Everyone I know, including myself, is obsessed with being called a “good” parent. Why is parenting such a serious “business” in the first place? Why even find it so stressful and time-consuming? There are many answers to this but the only valid answer I know is every parent tries very hard to do his or her job well. Whether to raise a moral child, a genius child , a happy or independent child, parents are obsessed with these goals. So what kind of parent am I? The kind that wants only the best for her kids.

Perhaps the other question would be is who is the better parent? Many of the parents I know would spend their entire weekend with their children–playing with them, going to the mall or watching movies together. The other half are probably spending their time doing chores, cleaning the house, cooking for their children and just to put it simply, keeping the house in order. So, who is the better parent?

A friend of mine left her job as an executive in one advertising agency to stay home with her kids. I was witness to how hard it was for her to reach her executive position and what a difficult decision that must have been to give it up. Other mothers who are afraid to leave their jobs would probably feel guilty while reading this but then again, who are we to judge? These parents surely have their reasons.

I have high respects for parents who take care of their families as well as do their job. I guess these people are more blessed than the rest of us. They probably have more money to find qualified and competent staff to do assigned tasks well. Or they have secret and better time management tricks up their sleeves all the time. But then again, who’s to say that they’re better parents than we are?

At the end of the day, regardless of whatever happens in a parent’s life, she won’t enjoy it unless her kids are doing well. Having a child makes your priorities straight. You’ll never waste your time again on anything stupid like staying up late to wait for your lover’s call or praying to get that promotion just because you don’t like the other guy to get it. Never again. I think any parent who has been in a situation waiting in a doctor’s clinic with a sick child would understand what I’m trying to get at.

When I first brought my child to the park in his stroller, I noticed a lot of parents giving me a warm smile. Like they knew my situation. Or was it a “welcome to the club” thing. Whatever that was, we are all in this together. Even though our world is so fast-paced and it’s easy to forget, there’s nothing more important than to raise our children well. Because we are parents and that’s what we do.

This is my official entry to the Pinoy Parenting Blog Carnival (PPBC) 6th Edition hosted by Happy Family Matters.

photo: jenklairkids.com

Gosh, I’ve been sick again. It might be a lot of things. The weather, problems, money, relationships? It all boils down to stress. STRESS, can’t live with it, can’t live without it. Like a survivor, I thought I can outlive, outlast, outplay it. For awhile, I thought I can even outrun it with badminton. That, I thought would keep the beast at bay.

So where did I end up after religiously playing badminton thrice a week? I ended up with sore muscles, healthier appetite, more dirty laundry, aching legs and stress-related sinusitis and headaches. Three weeks of devotion to the highly energized game of badminton and I end up with incredible pain in the head.

According to my head doctor, I had to stop any intense activity, at least temporarily. Stop badminton. Ok, fine. So what was left to do? Cooking, cleaning the house, driving, tutoring…These are all intense. If I had to stop any intense activity, then parenting would be it. We’re talking major tragedy here when that happens. That’s impossible.

The truth is, I am afraid to stop. I am afraid that I’d gain more weight, more stress and I’d be more boring. I admit that badminton was the only thing I did apart from being a full-time mom. Now that I had to stop it, I kinda knew that my life would be boring. Every fifteen minutes I can hear myself saying: you’re boring, you’re fat and you’re nothing except a full-time mom. You’re nothing since you stopped badminton.

Since I’m a lost cause, a slob and a badminton has-been, I decided to drown my misery in dozing off and eating. Those are not intense activities so I’m just following doctor’s orders. So, on weekends I sleep a little bit more like 4 hours more and I am down in the dumps when it comes to food. I particularly like the deepest and darkest of junk food: chips, chocolate, french fries, etcetera.

The stress of badminton is killing me but the separation anxiety with badminton is also killing me. So I might start walking my way out of this vicious state.

photo: QLC: Day 85 | Exercise Ball by loveberries

I haven’t written so much about men in this blog. Not that I don’t have a good handful of experience with men. In fact, it’s the other way around. And they were not entirely happy experiences.

To begin with, I didn’t make good choices. They were not saints nor pastors. They were womanizers, drunks, and out-of-work bastards. So, you might think I brought this all to myself. Of course not, men are jerks.

Wait. I will explain this the best I could before anyone beats the crap out of me. Besides, my son is not a jerk.

Women can relate to this. Just bring together a group of gorgeous, bright, successful women who had their hearts broken a few too many times and you could just guess what credo they live by: men are jerks.

This credo is not always true. If women want to get rid of jerks in this world, we would be left with half the population. There are still men out there who do not fit the above. You just have to weed them out carefully. But I’m not good at weeding out. So I still pick the jerks.

So I’m prepared to get my heart broken again and again and again. Because some men really are jerks. Or I better start practicing living alone for the rest of my life. What would you do?

photo: men by silkfrequency

Or watch the news. There, I said it. It’s so depressing. All these problems. As if I don’t have problems of my own. Hunger, corruption, calamities…the list goes on.

And guess what, even if I stop watching, the news finds its way to me. Last week my sister called to say that life in the US is not so “good” anymore. Gas price is too high and she’s thinking of getting a job closer to home. I feel, as I have often and with good enough reason felt in my life, chastened by my own indifference.

I stopped watching the news three years ago when that awful documentary about children dying of malnutrition in some parts of the Philippines. I was so sickened and devastated that the government hadn’t done anything about it. Children dying without tasting milk and anything nutritious for that matter. I cried for two whole weeks which made me depressed and sickly. It was a good thing I eventually snapped out of it. Thanks to that I came back jaded and indifferent.

But many times I had to switch it back on because I found myself just shutting up when in a group of people with nothing better to talk about except current events. But I always turned it off again when the conversation moved onto a topic I knew something about. I mastered the trick of on and off.

Nowadays, when the media are doing an awesome job of covering and delivering the news, I don’t pay that much attention. I listen but I don’t watch. I surf the net while the news is on. Or I wash the dishes while the TV’s volume is on high. I’m like a kid pretending to listen to the teacher blabbering on and on.

I don’t know if this is a good thing. Pretending not to care. Because that doesn’t help me with my guilt at ignoring the news. I guess I still care about the news. I just don’t want it on a daily basis.

photo: news by magnusmagnus