A Morning with My Preschooler at La Mesa Eco Park

The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.

marcel proust

I still remember when I first visited La Mesa Eco Park in Quezon City for a fashion editorial shoot (one of my favorites!).  I was amazed that a park that large (33 hectares) could be hidden within this crowded city. That was in 2010 and I hadn't been back since, until a few weeks ago when E's nursery class visited the park for their end-of-year field trip and family day. I am glad to report that the park is still as green and well-kept as it was many years ago (which is not often the case for public areas in Manila, unfortunately).

One of the joys of having children is that I get to be a traveller in my hometown. I've lived in Metro Manila for most of my life and I've visited most of the kid-friendly places in the city, thanks to the 11 years I spent as a writer and then an editor for three kids' magazines (first, K-Zone; then, Monster Allergy; then, finally, my beloved Total Girl). But I was not yet a parent in those days.

Visiting with a preschooler on a mission to fully experience everything rather than with a fashion editorial team on a tight schedule allowed me to see the park with fresh, eager, and gracious eyes. I know some may dread taking their young kids out in public because of the potential for disaster—I know because, on some days, I am one of those people—but I urge you to bring a venti cup of coffee to rinse away the pessimism  and try to see all the potential for wonder, three feet from the ground, arms outstretched, head in constant motion. Up, down, back, around, then back up again. And if, on that morning, you are having trouble finding joy, bring a magnifying glass. No, really. Literally. Because if you do, I guarantee your preschooler will have no trouble pointing out to you that there is much to wonder about hiding in plain view.

Family Fun Field Trip: A Strawberry-Picking Side Trip for the Baguio-bound

An unexpected family obligation a few weeks ago led to an unexpected milestone: Ella and her papa's first father-daughter trip. Although they only stayed overnight, they managed to fill their short trip with memorable experiences, not the least of which was strawberry picking at La Trinidad, Benguet. I'm so glad they made the time for the side trip! (This was before we read Stefen Chow's Medium article about father-toddler adventures that's been going around. Read it for inspiring insight!)

Papa W rarely takes photos so I'm impressed and touched that he remembered to take a few for my sake. Since I didn't come along, I can't fully narrate so I'll let the pictures do the talking. Their stories and photos were enough to get me excited enough to share this with you. Read on also for tot schooling tips to go with your trip!

Today, I Let Her Win

"After I finish my coffee, it's Mommy and Ella time," I announced at the breakfast table. She had been in a lifeless and limp mood all morning. Practically melting into her bowl of yogurt. We blamed low blood sugar (she had skipped dinner the night before) and toddler-ness, but I had a feeling it also had something to do with her baby brother being attached to me since we woke up, getting cooed over and cuddled, and nursed (the thing she hates sharing the most). More than food, she needed Mommy, I guessed. When my announcement got the first smile of the morning, I knew I was right.

"So, what shall we do after breakfast?" Please, don't say paint. Please, don't say garden. Say "read a book," I prayed to myself. "I want to take a walk. With you," she answered. "In the backyard?" I said, fingers crossed. "No. Outside."

Oh. Outside. I never go outside. I am absolutely allergic to leaving the house. It is dusty. There are people. I'd have to look decent, wear a bra, brush my hair. Since leaving my job to become a stay-at-home mom, I'd further embraced my introversion and assigned the "people tasks" to the extroverts in the family: our helper, my husband, and E. They happily oblige: chatting with the neighbors, introducing themselves to strangers. This division of labor, it works. They handle the messy relationship thing. I take care of the indoor games: the art sessions, the block castle building, the storytelling. Yes, we will play, but we'll learn, too. Indoors, in my controlled environment. And I won't even need to find pants that still button up all the way.  

"Wouldn't you rather play upstairs?" I almost said. Like I always do. But, today, I pause, and didn't.

My Garden of Small Graces (Updated)

What does it take for a plant to grow? Soil plus water plus sun, right? That's what I was taught in kindergarten, and that's why I believe school doesn't prepare you for real life. Because if that's all it takes to succeed in gardening (just like it just takes a dream to succeed in life, they say), then this garden would be an Eden, not a green grave.

I started this garden project a few months year ago and I've had to bury more than a few hopes (in a new pot of soil, hoping they would grow again). An arrangement I bought from a local succulent grower died in two weeks (from overwatering, I believe—loved to death). A succulent that was thriving in one pot died when I moved it up to my hot but apparently sun-deficient office (those are its leaves you see in a rooting rosette). But every once in a while, a new leaf appears, a tiny white root peeks out, or a tired plant reunites with the sunlight and finds what it was looking for.

A humbled amateur, I'm thankful for the little graces Nature tosses her way, just enough to get my hands back in the dirt again the next day.

New Day, New Boo-Boo (and It's Okay)

A lesson in texture, pattern, and color

Being the mom of an active, curious toddler means being prepared to gracefully handle the scrapes, boo-boos, and tummy bugs that come with the (unsterile) territory. She’s just not the kind of girl who'll sit on the curb while her pals poke at worms and do headstands on the be-puddled concrete driveway. I’m just not the kind of mom who'll stand by her side with a hand-sanitizer around my wrist and a hand towel on my shoulder.  I thought I would be—maybe I would be if she'd let me. But she's happiest out of my shadow, running around barefoot in the garden while I'm still standing on the tile, clumsily putting my slippers on.