you wanted to play with Tita Grace's makeup and Ninang Gang told you it's only for girls)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You look more like Pappie when your hair was longer, but now that it's cut clean, you look more like Mommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You also seemed to be gaining more weight with Pedzinc and Incremin but you like Vidaylin vitamins and haven't gotten sick since you started on that. Mommy's just having issues with your constipation, usually coz of grapes and partly coz of potty training (as you won't poop without a diaper on)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-6366838909358875194?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/6366838909358875194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/09/yakees-milestones.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/6366838909358875194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/6366838909358875194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/09/yakees-milestones.html' title='Yakee&apos;s Milestones'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-4808868146572002433</id><published>2010-08-11T07:18:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-11T07:33:28.444+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ouch'/><title type='text'>A Month of Updates</title><content type='html'>... and I can't think of anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But ahh, last night, while playing in your tub, and Mommy was showering with you after we both got steamed... you said, "Mommy, your breasts are my friends." I asked why and you said, "Because I dudu." :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the OB check-up I had, you asked me if the doctor was going to give you a lollipop. The poor OB then had to steal a candy from the pedia she's sharing the clinic with to give to you. Needless to say though, you were happy. And the candy habit with doctors was further reinforced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you were reunited with Lianne and Iya that weekend you all visited Lolo before he was disachrged from the hospital, the girls refused to play with you and even closed the door on you, which led you to crying. Yaya scolded them for you but well, they had a good reason though... you liked boxing with them :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then last weekend, you wanted to play with your friends (Kat, Eli, Nicole) but they didn't want to play with a boy. You rushed to me and called me and you were oh so cute trying to fight back tears. All the guests at the baptism found you adorable as you blinked back tears, then succumbed to weeping. Mommy's heart was broken with yours, darling...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later though, you accidentally kicked Zach on the lip as you boys were playing with a balloon. And you and Zach and Nicole all swam in the pool without really playing with each other. Hehe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pappie made you this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Pics-for-Blog-Posts/yakeewithwings/953701880_tmChw-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a while, you like chanting, "I'm a robot, a crazy robot." while wearing it. But now, when I put it on you, you tell me you're a plane. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About two weeks ago, you decided to climb the stairs while hanging on the rails, on the danger side. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you have been enjoying the new mattresses as jumping boards. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart bled again when you refused to join the Gymboree thingie because you didn't know any of the kids. We really have to get you into a class and get you used to interacting with strangers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-4808868146572002433?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/4808868146572002433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/08/month-of-updates.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/4808868146572002433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/4808868146572002433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/08/month-of-updates.html' title='A Month of Updates'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-5119954023047579273</id><published>2010-07-19T11:44:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-19T11:49:08.548+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Big Boy You</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, you went with Ninang Ira, Tito Trek and Iya to the birthday party of Iya's classmate. And I heard you had lots of fun and ate lots too. It was a little bittersweet watching you leave with them without a fuss, just excited about the party you're going to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pappie was having a more difficult time letting you go... told him this was another sign that you really aren't a baby anymore because you're stepping out of comfort zones, like not having Mommy around. I just hope, it's because Mommy and Pappie have always been there that you're more secure about being away from us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you baby. You just caught Ninang's expression "Infernes" :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ninang Ira said while playing with so many balls, you said, "This is so fun."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then at the elevator, when we were going up to the waiting room at the hospital, you said, "I'm so happy today."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's wrong for Mommy to take credit but I really think it's because of the quality of your relationships that you can express such feelings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-5119954023047579273?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/5119954023047579273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/07/big-boy-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/5119954023047579273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/5119954023047579273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/07/big-boy-you.html' title='Big Boy You'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-869980585855515791</id><published>2010-07-16T16:22:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-16T16:27:36.104+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ouch'/><title type='text'>Pains and Tales from Yesterday</title><content type='html'>We went back to Dr. Mantaring for your Hepa booster shot yesterday. You were generally engaging the entire time we were waiting, even fanning the babies like I told you to. You did throw a tantrum for a while but did not end the day on a bad note. Plus, Doc said you're at least pretty advanced generally for a child your age. He also said not to worry about your weight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you were so brave, did not cry over the injection, and even started wiping the alcohol-soaked cotton bud all over your arm after... and your face. Hehe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You did touch a speculum, to which Doc said, "Do you know where that is placed? Yuck!" :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when I showed you how Yamee looks at 5 months from a picture chart, you said, "Ewww, smelly, like Pappie." :D The clerk thought we had a puppy dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You slipped last night after Pappie washed you and hit your head on the edge of the CR step. Your head bled a little. Awww. But you seem generally okay today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-869980585855515791?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/869980585855515791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/07/pains-and-tales-from-yesterday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/869980585855515791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/869980585855515791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/07/pains-and-tales-from-yesterday.html' title='Pains and Tales from Yesterday'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-7124182009146824079</id><published>2010-07-04T13:37:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T13:39:18.773+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Conversations with Pappie</title><content type='html'>Pappie: Yakee, what do you think Yamee is, a boy or a girl?&lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Yamee is a girl... but I want a baby brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, after playing at the MOA Park, on the way to the car... Yakee turns to hubs and asks, "Pappie, did you have fun?" :) Isn't that so cute???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-7124182009146824079?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/7124182009146824079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/07/conversations-with-pappie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/7124182009146824079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/7124182009146824079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/07/conversations-with-pappie.html' title='Conversations with Pappie'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-7162537960097535602</id><published>2010-07-02T12:09:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T12:17:07.672+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><title type='text'>Playing in the Rain</title><content type='html'>Yakee enjoyed swimming in his cousins' inflatable pool last Sunday but more than that, he had a field day playing in the rain. I think I almost gave birth from fear of having him slip on the wet cement as he immitated his cousins and ran to and fro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Family/Happy-Celebrations/June-2010-Reunion-Birthday/IMG1370/916649203_j2oY4-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Family/Happy-Celebrations/June-2010-Reunion-Birthday/IMG1368/916646636_KBFDk-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Family/Happy-Celebrations/June-2010-Reunion-Birthday/IMG1367/916645557_Un5Zj-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Family/Happy-Celebrations/June-2010-Reunion-Birthday/IMG1373/916653227_3FXJA-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Family/Happy-Celebrations/June-2010-Reunion-Birthday/IMG1375/916655727_bUBE2-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Family/Happy-Celebrations/June-2010-Reunion-Birthday/IMG1374/916654412_cvL7J-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-7162537960097535602?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/7162537960097535602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/07/playing-in-rain.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/7162537960097535602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/7162537960097535602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/07/playing-in-rain.html' title='Playing in the Rain'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-8250722404322646755</id><published>2010-06-17T00:48:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-17T01:04:39.211+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>Toilet Humor And Success</title><content type='html'>At SM Manila, you insisted on following Ninang to the ladies room. Curious about all the girls going in and out of the cubicles, you told Ninang, "Why are they hiding ha, Ninang? Why are they hiding? They scared? It's ok, let's wait. We'll hide too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ninang removed your diaper because she found poop in it. You were raging about it so I said that you might not yet be finished. Then she didn't put a diaper on you just yet, since we are toilet training you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You weren't finished yet, just like what Mommy thought and you told Ninang you're going to poop. You succesfully pooped in the toilet bowl but wasn't used to really pooping that way so Ninang got you off the bowl when you were still straining. So a poop particle fell on the CR floor and you were scandalized by that. After washing you and sending you off to the bed to wait for her, you had another accident on the floor. You got scandalized again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, that's a potty success right there. We really just have to get you used to your potty chair so you can take all the time you need to poop properly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-8250722404322646755?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/8250722404322646755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/06/toilet-humor-and-success.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/8250722404322646755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/8250722404322646755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/06/toilet-humor-and-success.html' title='Toilet Humor And Success'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-4393376490289764592</id><published>2010-06-14T12:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-14T12:40:00.186+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><title type='text'>Night Swimming Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Family/Happy-Celebrations/Night-Swimming-at-El-Madero/IMGP3682/895219192_c9sQJ-M-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Family/Happy-Celebrations/Night-Swimming-at-El-Madero/IMGP3680/895218651_WgaX4-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Family/Happy-Celebrations/Night-Swimming-at-El-Madero/IMGP3767/895230759_3JUp9-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Family/Happy-Celebrations/Night-Swimming-at-El-Madero/IMGP3799/895236328_UbEeb-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You really had a grand time when we went night swimming at &lt;a href="http://www.hthyou.com/2010/06/el-madero-farm-resort.html"&gt;El Madero Farm &amp; Resort&lt;/a&gt;. A few years more and you can really run with the wolves that are your cousins. Sigh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-4393376490289764592?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/4393376490289764592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/06/night-swimming-pictures.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/4393376490289764592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/4393376490289764592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/06/night-swimming-pictures.html' title='Night Swimming Pictures'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-1012725162939590962</id><published>2010-06-13T00:31:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T00:40:04.459+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Miscellaneous Tales and Updates</title><content type='html'>The latest thing you said that really had me finding you all kinds of cute is when you were holding a toy styracosaurus and said, "Come Cera, three-horns don't play with long necks." That's complete with voice modulation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, it is now obvious that you watch Land Before Time almost every day... and sometimes, even twice a day (but Mommy won't let that happen again).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have also taken to saying, "My tummy is talking." whenever your tummy rumbles in hunger, or when you feel full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have taken to waking me up by saying, "Mommy, I'm hungry." and you're back to waking up real late again, we're having problems with afternoon naps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We think you're catching my LIHI because you insist on sharing MY food and having midnight snacks. Last night, despite a full dinner and dessert, you started appealing to me to feed you because you're hungry. You started that around 11 and I gave in at 11:30 and cooked instant noodles for us. You kept refusing milk, you see, and kept asking for grapes or banana, both of which we didn't have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around three days ago, you asked Ninang why your tutuy is down... and went upstairs to ask Mommy the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You would also sometimes say, "hey, what are you doing there baby?" :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You had a grand time at Market, Market today but was really contrary lots of times. The finale of your day was spending several minutes riding a broken backhoe and front loader near your Pappie's office, with a lollipop in your mouth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Believe me son, you may have been shouted a lot and spanked even, but you are loved. Way, way loved.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-1012725162939590962?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/1012725162939590962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/06/miscellaneous-tales-and-updates.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1012725162939590962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1012725162939590962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/06/miscellaneous-tales-and-updates.html' title='Miscellaneous Tales and Updates'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-6515854870002297292</id><published>2010-06-01T00:19:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T00:28:21.419+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yikes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Gross Baby and Other Stories</title><content type='html'>Well, for what it's worth, you were really just being a baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You pooped and was curious enough to have to check it out by poking a finger or two in your diaper. Then you told me you pooped and showed me your soiled finger. Since Mommy was eating, Mommy asked you to wait so Mommy can finish... plus, both CRs in the two households were occupied. Of course, you were impatient. You decided to use your clean fingers to touch your soiled fingers. Curiousity, I guess... or just your penchant to be contrary after being told not to touch your soiled fingers with your clean ones. And because it's lately become a bad habit, you absent-mindedly put your cleaner finger in your mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I went ballistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of Ice's whistles has been gathering dust and germs outside for several days. My fault, I have been telling myself one of you might decide to pick it up and put it in your mouth. After Mass yesterday, that's exactly what you did. After ignoring that whistle for several days, you just decided it would be nice to blow on it again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went ballistic again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told your father later that if you got sick, it's all your fault really because you were gross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon waking up and hearing me tell you that Lolo's back, you immediately asked for the lollipops Lola showed you on webcam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I was so proud to see you kicking and moving that mat during your swimming lessons today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to spank you earlier because you were being very aggressive and violent already with Ice. I know having Lolo around is stressing you even if you are happy to see him... but after your last attack on Ice, who was just following Lolo around, I just felt you needed to really be spanked on top of timeout and "no listening" from Mommy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indeed, after that outburst, you mellowed down and calmed down enough... only to scare us again as you pretended to be a vicious dinosaur. Pappie started re-thinking his "No to Care Bears" stance after that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-6515854870002297292?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/6515854870002297292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/06/gross-baby-and-other-stories.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/6515854870002297292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/6515854870002297292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/06/gross-baby-and-other-stories.html' title='Gross Baby and Other Stories'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-8424818079062316885</id><published>2010-05-23T11:17:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-23T11:30:03.817+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Shiny, Happy People</title><content type='html'>Your favorite video now is Elmo Loves You, and your fave song there is the Furry, Happy Monsters song which is a parody of the REM song Shiny, Happy People. You can watch the video more than 3 times a day if we'd let you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/we_bSR3wrgY&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/we_bSR3wrgY&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Pappie was sick and I told you he's going to the doctor, you asked if he's going to get a lollipop. When I told you that he's going to a different doctor, you asked if he's still getting a lollipop. When I told you that only kids like you get lollipops from doctors, you asked if Pappie will get you a lollipop from the doctor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes... you are a fan of lollies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you overheard Mommy saying to Pappie that she bought a storybook on child abuse, you said, "Wow, child abuse!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were dynamic and hyper and all kinds of handful and lovely in Marinduque. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You slept at a weird position in the car yesterday and didn't wake after Mommy got off. An MMDA tried apprehending your Pappie for 'swerving' but saw you sprawled on the seat and took pity on you, and let Pappie go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, Pappie found a backhoe that's broken near his office. He let you sit in it and play with the levers. You were so happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-8424818079062316885?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/8424818079062316885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/05/shiny-happy-people.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/8424818079062316885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/8424818079062316885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/05/shiny-happy-people.html' title='Shiny, Happy People'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-3937179258616459740</id><published>2010-05-03T23:37:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T23:59:49.330+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>Miscellaneous Updates</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, you showed a concept of money by asking Pappie for coins and attempting to hand it over as payment for your popcorn. Unfortunately, Mommy wasn't there to witness the moment because Mommy was sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THAT IS SO SAD MOMENTS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) When I was telling you the story of how Matsing wouldn't share any bananas to pagong, you blurted that out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) While I was taking a bath to prepare for my hospital confinement and telling you that Mommy and Pappie have to go to the doctor because Mommy is sick... and we have to leave you behind, you blurted that out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't your first popsicle but when Pappie bought and gave you one last Saturday, you were pleading for another one. You were so cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You caught and officially killed a cockroach on your own last week. It was actually dying already and you were gleeful trying to catch it with your slipper. Ninang had to save it from being smashed by you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Attracted by my boobs, you specifically asked to nurse last Friday, i think. I couldn't turn you away so I let you latch. You still know how to suckle but really don't want to anymore, you found it funny. I am very sore so I told you we had to stop. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have been sleeping on your own all the time now. I still have to sometimes threaten you to settle don but it's really a lot easier for you to fall asleep now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of the story "Ang Barumbadong Bus", when you feel you're having too much to drink, you say, "Mommy, I am drunk."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night was the first time you pooped and told me immediately after that you did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You still love Eency Weency Spider and me tickling you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conversation last April 27:&lt;br /&gt;Me: You ready to get up? &lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Not yet. &lt;br /&gt;Me: You want milk? &lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Not yet. &lt;br /&gt;Me: You want kisses? &lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Yes, yes!!! (after the kiss)&lt;br /&gt; Me: Will you behave all day and listen? &lt;br /&gt;Yakee: Not yet also. (we spent the better part of an hour just cuddling and trying to wake up, love it)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-3937179258616459740?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/3937179258616459740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/05/miscellaneous-updates.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3937179258616459740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3937179258616459740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/05/miscellaneous-updates.html' title='Miscellaneous Updates'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-777137016820867559</id><published>2010-04-26T11:45:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T12:37:13.570+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ouch'/><title type='text'>Weekend Wonder and Tears</title><content type='html'>Saturday, Mommy was gone the whole day. Pappie said you were behaved most of the time. I won a small prize with bubbles and gave it to you immediately after coming home. Of course, you loved the bubbles and proceeded to empty the small container. After it's all used up, you said..."Aha! Idea... water!" :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pappie was so happy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read to you the book, "Naku, Naku, Naku" which is about an older brother worried about what to expect with a new baby. You loved it. And you somehow know that Mommy has a baby inside her tummy as well. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also read to you "Luis and the Enchanted Creatures" and you also loved it. Unfortunately, you kept on insisting that the kapre is Pappie. Hehe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday we attended Maico's baptism. You cried at least four times during the afternoon. First, we suspect Zach might have made gigil. Second, you thought Nicole didn't want you to play with them when she was telling you not to go into the playhouse yet (she was clearing the balls). The third was when Elissa closed the door and Mommy and Pappie weren't in the playroom with you. The fourth was when somebody closed the door again. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At Paco Park, you cried when you went ahead and Mommy and Pappie were lost in conversation and turned towards the Chapel and you went straight ahead. I guess you were scared when you looked back and didn't find us there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You also cried when you stepped forcefully on a kneeler which toppled a pew chair over. It landed on your shoulder. At first, I thought it was Pappie who made the pew topple and I couldn't get to you fast enough. Good thing you didn't fall badly to hit your head on the next pew. There is a mark on your left shoulder now though but you can paddle and splash and clap normally enough. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then last night, because you weren't cooperating and we were enforcing the rule that such kids aren't welcome in bed, you also cried of course. But you did sleep readily after being disciplined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess you could say, it wasn't the best of days for you. But you were laughing a lot during the day still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't wake you up this morning for your swimming lessons and it resulted in tears because you refused to get moving. You were wonderful in the water but threw a tantrum when you didn't get to walk and kick roots at Plaza Dilao. You refused to walk, budge, stand or be carried at the edge of the road. I was torn between being super hungry and leaving you there, and being worried that we might have an accident involving a car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then you refused to have Mommy give you a bath soon after getting home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then you started crying because Tito Jun closed the door at the other house, thinking you won't be able to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah darling, not a good start to the week either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were very resourceful yesterday though. You didn't wait to be given fish food for the koi at Congo Grille. You fed them with rice off your pants instead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-777137016820867559?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/777137016820867559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/04/weekend-wonder-and-tears.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/777137016820867559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/777137016820867559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/04/weekend-wonder-and-tears.html' title='Weekend Wonder and Tears'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-1609987382587353464</id><published>2010-04-23T03:16:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-23T03:29:55.740+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>No Updates Doesn't Mean No Milestones</title><content type='html'>Mommy has just really been busy about being pregnant, Baby. Mommy is often sick and dizzy and weak and restless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sad to say, it has affected our relationship, causing a strain to it as you grow more energetic and engaging and demanding. I do feel bad about our time being compromised but I guess this is your first lesson on the other side of what makes a family a family: the sacrifices. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the earlier days of this month, I would often have no energy to read to you at night, so I'd just read one book and call it a night. But I started feeling better as we both got better and finished our medicines. We have even established a new morning routine: I will take off your socks and you will take off mine. That's on top of the kisses and sometimes morning reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're on vitamins everyday now, per your latest pedia's advice. she also kept giving you lollipops when we visit so now you're actually always excited at the prospect of going to the doctor's. The last time we were there, while Mommy was also consulting with her OB, you told Ninang about how delicious and tasty the lollipop is, and refused to give Ninang a taste. You told her to go to the doctor instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You still love your candy medicine, the Montemax chewable one, and we're down to our last four. I guess you just really love the thought of having candy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just last night, because Mommy was really not in the mood and you were making it hard for Mommy to dress you up again, Mommy turned out the lights on us without reading to you and putting socks on you. Poor you, you slept holding your socks. I did put them on you when I woke up just now. And I vow to be more consistent in my discipline of you now so that you'd cooperate better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You still navigate the entire bed when you sleep, causing Pappie and me our sleep sometimes because you like curling up in the most inappropriate of places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You started swimming lessons again last Wednesday. I think the long wait and anticipation got you super excited, you refused to listen to the instructors. You kept kicking in the water and giggling. Mommy really hopes to survive this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But darling, do know that I love you. More than life itself. And I am proud that you're getting used to wearing briefs now. I just have to remember to make you pee in the potty every hour because you still don't tell me in advance that you're going to pee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also happy that you somehow seem to have an idea that Yamee is a baby inside Mommy's tummy. And do know it breaks my heart when I have to turn you away or Pappie has to scold you to stay away from Mommy because you're being overly rough on Mommy (all your dancing makes Mommy nauseated aside from you always ending up hurting Mommy). I hope you will master your own strength someday because you really are a strong boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 feet, 10 inches tall and 12.2 kgs. You wear a size 24 shoe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-1609987382587353464?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/1609987382587353464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/04/no-updates-doesnt-mean-no-milestones.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1609987382587353464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1609987382587353464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/04/no-updates-doesnt-mean-no-milestones.html' title='No Updates Doesn&apos;t Mean No Milestones'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-6824066298615124982</id><published>2010-04-05T23:53:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T00:02:30.253+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>The Sorry Look and PJ Milestone</title><content type='html'>Tuesday or Wednesday night, I think, you asked for hot milk. But you were watching the TV and not minding your cup and managed to spill all the milk. You said sorry in the saddest voice, while signing as well. I couldn't scold about you not minding your cup because I was nauseous. And Pappie didn't scold you either and just cleaned up the mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On our way to Laiya last Friday, you probably started feeling woozy and couldn't quite tell me. You grew quiet though. Then you hugged Mommy and barfed. I started barfing as well, of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you started saying sorry with the sorriest of faces. Pappie and I didn't scold you and reassured you many times that it's ok. I mean, we couldn't really scold you anyway for feeling sick. And mommy kept hugging you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, when you're misbehaving, miscalculating or there was truly an accident, you give us that sorry routine: repeatedly saying sorry with the saddest of faces, the sorriest of voices and signing. So even when you actually deserve a scolding, I couldn't have a go at it anymore and just end up telling you "I Love You" but you have to be more careful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went up for a while tonight and when I got back down, I saw you with one leg already in one pyjama pant leg. You have somehow figured out that you could do this all by yourself so I allowed you to finish the job. I did show you the pant opening so you could get your other leg in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I gave you the shirt and you put it on all by yourself. I had to help you when you mistakenly put your arm through the neckhole but you really managed to dress yourself tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so proud I teared up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing boy, that's what you are!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-6824066298615124982?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/6824066298615124982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/04/sorry-look-and-pj-milestone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/6824066298615124982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/6824066298615124982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/04/sorry-look-and-pj-milestone.html' title='The Sorry Look and PJ Milestone'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-6725688822963364034</id><published>2010-03-30T00:16:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T00:24:33.371+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Hey You</title><content type='html'>Mommy made you get a haircut. You look cute in it but the gay guy shaving your hair away kept complaining because you'd twitch when you hear the razor being turned on. But basically, you did just sit still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You usually shout, "Aha!" then make the patience sign when Ice is crying, or when you know we're about to remind you of that. And when you are raring to fight, the sign often makes you smile. Again, it makes you a hundred times cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are often arguing about Dilophosaurus and Oviraptor because you confuse the two and generally assume that all dinos with ridges on their heads are oviraptors. Hehe. But now you've progressed to also telling me that certain dinosaurs eat meat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After clipping your nails several nights ago, you told Mommy, "Thank you so much." :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you love watching your old videos, footages taken when you were still an infant, but would walys say, "Not that" when it's our wedding video being shown you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You love Elmo's Potty Time and have actually shown progress in peeing in the CR or your potty. You're still not diaper-free though and you still really can't tell us beforehand when you absolutely have to pee, but at least you have control of your muscles to go when we ask you to go pee. Pappie has also been showing you how to properly do it... and the first time he did, you said, "Wow!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I was so happy seeing you enjoy yourself at the zoo in Tagaytay, or ride that horse with that stranger. Soon, you will really have more adventures to enjoy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-6725688822963364034?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/6725688822963364034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/03/hey-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/6725688822963364034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/6725688822963364034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/03/hey-you.html' title='Hey You'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-937348130144334943</id><published>2010-03-19T01:00:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T01:04:37.866+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Too Cute Updates</title><content type='html'>Almost two weeks ago, I was asking you to say bye, bye to the toys you were playing with in Lipa. You said, "Bye bye pig, bye bye cow, bye bye elephant..." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then you added, "See you again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought books for you today and after all the excited gushing over them, you asked for Pappie and said something about Pappie reading them while signing WAIT. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you didn't let Mommy read the new books to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lolo's parting reminder to you and Ice was "no fighting." Now, everytime we're about to go to the otehr house, you tell us that while wagging your finger too. You also keep telling Ice that, which annoys him heavily.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-937348130144334943?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/937348130144334943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/03/too-cute-updates.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/937348130144334943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/937348130144334943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/03/too-cute-updates.html' title='Too Cute Updates'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-2116322610646002895</id><published>2010-03-12T02:27:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T02:32:49.062+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>Putting Your Own Socks</title><content type='html'>It was Wednesday night when you put your own socks on without any help at all. Mommy wished she could share it with Pappie since he was worried about how Ice could take his off on his own while you never have, and you're older.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told your Pappie that it's probably because we have always been there to do it for you. We really should hover less, I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you did, and I was proud just the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much as I love you playing with clay, there are now on an indefinite timeout. Granted, I get annoyed when you 'shred' them in small pieces and scatter them about. I made peace with that earlier, telling myself that it's the price for your hand dexterity. Unfortunately, you decided they're fun to scattter on food. Food is scared. So maybe around two weeks or so without play dough will make you play with it better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And am happy twas Pappie who read to you tonight, and tucked you to bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-2116322610646002895?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/2116322610646002895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/03/putting-your-own-socks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2116322610646002895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2116322610646002895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/03/putting-your-own-socks.html' title='Putting Your Own Socks'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-1992102465742831103</id><published>2010-03-08T11:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T11:55:39.829+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>The Weekend Wonder</title><content type='html'>Mommy still has to do some minor editing on your video, but you were outstandingly hyper last Saturday night/early morning (from all the ice cream) as you danced for Ninang Sancha. Actually, I feel you were more into seeing yourself on cam than actually performing for her. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, Pappie did say that you were generally well-behaved last Saturday while with him. You even allowed us to watch our shows and we spent bonding time just sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday marked another milestone for you. You sat at the back of Maxime without Mommy and didn't sleep at all in the car. Looked to Mommy like you were playing pretend already, based on the expression in your eyes, your quiet smiles, and the way you'd sometimes just say "Weeeh" when we're going fast on the highway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You also loved seeing Lolo and playing ball with your cousins in Lipa. *mwah*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the more perfect moments from the weekend was waking up to your kisses and then seeing you lying on the floor, on your front, and reading your dinosaur book just after waking up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-1992102465742831103?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/1992102465742831103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/03/weekend-wonder.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1992102465742831103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1992102465742831103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/03/weekend-wonder.html' title='The Weekend Wonder'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-3128276497093772275</id><published>2010-03-03T23:30:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T23:37:34.603+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Playing Make Believe</title><content type='html'>Posted this on FB:&lt;br /&gt;Yakee was playing with the bottles of vanilla and banana extract. Suddenly we heard him saying, "Wake up now, wake up." He's laid the bottles on the table. We asked him to kiss the bottles so they'd wake, he did and stood them up again. Then he said Mommy is the vanilla... and Pappie is the banana. Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You like walking around as if you're a dinosaur, growling and roaring as you do. You also like it very much if Pappie pretends to be a dinosaur and goes after you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-3128276497093772275?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/3128276497093772275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/03/playing-make-believe.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3128276497093772275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3128276497093772275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/03/playing-make-believe.html' title='Playing Make Believe'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-3482417584581945721</id><published>2010-03-01T00:04:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T00:11:09.528+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Updates On Your Cuteness</title><content type='html'>The other night, you initiated our bedtime goodnights with a "Goodnight, pillow." and then you prodded me by saying, "Moomy, say sweet dreams." :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your resistance has been made stronger by learning to use the word AYAW. But you still like saying NOT YET more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You wanted to ride the air balloons last night so you can walk on water. I promised you I will let you do so when you're a little older. I don't think they accept kids as young as you. But don't worry baby, you WILL try a lot of things, even if Mommy's heart will be skipping so many beats while you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can better identify letters when Mommy fingerspells them. You're weird and cute that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy bought you your first Potty book... hoping that it will entice you to use yours. You at least love reading the book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You still favor your orange crocs the most... and Mommy always has to make you choose what to wear so you'd wear it. ou even picked out the grapes you liked at the grocery. And you can use the detachable shower head on yourself already. You're really growing up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You refuse to let Mommy go up if you don't see her and Pappie kiss. You're our marriage keeper indeed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-3482417584581945721?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/3482417584581945721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/03/updates-on-your-cuteness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3482417584581945721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3482417584581945721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/03/updates-on-your-cuteness.html' title='Updates On Your Cuteness'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-3596991326614951053</id><published>2010-02-15T01:51:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T02:02:44.651+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ouch'/><title type='text'>Valentine Weaning</title><content type='html'>Generally, Mommy still feels the numbers and pictures and references to you being a dinosaur now helped in the official weaning. But you are only a baby after all, so there were several times during the day when you did rage when Mommy reminded you that Mommy has no milk anymore for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes, there were tantrums. And one or two times when Mommy had to ask if you wanted a spanking because you refused to listen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, Mommy has been going out a lot and Pappie and Mommy were out last night. I guess you were bound to feel neglected somehow even if you're not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But anyway, you celebrated with cake and ice cream today. I am so proud!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Pics-for-Blog-Posts/yakeesteps2/788127260_Cw26h-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Pics-for-Blog-Posts/yakeesteps/788127249_4FzF6-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;here are your pics from that time a grandma found you cute,&lt;br /&gt;asked you to 'bless' and then gave you P3 after&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-3596991326614951053?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/3596991326614951053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/02/valentine-weaning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3596991326614951053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3596991326614951053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/02/valentine-weaning.html' title='Valentine Weaning'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-8789771031584643914</id><published>2010-02-12T01:47:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T02:07:04.459+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>Potty Training Hope</title><content type='html'>As much as I wish that I can already potty train you, you still really have to show any signs of being ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT we do let your tutuy breathe in the evening. Usually, you'd just be saying THERE while already peeing. But this afternoon, we sort of made an accidental breakthrough. You were kneeling on the divider between our kitchen and bathroom when you felt like pissing and let go, thereby peeing on the floor of the CR. I decided to just commend you for doing that, showering you with praises and kisses and then showing you how to pour water over the area you pissed on. Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, I was texting and sitting by the stairs when you approached me to sit beside me and asked, "Mommy, are you okay?" :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-8789771031584643914?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/8789771031584643914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/02/potty-training-hope.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/8789771031584643914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/8789771031584643914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/02/potty-training-hope.html' title='Potty Training Hope'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-2457526328883119095</id><published>2010-02-05T21:37:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T21:44:37.476+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yikes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Sigh</title><content type='html'>You missed me sooo much yesterday that you were all over me last night. And you tried impressing Mommy by eating more even if you've already had a hearty dinner. And you kept jumping and climbing all over Mommy. When Mommy coughed, you thought to cough along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you barfed. All over Mommy's head, left ear and neck. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy had to crawl away, retching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And today.... you threw a major tantrum during naptime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were playing with your play dough, patting textures on it using your other toys. Then suddenly you put it on top of your plastic chest and started trying to imprint your peen on it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-2457526328883119095?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/2457526328883119095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/02/sigh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2457526328883119095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2457526328883119095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/02/sigh.html' title='Sigh'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-3883702391652824683</id><published>2010-02-03T18:07:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T18:13:01.568+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>Siomai Baby</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, while walking to SM Manila, I asked you if you wanted waffles and you said YES. I reminded you that you should say PLEASE also and you said, YES PLEASE. And then after some pause, you said, WAFFLE AND SIOMAI PLEASE. Haha. So Mommy had no choice but let you snack on both. When told about it, Pappie was super happy and proud. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we have siomai at least twice a week now ever since you fell in love with it and started asking for it. It's not that you eat much of it, but it's really the only form meat comes in that you like all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First visit to the dentist today too. You were excited and though a little apprehensive when made to sit on the dentist chair, you were behaved. You also opened your mouth accordingly. Mommy is happy that you don't have dental carries and that you have a nice set of teeth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You always refer to eating at  Jollibee too eventhough there's really nothing there that you LOVE eating. You call KFC "chicken" and we eat there more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You still love wearing shades. And Mommy has bought you a paint set because you liked painting last weekend with your cousins. Yes, Mommy is facing the mess!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-3883702391652824683?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/3883702391652824683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/02/siomai-baby.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3883702391652824683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3883702391652824683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/02/siomai-baby.html' title='Siomai Baby'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-3052766376288032952</id><published>2010-01-23T17:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T18:05:41.109+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><title type='text'>Cool, Crazy Boy</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Pics-for-Blog-Posts/yakeeshades/771212138_Dn4Bb-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since I let you borrow these pair of shades, you insist on watching TV wearing it. Oh, and yesterday, when I was bringing you to the doctor for your low-gradefever, you insisted on wearing this same romper (you wore it just last week, when this picture was taken). You insisted on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. Start again of something new for us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I know Mommy has been threatening you with spanking using your table's legs, but it's only because you refuse to stop brandishing them around and either keep hitting Mommy with it, or insist on climbing up the stairs carrying them. Both not really great ideas, my son. But I still love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-3052766376288032952?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/3052766376288032952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/01/cool-crazy-boy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3052766376288032952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3052766376288032952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/01/cool-crazy-boy.html' title='Cool, Crazy Boy'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-3863078931908869268</id><published>2010-01-13T18:57:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T19:02:31.549+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>Start of What's That?</title><content type='html'>Last night was the official start of your "What's that" phase when you kept asking the question from Pappie, who was nebulizing himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was also funny when, after peppering my face with Spiderman stickers, you asked me after awhile the same question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and yeah... you sometimes talk in paragraphs now. "Mommy, where are you? What are you doing? There, I found you! Hi, Mommy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you initiate "I love you" now. It still sounds "Awahu" but now I get that it's what you're saying... most of the time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-3863078931908869268?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/3863078931908869268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/01/start-of-whats-that.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3863078931908869268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3863078931908869268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/01/start-of-whats-that.html' title='Start of What&apos;s That?'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-1791433664616620814</id><published>2010-01-03T00:51:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T01:14:13.345+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>Funny, Crazy Boy</title><content type='html'>We're back home darling son. All in all, you were pretty behaved the entire Holidays. There were moments when we struggled but all in all, we both had fun. And everybody just loved how you'd always look for me... in complete sentences even. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we were at Lipa earlier for the barrio fiesta. You loved goto and ran after dogs and your older cousins. You also binged on enough candy to last you a year. You also squashed chicks and ducklings because you were so happy with them. And you say HI to everyone, even to me after waking up, even to Pappie when you're crying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During dinner, you cried happily, "Jollibee!" but it was really KFC that we were eating. Haha. And when Mommy asked you not to watch TV so near, you took out your binoculars and tried watching the TV that way (with the lens making the TV farther away from you). And taking your cue from Pluto, you licked Mommy's face and I feel you'd be doing a lot of that in the coming days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, you loved playing with clay so am going to buy you some. At least now I know you won't eat it. You still love books, you still love coloring, you still love playing instruments. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Pics-for-Blog-Posts/clay/755430442_22CV7-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another really adorable thing you do now is reading letters aloud. Of course, it's still a hit and miss thing but while on the road, you'd pretend to be reading aloud the letters in billboards and signs. That's a great sign because it suggests interest in letters. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and it was always heartbreaking for you when Ate Lianne and Iya try banning you from their play or refuse to share toys. But you, you've always been pretty generous with your toys, like your bubble gun and remote control car. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One last story... peddlers were trying to capitalize as usual on kids and their parents' inability to really refuse them so one was tempting you with his goods and Pappie wanted to buy you something. He said, though, that you should ask Mommy first if you can buy. You said, "Mommy, awahu" (i love you)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-1791433664616620814?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/1791433664616620814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/01/funny-crazy-boy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1791433664616620814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1791433664616620814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2010/01/funny-crazy-boy.html' title='Funny, Crazy Boy'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-2946312037961826289</id><published>2009-12-30T03:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T03:25:29.543+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yey'/><title type='text'>What Are You Doing?</title><content type='html'>You're literally saying that now. Last week, it was just, "Mommy, where are you?" but now you're stringing along phrases and sentences. And you were just a doll the whole day, you made your girl cousins look like brats. Hehe. Even Yaya cannot deny you anything because you're always so cute, always dancing, always misplacing Mommy, always telling them to "Come here, sit, walk, etc"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-2946312037961826289?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/2946312037961826289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/12/what-are-you-doing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2946312037961826289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2946312037961826289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/12/what-are-you-doing.html' title='What Are You Doing?'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-5009720709123830012</id><published>2009-12-25T15:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T03:44:02.096+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hard Hit</title><content type='html'>You took a hard hit yesterday, darling. You can't imagine the fear Pappie and I had when you were oh so quiet and sad and  and lethargic and sleepy after. When you were woozy enough to fall from the weighing scale, that broke my heart. Maybe you will know the same fear when you have children of your own... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I want you to know, God willing that we could joke about what happened someday because you'd just really be alright, that Pappie would die a thousand deaths before he'd do anything to hurt you. I'm the meaner parent after all, the one inclined to spank. And he was oh so sorry and worried. Heaven knows how hard he'd be beating himself up over this. Like what he says, he will never forgive himself if the fall affects your development.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you know what, Mommy will... because I know seeing you hurt is the last thing he'd ever want. And it could have as easily been Mommy accidentally hurting you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And am writing this now because I want you to know we appreciate how much a trooper you are. You're playing as usual now. You even pooped, which suggests that you did manage to digest something despite barfing three times last night. Now, Mommy just really has to be strict with the small, frequent feedings so you won't barf anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and you got such lovely gifts for Christmas. Ninang Gang gave you a black and whiteboard with magnetic alphabet and numbers, Andie gave you a color palette set to learn your colors,you've gotten yoyos and a shirt, Momsy gave you a PJ set, Lolo gave cereals, and you got a dog each from Momsy and Ninang Ira. You're scared of Ninang Ira's gift though and doesn't appreciate it singing "What a Wonderful World"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're now wearing the gingham romper that Ninang Ira gave you. You look so cute and innocent in it. So yeah, Merry Christmas little boy. We love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-5009720709123830012?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/5009720709123830012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/12/hard-hit.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/5009720709123830012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/5009720709123830012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/12/hard-hit.html' title='Hard Hit'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-1920697682676711946</id><published>2009-12-23T02:31:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T02:38:38.301+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Sigh, Son</title><content type='html'>One thing am really happy about is the fact that you can also stomach ginger tea, which I believe helps us more than Ascof Lagundi does. I am hoping you won't progress to pneumonia, that this isn't a primary complex sign and that you won't be sick during the Holidays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and you also like uncooked chopped chinese cabbage. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also told your Pappie that am sure you're going to fall off the stairs anytime soon because you've been trying to balance on that side ledge and you keep running and turning while on the stairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know not everything is about me but I can't help but wonder if our daily struggles recently is also the reason why you're being extra violent and jealous of Ice. Poor ice is getting real abused by you. We've made an agreement with Tito Jun though that when you guys are about 5 or 6, we'd just really let you rough each other up. By then, your advantage over him wouldn't be that big anymore. Right now though, you can still literally push him around eventhough he can scratch, claw and hit right back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You slept and woke up asking me for apples yesterday. I love that you love fruits!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You also exclaim, "Wow, delicious! Yummy" all the time now when you're eating. And I believe you said "hawaking" the other day. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you ask me to sing in bed or when am putting you down for a nap, you're basically asking me to hum TUHOG NA BULAKLAK. You'd usually hum along at first then drift off to sleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really love you, Baby. I really, really do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-1920697682676711946?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/1920697682676711946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/12/sigh-son.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1920697682676711946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1920697682676711946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/12/sigh-son.html' title='Sigh, Son'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-7512200006960443929</id><published>2009-12-20T18:55:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T02:33:44.714+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><title type='text'>Updates and Updates</title><content type='html'>I can't believe I haven't updated this for almost a month!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, darling son, you have been your usual handful self but you're really more verbal now. Last Friday, you even gushed over one of the gifts you got at PPA and said, "Beautiful!" :) Now, you say that all the time after saying "Wow!" :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and everybody adored you at PPA because you were happy as a lark, kept dancing and running and shrieking, kept posing for pictures... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You spent the whole day with pappie yesterday but danced with Mommy a lot last night. And now, you're sleeptalking a lot more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This afternoon, you started poking Nemo and getting his stuffing out. So yeah, you may never hug him for a long time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, i'd have very difficult days. I think it's because we've both been busy, Pappie and I, so you feel your days are disrupted and cannot trust a routine. Plus, since Mommy has started working, she's either busier during the day or lacking sleep from working all night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Christmas tree looks like a tornado went through it. I don't know where half of the trimmings are. Your constant plucking from it also convinced Mommy not to put it the Christmas lights. And after discovering that the Christmas boxes hanging from the tree were made from styropore, you starting making a mess of them at will. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, you're flinging popsicle sticks at Mommy as I type.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier, we tried playing store. I gave you pretend money and asked for the peanut butter and you got the peanut butter back and asked for coins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and the carollers love you. Not only do you dance while they sing, you also can't wait to give them their coins. Of course, you hit some as you push the door open. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yeah, recently, you haven't had a serious fall or bump. But there are days when I spank a lot. Well, the most is 3 times, because you were so contrary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, you've been attending lots of reunions with Mommy and Pappie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, you in pictures:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Family/Dates-Family-Days-and/Aerospace-and-MOA/IMG7815/736139879_K24kT-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Family/Dates-Family-Days-and/Aerospace-and-MOA/IMG7836/736147244_VcWUf-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Family/Dates-Family-Days-and/Aerospace-and-MOA/IMG7846/736150356_62LKJ-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Family/Dates-Family-Days-and/Aerospace-and-MOA/IMG7869/736157921_TQmVA-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-7512200006960443929?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/7512200006960443929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/12/updates-and-updates.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/7512200006960443929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/7512200006960443929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/12/updates-and-updates.html' title='Updates and Updates'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-8933985018143738074</id><published>2009-11-29T11:36:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-29T11:49:23.105+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>Weekend Stories</title><content type='html'>Our weekend started with Mommy bringing you to the Anvil Booksale where you had so much fun disturbing the books, going through them, running about and shrieking. You also kept slipping from the chair and one time, you also had Mommy read you The Magical Violin book there and then. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your eyes puffed a little from all the dust, and even the next day, your eyes still showed some puffiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While going through your new Barney book, Mommy was asking you to tell her where the cat is and told you that it's near the guitar. You said, "No guitar, mandolin!" :D Mommy couldn't be happier being corrected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, Mommy gave you the key from her Readers Digest subscription. Pappie heard you say something like, "I have a key, it will open a car." :) Pappie was amazed and Mommy asked you, "Yakee, what is the key for?" and you responded, "open a car!" :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-8933985018143738074?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/8933985018143738074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/11/weekend-stories.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/8933985018143738074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/8933985018143738074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/11/weekend-stories.html' title='Weekend Stories'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-1030181440491789328</id><published>2009-11-26T15:22:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T15:23:27.346+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Yikes</title><content type='html'>You've already had 5 bowls of cereal (not so much per bowl but still) while watching videos... you're turning into Mommy, snacking while watching!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-1030181440491789328?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/1030181440491789328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/11/yikes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1030181440491789328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1030181440491789328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/11/yikes.html' title='Yikes'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-7551888371365334125</id><published>2009-11-24T00:28:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T00:38:00.080+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>Dinosaurs, Numbers and Alphabet</title><content type='html'>Mommy was amazed when you proved that you could identify the dinosaurs in your book. You at least can differentiate the coelophysis, maisaura, T-Rex, triceratops, gigantosaurus, brachiasaurus, prenocephale and velociraptor. At first I thought you just memorized their position in the pages but you could still point out the right one when we look at the back page, proving that just like with the instruments, you can spot the distinctions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You could sing the alphabet song but can't really identify letters yet. But you're always trying to imitate the fingerspelling diagram that Mommy posted beside your changing table. So now, you can do A, B, C, F, L and O. For some reason, you really still can't do the V sign. But no matter... your hand dexterity is still developing anyway and it's enough that you're learning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy and Pappie were surprised that you actually can chant from 1-10. We found this out when you recited it while we were going down the stairs last night. You also sometimes pretend you're counting and can get to 5 so it's also just really a matter of time before you can actually count.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We understand your verbalization half the time. I am excited with the WHy phase coming up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You weirdly ate two cupcakes at the wake last night, even after having supper. And you ate rice and chicken after we got home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You also tried climbing up the coffin and tried supporting yourself with one of the coffin handles. Disaster. We went home immediately after that lest the coffin falls on you, and Lolo Rudy's corpse comes out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-7551888371365334125?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/7551888371365334125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/11/dinosaurs-numbers-and-alphabet.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/7551888371365334125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/7551888371365334125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/11/dinosaurs-numbers-and-alphabet.html' title='Dinosaurs, Numbers and Alphabet'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-2097347416026825218</id><published>2009-11-16T01:51:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T01:57:04.580+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><title type='text'>Smart Baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Journalism/Pics-for-Blog-Posts/IMGP2546/713829481_QMj4C-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not immediately apparent what the milestone is in this picture. But look closely and you'll see that my darling son put most of the trumpet-looking things together... and the flute-looking things together. He also put the accordion, glockenspiel and xylophone together while at the other end, he put the organ and reed organ near each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not perfect but it shows that he's establishing order and able to make associations already. Not to mention that he knows most of the names of these instruments (whether you ask him where something is, or ask him what picture you're holding). The things that confuse him and still won't register are glockenspiel, violoncello, cornet a piston, etc and that's okay, we're not hard to please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I can't help but worry that my son still cannot identify letters, for example, like other 2 year olds. But times like this remind me that he knows other things and is not necessarily behind. I am so proud!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have acute otitis media now my darling... Mommy is sorry if she failed in some way somehow. But Mommy is also blessed that you're generally cooperative when it comes to taking meds. I love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-2097347416026825218?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/2097347416026825218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/11/smart-baby.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2097347416026825218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2097347416026825218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/11/smart-baby.html' title='Smart Baby'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-8679458478154554520</id><published>2009-11-10T00:14:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T00:23:40.059+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ouch'/><title type='text'>Note for Mom</title><content type='html'>You slipped twice and bumped your head twice on the floor during the weekend. Saturday and Sunday. I'm making note of this in case you get particularly wonky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And poor baby still had colds so you really couldn't do your underwater antics because you couldn't breathe right. But you still had so much fun, it was sinful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Family/Happy-Celebrations/Swimming-Party-Ira-Cam/IMG2875/707575968_4QQGR-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Family/Happy-Celebrations/Swimming-Party-Ira-Cam/IMG2842/707568050_CM99B-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Family/Happy-Celebrations/Swimming-Party-Ira-Cam/IMG2994/707592018_MhSMi-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Family/Happy-Celebrations/Swimming-Party-Ira-Cam/IMG3028/707598203_fDsjN-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/Family/Happy-Celebrations/Swimming-Party-Ira-Cam/IMG3016/707596440_7pdXs-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And tonight, because Mommy isn't feeling well, you did not insist on your stories and meme and slept on your own. Mommy loves you for it. Mommy is very thankful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-8679458478154554520?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/8679458478154554520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/11/note-for-mom.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/8679458478154554520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/8679458478154554520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/11/note-for-mom.html' title='Note for Mom'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-545257973947309329</id><published>2009-11-04T15:23:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T15:31:01.636+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ouch'/><title type='text'>Awawa Boy</title><content type='html'>Sunday, three of your fingers got caught in one of Maxime's doors when Momsy shut it and I let go of your hands to turn off the light inside the car. Took you about 10-20 seconds before you started crying. And you hated dipping your fingers in cold water... or holding ice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But at the Church, you feasted on quail eggs, using your injured hand. Later on, you were supporting your body using both hands to swing yourself. I knew then that you'd just be fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday night, Pappie hit you with one of the car doors... on the face/forehead. But you didn't cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also saw you balancing yourself on the edge of the sofa while watching Momsy sweeping. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, my son, I am sure other parents will consider you a nightmare of a son because of your exuberance, curiosity and spirit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lolo says that you're that way because you're making up for all the activities your father didn't do when he was young. After all, he stayed put for hours wherever you put him. he was that behaved. And that your kind is better compared to quiet, shy, sensitive and sickly babies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, you're sick with coughs and colds. And for some 20 minutes, we were holding a control contest in the CR where Mommy was trying to wash you, and you insisted on throwing tantrums. Nobody won and we both felt ugly and exhausted after. But at least you ate your lunch and I got you to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy is sorry if she doesn't always have a long fuse. If she doesn't always understand. But Mommy loves you so much. Always. In all ways.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-545257973947309329?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/545257973947309329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/11/awawa-boy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/545257973947309329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/545257973947309329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/11/awawa-boy.html' title='Awawa Boy'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-6946542902504486887</id><published>2009-10-26T20:10:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T20:16:45.563+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ouch'/><title type='text'>Hurt</title><content type='html'>Slipping twice on the ground in Lipa did not hurt you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falling in a hole then down, did not hurt you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tripping several times did not hurt you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slipping on the floor, and falling down to bump the back of your head did not hurt you either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But without us knowing, you really hurt yourself. Enough to keep crying everytime you'd remember it. Enough to cry and cry again everytime you attempt to pick something up. Enough to really not leave Mommy's arms again the rest of the night. Enough to sleep fitfully in the car and sleep again immediately once Mommy put you to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pappie and Mommy don't know what really happened. But I guess this is the first of many times when you'd really hurt yourself without us looking. Because you're growing up and not a baby anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-6946542902504486887?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/6946542902504486887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/10/hurt.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/6946542902504486887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/6946542902504486887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/10/hurt.html' title='Hurt'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-2868240434378294738</id><published>2009-10-15T07:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T07:34:00.472+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><title type='text'>Birthday Boy in Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/674939474_zND4x-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/674945362_FnZcH-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/674950000_DiDvM-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/674951264_EW4ht-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/674951770_Xnx8u-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/674956700_gs2iZ-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/674960599_M9HrG-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/674964598_muGhv-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/674977476_fcgDa-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/674970230_vRFFX-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-2868240434378294738?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/2868240434378294738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/10/birthday-boy-in-pictures.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2868240434378294738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2868240434378294738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/10/birthday-boy-in-pictures.html' title='Birthday Boy in Pictures'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-1622816341878938</id><published>2009-10-14T07:27:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T07:34:05.045+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>Shots Time</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, Mommy finally brought you to your pedia again for your Hepa A shots. The doctor found you behaved since you'd put back the dusty teddy bears Mommy would ask you to put back. And you sat on Mommy's lap willingly, allowed the doctor to use his stethoscope on you and looked him straight in the eye while he was injecting the shot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, you did not even cry and insisted only in being allowed to wash your hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked Mommy if you can do these things and I said YES to all of them:&lt;br /&gt;1) go up and down the stairs unaided&lt;br /&gt;2) pull down your own pants&lt;br /&gt;3) remove your shoes&lt;br /&gt;4) know 50 words at least&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the verdict was, you're just growing beautifully. He was a little concerned that you did not gain much weight in six months but seeing you gained enough considering the entire year, all was well. He did advise Mommy to wean and just feed you more. I told him  we don't have problems feeding you right but you're just way too hyperactive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy felt validated :)  And am really happy you're growing so well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tantrums came back again after the weekend but so far, we've been good. I still have to put up with a lot of scratching and crying but you're still pretty manageable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-1622816341878938?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/1622816341878938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/10/shots-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1622816341878938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1622816341878938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/10/shots-time.html' title='Shots Time'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-8251732549507692945</id><published>2009-10-09T20:57:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T21:00:51.094+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yikes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Breath of Fresh Air</title><content type='html'>Weirdly enough, after you turned two, you haven't been as annoying and terribly tantrumy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You did fall out of the bed this morning. And you tried drinking milk through your nose.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-8251732549507692945?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/8251732549507692945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/10/breath-of-fresh-air.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/8251732549507692945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/8251732549507692945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/10/breath-of-fresh-air.html' title='Breath of Fresh Air'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-5303563902427892968</id><published>2009-10-05T07:40:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T07:46:50.229+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Secure, Insecure</title><content type='html'>At the church yesterday, you engaged a boy your age to play. Basically, you guys just kept laughing, running and trying to touch each other. One time, however, you guys bumped each other. You immediately approached me with a sad face, and I could see you fighting back tears. I know you must have felt threatened rather than gotten hurt actually. But you did not really cry and you immediately left my arms to start approaching the boy again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other boy, however, was scared to go anywhere near you anymore. And because he wouldn't come near you anymore, you kept pointing at an area and kept signing "go".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During your sleep, you woke up crying. When you realized that my back was to you, you cried all the more and sat up, and started turning my head back to you. I thought you were going to ask for milk and was ready to remind you that it wasn't morning yet. So I turned towards you. You hugged me and fell back to sleep... with your back turned to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-5303563902427892968?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/5303563902427892968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/10/secure-insecure.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/5303563902427892968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/5303563902427892968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/10/secure-insecure.html' title='Secure, Insecure'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-5083735060744289831</id><published>2009-10-01T13:04:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T13:06:59.855+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Yakee, Yakee, A Lot Contrary</title><content type='html'>You have not woken up in a good mood for days now. And all the time, you're a lot contrary. I can't even begin to meet your needs because you don't even know what you want anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know part of this is because you had some cake and ice cream. I'm blaming sugar rush. But I think it's more because you're officially turning TWO and this is some kind of growth spurt/milestone thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, I love you. Advance happy birthday my darling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-5083735060744289831?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/5083735060744289831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/10/yakee-yakee-lot-contrary.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/5083735060744289831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/5083735060744289831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/10/yakee-yakee-lot-contrary.html' title='Yakee, Yakee, A Lot Contrary'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-667331491400900228</id><published>2009-09-28T02:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T03:03:13.835+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Stressful Weekend</title><content type='html'>Let's start Friday. We brought you to the Intelicare pedia to consult your noisy breathing. Since you're active (hyper even), do not have fever, coughs or colds, and the noisy breathing was not present at the time of consultation, we were advised to just observe you and salinase you at night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because Mommy was happy, we shopped for groceries while you ate a waffle while riding in the cart. Then I gave you some Yakult. Then we went to Mangan and you loved the fried cassava strips and then later, the sago't gulaman. Then you refused to come home with us because you loved dancing with the blinking Christmas lights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*~*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, typhoon Ondoy came upon us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, Pappie was texting me that he was entertaining you by letting you run after cockroaches as they seemed excited by the rains. And then, the other house started getting flooded and you were excited about it. So much so that you slipped twice in the flood. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When flood waters started seeping into our home, you were excited yet again and before I knew it, you had slipped for the 3rd time. What's worse, you fell face down and Mommy's head was pounding from the worry of you getting sick. What if you accidentally drank some of the water? How could we rush you to the ER? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, we refused to let you sand on the floor and it upset you so. The only thing that will stop the crying was walking with you all over the ground floor so you can ejoy the water being sloshed by our feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when we finally allowed you to stand on the floor after the water was gone and we've cleaned it, you were absolutely ecstatic. I'd imagine you thought it felt like being allowed to walk again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*~*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy left you alone for a while to get your dinner last Saturday night. You must have gotten impatient and started playing with the door knob, accidentally locking yourself in. Tita Ninang panicked and started screaming and Pappie also panicked. Mommy wasn't really worried because although she knew you were scared, she also knew you were somewhere safe. Fortunately, because you're a relentless kind of person, you managed to unlock the door on your own. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*~*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You fell down the stairs at past 7 PM Sunday night. Good thing you were able to grab onto the railing and Mommy was able to catch your face as you fell so you really only hit your knees on the steps. You cried, but I feel mostly because Mommy screamed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But all these things were not enough to make you listen to us. I think too much excitement has also made you more hardheaded than usual.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-667331491400900228?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/667331491400900228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/stressful-weekend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/667331491400900228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/667331491400900228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/stressful-weekend.html' title='Stressful Weekend'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-5140945076483050637</id><published>2009-09-25T19:57:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T19:59:40.759+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>3rd Haircut</title><content type='html'>Picture will follow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, you were sooo behaved at the parlor this morning darling. You just sat there, with your face so serious, not daring to move. You never smiled but you did wave goodbye to the one who cut your hair. And this is your cheapest haircut yet!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next cut will be at the local barber's okay? :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-5140945076483050637?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/5140945076483050637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/3rd-haircut.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/5140945076483050637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/5140945076483050637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/3rd-haircut.html' title='3rd Haircut'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-1041100189735958311</id><published>2009-09-24T09:51:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T09:54:40.558+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Little Drummer Boy</title><content type='html'>Mommy found this P35 board book at Booksale. Little Drummer Boy seems to really appeal to you, validating Mommy's intuition. You asked me to read it to you early this morning when you woke up. Then you went back to sleep again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's perfect for the upcoming Holidays as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're loving Pappie's pasalubongs so much that I worry you might be getting spoiled for them. For two nights now, you'd eat your dinner fast because you wanted to get the chocolate and cake :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your grandparents and titos and titas all loved your Rockstar videos :) Lolo Indo is even asking for more and everyone's telling us to cultivate your natural interest in music :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You also love Barney and Kidsongs sooooo much these days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-1041100189735958311?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/1041100189735958311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/little-drummer-boy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1041100189735958311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1041100189735958311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/little-drummer-boy.html' title='Little Drummer Boy'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-1685574813192997047</id><published>2009-09-21T01:44:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T01:49:46.964+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>Weekend Updates</title><content type='html'>Youstartled a crew in MCDo whenyou came rushing out to greet me, without your father noticing that you've gone from the playground. You were even barefooted. And just before going, you bumped your head in the slide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People at the Manila Book Fair thought you were a girl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought you a new pair of shoes yet again. They only cost P200 anyway. And you were happy running after the remote control cars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At Momsy's, you jumped from the bed to the floor without falling down. Several times. Your balance is really, really awesome for a 2-year old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody was amazed at your guitar-playing videos. Mommy should enhance your stimulation, Lola Auring said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ninang Ira did your hair in pigtails and you loooked exactly like Mommy. If ever you have a sister, that's how she'd look like! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pappie couldn't bear NOT buying you that bubble gun. Now, we have to make our own bubbles so you'd have plenty to use.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-1685574813192997047?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/1685574813192997047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/weekend-updates.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1685574813192997047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1685574813192997047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/weekend-updates.html' title='Weekend Updates'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-1023562430338762246</id><published>2009-09-17T11:33:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T11:38:35.636+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>Milestones</title><content type='html'>The happiest something I want to document is the incident last night when I told you to get Pappie to read to you your Charlie Bird book. Not only did you remember that we took it down with you yesterday morning and that you hid it in your table, but you really knew which book I was referencing to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were delighted with your musical instruments chart. And also with your drum this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You managed to get to your changing area by climbing over the chests. Mom was upset while you were doing it but Mommy cannot deny how limber you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a video of you playing with your guitar and improvising by tucking a hanger in your Pappie's luggage to use it as mic. Unfortunately, you were stark naked so we cannot post it on Youtube. Towards the end of the 3-minute video, one can distinctly hear you singing E-I-E-I-O :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your recent fave phrase is, "Mommy, see me" meaning, to look at you. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-1023562430338762246?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/1023562430338762246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/milestones.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1023562430338762246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1023562430338762246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/milestones.html' title='Milestones'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-5992466107891405117</id><published>2009-09-13T19:30:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T19:34:15.847+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Inventive</title><content type='html'>You pulled out the keys from your toy guitar... so you can insert one in the keyhole of our main door. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for accompanying Mommy to the doctor last Friday, baby. Mommy's chagrined by the fact that you licked the rails of my bed and got a nasty bite and ate up all the gravy in your Fun Shots that resulted in tummy troubles the following day... but all in all, and even considering you laughing at Mommy with her brown bag, you were a trooper!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-5992466107891405117?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/5992466107891405117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/inventive.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/5992466107891405117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/5992466107891405117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/inventive.html' title='Inventive'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-1697723454997458397</id><published>2009-09-10T19:21:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T02:11:56.054+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Stress Eating</title><content type='html'>I think God somehow told you that you need to fill up on solids because something's going to happen to Mommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, you woke up before 8 AM. You had porridge. While I was gone, you had two spanish breads, a banana and those Malaysian chips. When I got home, you were eating lunch of a bowlful of rice. And then you started eating the veggies on my plate and even nibbled on my chicken bones. And then you had breastmilk, of course, as you took your afternoon nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After waking up, you had KFC Fun shots (you ate an entire box yourself and even licked the gravy). Then yogurt. Then dinner or rice and veggies. Then a whole sundae. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which was why you slept through the night and didn't require milk from Mommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, you had lunch and Yakult. Then you ate an entire apple. Later, you will have dinner and yogurt again (so you won't get constipated from the apple). Hopefully, you won't rage so much about not getting milk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so proud of you darling. And it hurts Mommy not being able to breastfeed you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You also had milk and a cookie before I brushed your teeth. Yey.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-1697723454997458397?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/1697723454997458397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/stress-eating.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1697723454997458397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1697723454997458397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/stress-eating.html' title='Stress Eating'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-8665298140982262712</id><published>2009-09-08T04:55:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T04:58:11.859+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><title type='text'>Cutie Cousins</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/642381079_S7Low-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This pic was taken about two weekends ago. It always makes me feel all warm and senti when I watch you play and bond with your cousins. And you guys are really lucky for having these moments documented well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grow up friends, little ones, grow up friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-8665298140982262712?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/8665298140982262712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/cutie-cousins.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/8665298140982262712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/8665298140982262712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/cutie-cousins.html' title='Cutie Cousins'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-2024531070736403709</id><published>2009-09-06T01:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T01:07:00.847+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><title type='text'>Too Cute for Words</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/636351875_Bg3UC-S.jpg"&gt; &lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/636352592_QCAbf-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/636353425_VHMYb-S.jpg"&gt; &lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/636370471_8EQTt-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/636374632_ia232-S-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the words of Momsy, you looked like you were going to go a-courting someone. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-2024531070736403709?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/2024531070736403709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/too-cute-for-words.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2024531070736403709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2024531070736403709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/too-cute-for-words.html' title='Too Cute for Words'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-3433839840646904964</id><published>2009-09-05T05:04:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T05:07:25.688+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yikes'/><title type='text'>Curious Yakee</title><content type='html'>Wednesday night, as I was preparing your bath and Pappie was packing, guess who peed on the floor... and in the course of me getting a rag to wipe it up, dipped his fingers in the pee and tasted it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess, Baby, guess. Clue: that little boy has a bump between his eyebrows right now from falling face flat on the floor from running after balloons.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-3433839840646904964?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/3433839840646904964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/curious-yakee.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3433839840646904964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3433839840646904964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/curious-yakee.html' title='Curious Yakee'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-557151034237927544</id><published>2009-09-02T07:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T07:28:00.721+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><title type='text'>Boat Ride</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/636539166_Qwc7e-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's your first boat ride in an amusement place and someday, I hope you thank Pappie for being game because you both got so wet here. But you loved it. And we love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-557151034237927544?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/557151034237927544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/boat-ride.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/557151034237927544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/557151034237927544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/boat-ride.html' title='Boat Ride'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-504772682952777736</id><published>2009-09-01T00:30:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T01:06:53.467+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Bubbly Bunso</title><content type='html'>You ate an entire cob of corn again yesterday. And all this long weekend, people have marveled over your appetite, and the fact that you really like feeding yourself. You squashed and got so excited over Lianne's rabbits (KC and Chloe), kept staking your claim over the organ, kept making everyone laugh, kept dancing and singing and responding when you're not the one being talked to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Momsy and Ninang Ira gave you your first licked bowl experience... it was a bowl of cocoa powder and butter or the fudgies that we were making. You loved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you loved being able to wash your own hands at Momsy's, just by pushing a chair to get to the faucet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you ran like the wind all over Heritage Park, and enjoyed watching planes pass by, and entertained guests by dancing when a woman sang. And you looked so cute and wonderful in your outfit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And lately, you're fairly content with short naps... but still really love napping in the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy and Pappie couldn't have been more prouder.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-504772682952777736?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/504772682952777736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/bubbly-bunso.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/504772682952777736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/504772682952777736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/09/bubbly-bunso.html' title='Bubbly Bunso'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-3271407579943900227</id><published>2009-08-29T03:04:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T03:16:25.770+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yikes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>Updates</title><content type='html'>In a word, you are a HANDFUL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But i'd also call you VERY INDEPENDENT, WILLFUL, STRONG-WILLED and CURIOUS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody can keep up with you. And you're lucky your aunts dote on you because you can sometimes be really mean with Iya, who is very patient with you. Well, we all know that you don't know better. And you do have your shining moments of real sweetness and cuteness that you are easily forgiven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You like going up and down the stairs again, and find it utterly funny to be able to hold onto the handrail and not just the side ones. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You like getting water from the jug and getting us to drink it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You like pouring liquids in cups. And you have a taste for Yakult again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are addicted to the Brainy Baby "Sounds" and "Music" videos. Or Curious George. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And last night, without any prompting at all, after seeing that Mommy brought ice cream, you giggled in  glee and signed THANK YOU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy spanked you real hard today/yesterday because you tried climbing up the stove to see your eggs being cooked. You could have been scalded and burned and Mommy was absolutely terrified. I think you were surprised by being really spanked and hearing Mommy scream that way that you didn't cry much and absolutely kept quiet for several minutes. You also stayed where I put you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when Mommy was apologizing and explaining, you just kept kissing Mommy and saying "Okay". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you were sweet and manageable all the rest of the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-3271407579943900227?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/3271407579943900227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/08/updates.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3271407579943900227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3271407579943900227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/08/updates.html' title='Updates'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-888257800991466747</id><published>2009-08-19T23:09:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T23:40:52.781+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yikes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>Difficult Day</title><content type='html'>Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You started the day by crying and throwing a tantrum as early as 7 AM, when we're still in bed and I was nursing you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You refused everything I offered you, but later ate the porridge we bought. You only willingly ate because you were watching cartoons with Ice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then you nursed while I told you your birthing story... and fell asleep. But some sort of radar you had told you that Mommy's breast is no longer in your mouth so you woke up and got upset, even with Mommy beside you. After thirty minutes of throwing a tantrum, you did sleep on your own. For two hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, you were your usual happy self till you woke up after your late afternoon nap. Again, tantrums at not being able to play all you want with the faucet while Mommy was cooking. And just before your night bath, you were throwing cups and chair. You also bit Mommy's arm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A milestone... you were able to open the latch in the screen door. Now we're really going to have a harder time containing you at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pappie bought you a replacement guitar last night and you broke the strings today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-888257800991466747?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/888257800991466747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/08/difficult-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/888257800991466747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/888257800991466747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/08/difficult-day.html' title='Difficult Day'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-1743704236959908695</id><published>2009-08-13T20:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T20:49:00.917+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yikes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Wee Wee Trick</title><content type='html'>I let Yakee go without a diper last night for a while because he's going to take a bath soon anyway, for bedtime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He spread his legs and I knew he was going to pee on the floor. He only peed a little, took two steps back, then peed again. And then he took two steps back and peed again! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then he laughed, and as I was tugging him to me so he won't accidentally step on his pee, he ran away from me. And of course, he stepped on the first wee puddle and slipped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember a friend's son finding it funny to pee on the stairs (from the top) so I guess, it's really going to be a while longer before I start potty training my wee one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nights are usually war time for us. I don't know it it's because he's turning two but really, he's trying my patience so much these days. No matter how sleepy he is, he refuses to sleep at night and insist on playing on the bed. So lately, he can be heard crying because I banish him from the bed till he really gets tired enough to sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-1743704236959908695?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/1743704236959908695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/08/wee-wee-trick.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1743704236959908695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1743704236959908695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/08/wee-wee-trick.html' title='Wee Wee Trick'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-3905379016313547538</id><published>2009-08-09T18:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T19:03:58.481+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Cake Reveller</title><content type='html'>Well, I guess the three-hour nap helped improve his move immensely. He barely had lunch because he was throwing tantrums, flinging food, and just really being difficult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But anyway, after the nap, he was okay. And Pappie made nachos for merienda which he loved. Of course, he really only loves the tortilla chips and cheese sauce. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then we had cake. This cake was made by Pappie last Friday at the Goldilocks event and it was only today that we got him to pose with it. After this shot, I got a thick slice for us all three to share. I also had the jelly, sugary tubes for decorating out and we taught Yakee to squeeze it on the cake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/614856119_3Lj2T-M-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bad news for Mommy though... he loved the sugar flowers (esply the big, tangy ones) and at one point, he scopped up an entire layer of icing, put it in his mouth and didn't gag from all its buttercream goodness. Ouch! Pappie was shocked to see him eat Mommy's icing, and Mommy was sure he would spit it out because it's very rich... but alas, Yakee got Mommy's mocha cake toth after all (because he still generally doesn't like sweets).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-3905379016313547538?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/3905379016313547538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/08/cake-reveller.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3905379016313547538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3905379016313547538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/08/cake-reveller.html' title='Cake Reveller'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-5372687818947919477</id><published>2009-08-06T14:32:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T14:36:28.433+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Bye to Cory, Baby</title><content type='html'>Pappie brought you to the corner of Quirino and Osmeña for Cory's funeral cortege. You marvelled at the doves, the number of people, and the helicopter. And then rain started falling hard just after Cory's truck passed and you pooped, so Pappie brought you home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The excitement must have been to much for you because it took over two hours getting you to nap, and much tears and wailing, and a chair-throwing tantrum. Heck, you even threw yourself on the floor in front of the CR... hay...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But after your nap, you were your usual happy self. Howell, all's well that ends well, and you did get to say your goodbye to an icon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-5372687818947919477?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/5372687818947919477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/08/bye-to-cory-baby.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/5372687818947919477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/5372687818947919477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/08/bye-to-cory-baby.html' title='Bye to Cory, Baby'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-8411696125496160289</id><published>2009-08-01T12:39:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T12:42:24.524+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>Sweet</title><content type='html'>You held out your hands to Ice to 'ask' him to dance. Then you did your signature hip-bumping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the sweetest thing, my love. And then you and Ice spent some moments with your heads on the floor, looking at each other and just talking. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It almost makes up for all the time you refuse to share toys with him, which is 90% of the time. Hehe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-8411696125496160289?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/8411696125496160289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/08/sweet.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/8411696125496160289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/8411696125496160289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/08/sweet.html' title='Sweet'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-1244836848389062343</id><published>2009-07-27T01:48:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T02:03:58.002+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>Vocabulary</title><content type='html'>About two months ago, I started listing down the words that Yakee says, babbles, understands and signs. It was hard because he generally responds to conversations already and I keep realizing that I forgot to include certain words in the list so in the end, I just stopped updating the list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for what it's worth, let me blog about those words. And some words he could sign, he could also say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WORDS SAID&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;giraffe, zebra, butterfly, cow, chicken, duck, lizard, fruit, lollipop, chocolate, cake, pizza, drum, umbrella, xylophone, cup, sit, Ninang, Tito, Momsy, poop, pee, star, wash, smile&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WORDS SIGNED&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lion, bird, tiger, horse, monkey, bear, elephant, rabbit, dog, cat, fish, frog, juice, egg, apple, peach, pear, grapes, vegetable, ball, balloon, bubbles, bug, hot, cold, candy, flower, trumpet, telephone, towel, sleep, outside, car, spoon, fork, Mommy, Pappie, lolo, lola, milk, watch, book, cooking, cookie, banana, orange, dirty, clean, red, nice, wet, dry, happy, blanket, play, toy, yes, boy, girl, train, bus, boat, plane, bath, soap, cereal, color, cheese, tree, wind, rain, plane, goodnight, help&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now... he just really knows more words! And funnily enough, he speaks Tagalog (and in phrases) when we're at my in laws ("Di masarap, yoko nyan, etc") and still refuses to repeat "I Love You".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ask him to say Goofy and he'd say, "Sfufi" :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-1244836848389062343?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/1244836848389062343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/07/vocabulary.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1244836848389062343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1244836848389062343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/07/vocabulary.html' title='Vocabulary'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-3032745995311738930</id><published>2009-07-22T17:01:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T17:30:21.171+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><title type='text'>Sick Baby</title><content type='html'>He was a little down after eating at Don Vito, that last night in Boracay. But he was frolicking at the beach again the following day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, Sunday night in Kalibo, he was already warm. Warm again Monday and then he started having 39-degree fevers Tuesday. The fever would go on and off, and now, the highest it's been is only 38. But i've had him massaged by Tita Evelyn and hope it was just really viral or pilay that got him. He's not nauseous and lethargic, he has appetite and plays, and I am actually allowing more TV so he'd stay seated for longer periods of time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, i've finished uploading his Boracay pics. And meanwhile, he's at that stage when any little thing frightens him. Irrational fears that he never had before... now he'd even cry because of someone shouting in a commercial. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/598075930_xxgJs-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/598072777_A2oyq-M.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/598116031_GvZMT-M-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-3032745995311738930?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/3032745995311738930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/07/sick-baby.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3032745995311738930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3032745995311738930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/07/sick-baby.html' title='Sick Baby'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-3362364395115180244</id><published>2009-07-21T00:57:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T00:58:41.757+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Back Home</title><content type='html'>What you did the first hour you're home is go through your toys as if conducting an inventory if they're all still here. Mommy is sorry we didn't bring any of them with us, but I think your guitar makes up for all the days you went without them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, please, stop running a fever baby.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-3362364395115180244?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/3362364395115180244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/07/back-home.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3362364395115180244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3362364395115180244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/07/back-home.html' title='Back Home'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-6774363920700945647</id><published>2009-07-18T07:26:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T07:35:37.590+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Boracay Trooper</title><content type='html'>Leave it to you to be the only toddler (sometimes, actually the only person) playing in the beach when the ocean is raging with waves and the wind is so strong that everywhere, establishments have put up storm screens. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leave it to you to try eating sand just because you're delighted with them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leave it to you to be the only one actually enjoying the rain here in Boracay, and to be happy with puddles and flood and the frogs that accompany the rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leave it to you to allow guides to carry you just so you can go into a cave, or go down a steep set of stairs on your own to go into one, and to relish swimming even though the water is cold. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leave it to you to eat vegetable bread sticks while everyone in our boat were huddling close for warmth and to escape the heavy beating of rain and splash of sea... and then to fall asleep through it all, as if nothing was happening and we didn't have to leave the big motor boat for a small one. And that you could smile when you hear the word 'Jollibee' when everybody, including you, were dripping from the rain that was pouring down on us for hours then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to still not have a cold after days of rain and sea... and still have fun. You're really such a trooper darling, Pappie and Mommy are so happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-6774363920700945647?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/6774363920700945647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/07/boracay-trooper.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/6774363920700945647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/6774363920700945647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/07/boracay-trooper.html' title='Boracay Trooper'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-2615812890693066976</id><published>2009-07-13T11:04:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T11:09:20.825+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><title type='text'>Missing Your Shaved Head</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/570622591_pHQUj-Ti.jpg" align="left"&gt;Everybody's been commenting about your hair, how long it already is, how unruly, how weird. And last Saturday, we realized that if your "buntot" goes to your right, your lolo Ruben's goes to his left. Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, you kept stepping on lolo's foot that was swollen with gout when we visited him in the hospital. But he loves you so he didn't mind much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pappie is worried that you'd be a handful in Boracay. And he was asking me why you're already "terrible" when you're not even two. I told him that you've been fairly advanced socially, verbally, physically so it isn't a surprise that you are one raging independent, curious, overactive boy now. I should keep you away from sweets though if we're to manage for five days in Boracay... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We love you. We're struggling with you but we love you. And we wouldn't have it any other way because you are a cute, healthy, smart, loving, lovable kid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-2615812890693066976?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/2615812890693066976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/07/missing-your-shaved-head.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2615812890693066976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2615812890693066976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/07/missing-your-shaved-head.html' title='Missing Your Shaved Head'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-6185488506327406618</id><published>2009-07-08T12:04:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T12:05:49.799+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Funny Boy</title><content type='html'>Yakee was fascinated to watch Mommy blow her nose. He even immitated Mommy. But when Mommy started picking on her nose to clean it further, Yakee was aghast, horrified, scandalized. He began wagging his finger at me and saying "No, no, no!" :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I wouldn't stop, he started pulling my shorts. Hehe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-6185488506327406618?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/6185488506327406618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/07/funny-boy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/6185488506327406618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/6185488506327406618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/07/funny-boy.html' title='Funny Boy'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-7098983480107454882</id><published>2009-07-07T15:40:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T15:47:09.241+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Jollibee Uh-Oh</title><content type='html'>Last Saturday, we had my sister and her boyfriend bring Yakee to Jollibee to eat breakfast while hubs and I attended the Pedia Talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, Yakee woke up when I was about to take a bath because I was going out. He was actually jolly enough and the minute he was downstairs, he started going for the door, wanting to go out and saying "Jollibee" again and again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yikes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was tempted to give them money for Jollibee but hubs reminded me it won't be a good practice. Anyway, buying lugaw was diversion enough. I guess he just really liked going out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite some tantrums when you're uber sleepy or you want to play, you've been pretty mellower lately, baby Yakee. Love you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-7098983480107454882?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/7098983480107454882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/07/jollibee-uh-oh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/7098983480107454882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/7098983480107454882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/07/jollibee-uh-oh.html' title='Jollibee Uh-Oh'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-8004847627464852216</id><published>2009-07-01T13:16:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T13:23:20.406+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Bad Behavior</title><content type='html'>Because you were upset, you turned on Ice and pushed him so hard that he landed on the floor from standing up. And there was a loud thump as his head hit the floor. The good thing was, it seems he wasn't really THAT hurt because a short trip outside in the arms of his mother calmed him down readily and he still wanted to play with you after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spanked your bottom. I also slapped your hand. Not that hard, but I hit you still. Mommy was so angry and ashamed of what you did because someone was hurt (your aunt just couldn't really get angry with us but am sure she was seething) but most of all, Mommy was actually angry and ashamed of herself for not being more attuned to you to catch such tantrums. And Mommy is struggling with the disciplining bit. She is trying to be as consistent as possible and I guess it's natural that you will rage against it initially, or sometimes, but the tears are always hard. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry I hit you. I'm sorry I am not a better Mom. I'm sorry but I will continue to let you cry sometimes because I have to raise you valuing what's good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-8004847627464852216?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/8004847627464852216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/07/bad-behavior.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/8004847627464852216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/8004847627464852216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/07/bad-behavior.html' title='Bad Behavior'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-3189209261269006062</id><published>2009-06-29T00:49:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T00:56:54.146+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Official Reprimands</title><content type='html'>The first was when you were banging a spoon on one of the chairs in the foodcourt at Divisoria Mall. A lady guard approached and told you sternly that what you were doing was prohibited, before turning to us, your minders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second was yesterday. You were wandering near the altar just before Jaden's christening and one of the ladies in charge of the proceedings took your arm to lead you back to the pews. She had to do this twice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy was half-embarrassed, half-amused.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-3189209261269006062?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/3189209261269006062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/06/official-reprimands.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3189209261269006062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/3189209261269006062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/06/official-reprimands.html' title='Official Reprimands'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-2431929102567046345</id><published>2009-06-25T11:40:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T11:45:14.483+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Hitting Mommy</title><content type='html'>Mommy knows you're usually just frustrated. And though we haven't made a habit of spanking and hitting you to discipline you, we've still done it enough times for you to maybe think it's an acceptable way to express yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, when Mommy refuses to let ypu continue nursing (basically because you're just playing anyway), you sometimes tend to hit. One night, Pappie saw you doing it. I was conversing with you, reminding you that doing that won't get you what you want and would further make Mommy ignore your pleas. Pappie asked me if he did that often. I smiled to myself because I felt the need to lie to protect you and defend you, but I told him the truth and explained you the best way I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pappie said he's going to spank you for hitting me. Because it breaks his heart to see anyone hurting me, even if you're not hitting me hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, Pappie may sometimes end up hitting you or spanking you because you're getting carried away with the aggression. But do know this, Pappie loves me so much, not even you are allowed to lay a hand on me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are very lucky that way. Someday, you will realize how so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-2431929102567046345?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/2431929102567046345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/06/hitting-mommy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2431929102567046345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2431929102567046345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/06/hitting-mommy.html' title='Hitting Mommy'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-4291856829928255263</id><published>2009-06-19T14:05:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T14:09:31.449+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Future Engineer?</title><content type='html'>It seems my son has been reinforcing the supports of our stackable tray (those multi-level plastic trays) by shooting pens down the hollow supports. I thought it was a new thing he did, but when I got the pen he slipped there today, I saw 6 other pens!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Left baby to Ninang's care last night. We got home at past 12. Heard he had crackers and milk before bedtime. Poor darling, he really gets driven to eat more when am not around.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-4291856829928255263?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/4291856829928255263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/06/future-engineer.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/4291856829928255263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/4291856829928255263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/06/future-engineer.html' title='Future Engineer?'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-8199129059302321943</id><published>2009-06-17T18:17:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T21:19:46.576+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>First Divi Trip</title><content type='html'>It was raining and there is the swine flu scare. But Mommy still thought it a good idea to bring you and Ninang Gang along to Divi. And you loved being out. And you loved running around the Duvisoria Mall foodcourt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy's glad you're not allergic to seafood, and enjoyed the misua soup with the squid, shrimp and halaan ingredients. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you were in ecstasies when we were at Anding's Toy shop... delighting over the balls and trying to open everything you can reach. Mommy bought you a drum set, a trumpet and a true-blue harmonica (that you insist she plays for you). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You started climbing the plastic drawer near the computer three days ago. On your own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're having a harder time to poop these days so Mommy decided to let you poop on your briefs. You said "Yakk" when you saw Mommy tipping your poop into the toilet bowl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The drum lasted 3 hours before its surface was dented beyond saving. The trumpet was broken in two an hour after. So much for playing instruments. (Pappie loved the harmonica because it's the same model he bought when he was young)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-8199129059302321943?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/8199129059302321943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/06/first-divi-trip.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/8199129059302321943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/8199129059302321943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/06/first-divi-trip.html' title='First Divi Trip'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-207636713115331130</id><published>2009-06-14T23:17:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T23:20:29.358+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milestone'/><title type='text'>Progress Report</title><content type='html'>Yakee had great fun at Momsy's again. He even went with them to buy cake at Conti's and buy food at Chowking, which took him away from us for at least two hours. While away, I heard he ate siomai and drank pineapple juice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because we seldom eat at proper times at the in-laws, Yakee was hungry during the trip to Tagaytay. So much so that he managed to eat almost an entire bushel of corn. He later on also had fun eating pineapples while dancing as we had dinner at the market.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He really loves icecream and loves strawberry ice cream. He can even eat around half of a strawberries and banana blizzard at DQ, much to his Ninang's chagrin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He loves when I hum or sing Flores de Mayo hymns to him and usually falls asleep in no time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He knows Amelia Bedelia and loves the Bedelia books, but he prefers the one with the&lt;br /&gt;baby and loves pointing out the Dad in the book to me. He also knows Jesus and gets his Kiddie Bibble book when he wants us to 'read' about Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First succesful time that hetold us that he's going to pee before he actually did. He wouldn't go with the bowl in front of him though and preferred the floor. Actually, whenever I remove his diaper andputs him down, he's taken that as cue for him to pee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two areas where we've made pronounced progress is breastfeeding and sleeping. Half the time, when Yakee cries in his sleep and insists on nursing, I can tell him to go back to sleep without the milk and he would. Sometimes, he's even fallen asleep for the night without the milk (on the nights he wouldn't settle readily and has already nursed several times). Also during the day, when I know he's just bored or something, I can tell him to wait or nurse later and he'd go back to playing or running around. Of course, sometimes, there are tears involved. Hehe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's really growing long. I'm finding it awkward to have him in my arms, asleep, while travelling because he'd sometimes get in Pappie's way while driving. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He licked a flyswatter today. He ended up crying because he got scared of Tito Rocky's loud voice trying to stop him from what he's doing. But he still loves Tito because he gave him a remote control bug.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-207636713115331130?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/207636713115331130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/06/progress-report.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/207636713115331130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/207636713115331130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/06/progress-report.html' title='Progress Report'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-7457125087953601679</id><published>2009-06-09T10:59:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T11:07:02.920+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Building Forts</title><content type='html'>It's his big thing right now, building forts. Or rather, turning things into forts... like his rocker... or his cousin's bike. He likes it when I use his puzzle mats to make tents for him. It's really cute and weird for him to be into this thing this early... he even insists on having Pappie as a fort of sorts while watching TV. Makes him feel safe, probably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He broke his first glass yesterday by throwing it on the table. My fault really because it was glass. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spanked his bare bottom with my bare hand last night. Twas just one swat really, to make him pay attention. He was being too hyper, and this after he peed on my feet. What annoyed me was, after peeing, he touched his pee (and my foot) eh he was eating chicken nuggets. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I threw his poop into the toilet bowl before discarding his diaper. Then I flushed the toilet so he'd see his poop disappear. He started bending down to see where the poop went to. Funny :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-7457125087953601679?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/7457125087953601679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/06/building-forts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/7457125087953601679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/7457125087953601679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/06/building-forts.html' title='Building Forts'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-379597016557613172</id><published>2009-06-05T16:16:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T16:18:42.258+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yikes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yey'/><title type='text'>Battles and Struggles</title><content type='html'>Two nights in a row, I had to take you out of bed because you refused to sleep. The first night, you cried for an hour before you allowed yourself to relax and sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you refuse to let go of the breasts again and Mommy has PMS, so Mommy suffered your crying this morning. You got exhausted in the end and slept with Mom's caresses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry we're having difficult days my son. I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You learned about GREEN and BLUE yesterday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-379597016557613172?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/379597016557613172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/06/battles-and-struggles.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/379597016557613172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/379597016557613172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/06/battles-and-struggles.html' title='Battles and Struggles'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-2469304946862208987</id><published>2009-06-01T14:32:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T18:22:31.381+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><title type='text'>Updates</title><content type='html'>Yakee's big thing nowadays is packing his toys away after he played with him, and returning most of the things he plays with. It's really nice when he does it without being told.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He kept dancing while we were having lunch at the Kapitana's house last night. He also kept dancing during the Novena and got quite upset that we left (offered) the flowers at the altar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He slipped last night while about to drink his milk and ended up spilling the milk on the bed. I chose not to get upset about it and decided instead to take a picture. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WXWcJqbykSI/SiN3EQmbnMI/AAAAAAAAAPM/DpYdvRxLttg/s1600-h/yakee+milk.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WXWcJqbykSI/SiN3EQmbnMI/AAAAAAAAAPM/DpYdvRxLttg/s400/yakee+milk.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342244498050882754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You should have seen the surprise and confusion in his face after getting doused with the milk. Hehe. A N@Wie Mom said it best... our son has a great outlook in life for he doesn't cry over spilt milk. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-2469304946862208987?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/2469304946862208987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/06/updates.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2469304946862208987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/2469304946862208987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/06/updates.html' title='Updates'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WXWcJqbykSI/SiN3EQmbnMI/AAAAAAAAAPM/DpYdvRxLttg/s72-c/yakee+milk.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-193400349221638392</id><published>2009-05-28T17:15:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T17:15:00.268+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><title type='text'>Marinduque Pics - Gabrielle Shots</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/541304061_HkLcs-M-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dirty, dirty boy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/541306585_w9VWZ-M-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;always insisting to jump from this ledge&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/541308867_Ap7Cp-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;posing with cousins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/541312528_NoKn5-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pactice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/541312733_bCRYh-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;another practice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/541314846_qJPFc-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on the water na&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/541315548_UnDhg-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;happy boy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/541317668_NuGnz-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;beat this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/541320139_8qN4k-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/541335622_RLCdb-M-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;epitome of fun with sand&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-193400349221638392?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/193400349221638392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/05/marinduque-pics-gabrielle-shots.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/193400349221638392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/193400349221638392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/05/marinduque-pics-gabrielle-shots.html' title='Marinduque Pics - Gabrielle Shots'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-5859432741139986225</id><published>2009-05-27T19:06:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T19:06:00.615+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pics'/><title type='text'>Marinduque Pics - Hedwig Shots</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/542066883_c9eEN-S.jpg"&gt; &lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/542071396_KfG8U-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hungry, he binged on cookies; he also kept dancing&lt;br /&gt;during the trip&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/542093508_GxqSS-S.jpg"&gt; &lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/542093874_QyXMD-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he played and tried drinking from&lt;br /&gt;the snail/crab thingie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/542105724_LGU4v-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he quit swimming at the hotsprings&lt;br /&gt;out of hunger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/542110432_nD8J4-S.jpg"&gt; &lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/542111434_rGTKs-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;enjoying the adult treehouse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/542116111_kXW56-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;trying to go overboard to reach the water&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/542121986_Mz6NS-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;having way too much fun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/542132443_wqDtk-S.jpg"&gt; &lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/542132238_ePump-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rubeus Iakob Arevalo, tananatan, tanananatan...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/542139075_WrmXk-S.jpg"&gt; &lt;img src="http://mecsexy.smugmug.com/photos/542139831_ZycTZ-S.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you're cute!&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-5859432741139986225?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/5859432741139986225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/05/marinduque-pics-hedwig-shots.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/5859432741139986225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/5859432741139986225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/05/marinduque-pics-hedwig-shots.html' title='Marinduque Pics - Hedwig Shots'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-932462196824721775</id><published>2009-05-26T19:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T19:05:55.534+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Baby Likes Bean</title><content type='html'>Mr. Bean, that is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why but he just really watches Mr. Bean shows with rapt attention. He doesn't laugh or anything, he just really watches the shows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, Ninang Gang caught a dragonfly for Yakee and attached a string to it. For a while, Yakee was content pulling it after him but he later detached it from the string and put it in his water cup. Later on, he tried drinking from the same cup with the bug still in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crazy boy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-932462196824721775?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/932462196824721775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/05/baby-likes-bean.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/932462196824721775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/932462196824721775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/05/baby-likes-bean.html' title='Baby Likes Bean'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-7003323064743717483</id><published>2009-05-23T01:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T01:18:32.980+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>This Week So Far</title><content type='html'>You were such a good boy this week baby. Eventhough Tita Ninang wasn't there to help, we generally had great fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You helped me do the laundry by playing in your tub.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we survived a trip to Robinsons on our own. You just occupied yourself eating a waffle while I pushed our cart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, no errand or trip would dissuade you from passing by that carinderia to see the rabbits. You even get Pappie to take you there for no reason at all. He can't resist you signing rabbit. Hehe. He's been trying to convince me that we get you one but sorry darling, you're still too young for a pet and Mommy isn't ready for one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and yeah... you like licking soap and trying to drink from the faucet or showerhead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-7003323064743717483?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/7003323064743717483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/05/this-week-so-far.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/7003323064743717483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/7003323064743717483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/05/this-week-so-far.html' title='This Week So Far'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982007552412831792.post-1582363915298906694</id><published>2009-05-19T23:04:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T23:14:00.226+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yikes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tales'/><title type='text'>Yucky, Wacky</title><content type='html'>Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Marinduque, I was chagrined many times because you insisted on munching on sand and crushed coral. You even attempted to eat the live snails you saw on the rocks at Melchor Island.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, you also tried sipping the water and kissing that crab-snail thing they caught for you to play with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you insisted on scooping ocean water with your toy and drinking it. The following day, we saw a rat swimming in the same ocean. Then again, it's the same ocean where you probably peed in and the same one where you pooped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you also put pebbles in your mouth and attempted to chew on barks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, that's not counting all the water you end up drinking when we go swimming, whether in the ocean or at the hotsprings pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But today... you really scared and amazed me. You found mouse dropping and proceeded to savor it in your mouth. Worse, you only spit hot things or real food you don't like, but things like lint and crumbs and plastic chips and paper don't bother you. You just keep savoring it and rolling it in your tongue. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God I got most of that mouse dropping, which was only about a grain of rice in size. But no amount of scooping and scrubbing your mouth with water and my finger could deny the fact that damage has been done. You have ingested something really, really atrocious. One that can make you really sick. One that can really be toxic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I am fretting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, you continue being happy as a lark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*~*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the new words you learned in Marinduque though, saying 'nice', 'delicious' and 'pebbles' on your own.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3982007552412831792-1582363915298906694?l=blogniyakee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/feeds/1582363915298906694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/05/yucky-wacky.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1582363915298906694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982007552412831792/posts/default/1582363915298906694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogniyakee.blogspot.com/2009/05/yucky-wacky.html' title='Yucky, Wacky'/><author><name>Mec</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02655153874550285916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
