I'll Stand By You Part 3 **Warning: It's a Story Involving a LOT of Shit**

(continuing from Part 2)

Yes, this is a true story that really happened and I'm not making this up. 

By the time the maintenance crew arrived, I was safely out of sight, as planned.  I had chosen a spot where I could zoom in on my daughter yet remained unseen.  I saw my daughter opened the door, and without a word, pointed towards the bathroom.  I saw the back of the maintenance crew as they were about to enter the scene of the crime.  I held my breath and waited for the crew to start yelling expletives and ran the hell away from the bathroom.  When none of that happened, I started thanking Jesus for Balinese people's hospitality, which apparently transcended all understanding.

While the crew was inside the bathroom, hard at work, my daughter came out to where I was hiding.  She looked worried and (rightly so) asked me, "What's wrong, Mommy?"  I looked up from my semi-crouching position, and at that moment I just couldn't continue with the lies anymore.  So I told her, "Mommy did something really, really embarrassing, sweetie. I think I threw in too many tissue papers, and now the toilet's blocked.  So when I poo-poo just now, the poo didn't go down like it's supposed to when I flushed.  Now Mommy is so embarrassed, I don't want those people to see me."  There, I finally confessed the truth.

Well, what happened next was this: as soon as I finished my shameful confession, my little 5 year-old daughter sat down next to me, put one arm around me, and started singing:

Oh, why you look so sad?
Tears are in your eyes...
Come on and come to me now.
Don’t be ashamed to cry...
Let me see you through...
Cause I’ve seen the dark side too
When the night falls on you,
You don't know what to do?
Nothing you confess...
Could make me love you less...
I’ll stand by you... I'll stand by you...

There I was, sitting in my little hiding spot, and my baby girl was singing "I'll Stand by You" for me.
To tell the truth, I didn't know whether to laugh, or to cry.  First, I was surprised that she picked that moment to sing.  Second, I couldn't help but feeling that her choice of song was strangely fitting given the circumstances (I mean, she could have sung "London Bridge is Falling Down," but thank goodness she didn't).  Third, if you were listening to the words like I did, you'd notice the lyrics: "Nothing you confess... Could make me love you less..."  

Yep, I was convinced that, right there, was how God punished me for having lied and used my innocent daughter to cover for my own sorry ass. Nothing feels more shit-ty (or more hilarious) than having to confess to your 5 year-old kid that you accidentally shit all over the bathroom floor, then tried to put the blame on her, and guess what she did? She sang you a song, telling you that there's absolutely nothing you could do that would make her love you less.

I'll Stand By You Part 2 **Warning: It's a Story Involving a LOT of Shit**

(continuing from Part 1)

Satisfied with all the preparations I've made, I entered the bathroom, closed the door, and made myself comfortable.  I flipped through my first tabloid magazine, not forgetting to flush the toilet every now and then as was my habit.  Can't stand the thought of having those brownies piling up only inches from my butt, you know.  Eww, gross!  (if you think that's gross, then wait til you read this...)

Halfway through my second tabloid and a few toilet flushes later, I had this peculiar feeling that something was off.  By then I had finished my business anyway, and was only there because I wanted to read in peace.  With reluctance, I started to clean myself up.  With one final flush before I go, I stood up and was just about to leave the toilet cubicle when something caught my eyes.

Turned out that all those times that I had flushed, the little shits (literally) didn't go down.  The toilet was blocked, either by all the tissue paper I had so poorly disposed of earlier, or by the motherload I had just dumped into the bowl.  Either way, the situation was quickly getting out of hand, because it became obvious to me that this shit ain't going down anytime soon.  In fact, it's slowly rising and I didn't need to be Einstein to figure out that the final outcome will NOT be pretty.

Rendered motionless by the horror of it all, I was torn between calling the hotel's maintenance pronto, or cleaning after it myself.  If I called the maintenance, how on earth was I going to explain my situation?  "Err, hello, this is room 313, and I'd like to report an emergency.  There's a rising pile of shit that's about to overflow your beautiful bathroom floor?"  How was I ever going to save face when the maintenance crew came knocking at my door?  How could I ever look those nice, friendly Balinese people in the eyes once they've seen the things that came out of my butt??  I felt like that kid who had just been caught stealing with her hands still inside the cookie jar.  There was not a single lie that could cover the predicament I was in.  I was doomed to be "that woman whose shit blocked the toilet and flooded the bathroom's floor" from here on forward.

 "No, there is NO friggin way you're gonna clean it yourself! How? Don't tell me you're gonna be scooping poop out of the toilet bowl.  Even if you do, where are you gonna dump 'em?  You're not seriously thinking to do it with your bare hands, are you??  You're OCD, remember?!??"  I was practically scared shitless (no pun intended).  I couldn't think, I couldn't move.

Finally, sounds coming from the TV outside broke me out of my stupor.  I shut the bathroom door, grabbed the nearest phone, and called maintenance.  After I told them to hurry, I just HAD to add, "I'm so sorry...  but you know how it is with 5 year olds... "

Did I just LIE?  Was that me, pointing my finger at my sweet, innocent daughter?  Bad, bad, BAD mommy!  You'd think I'd get down on my knees and repent to God Almighty right there and then.  But it's me we're talking about here.

Blinking lights, ladies and gentlemen, World's Worst Mom moment coming right up!  As soon as I hung up the phone, I told my daughter that the maintenance people were coming to fix the toilet.  I explained to her why she must open the door when the doorbell rings.  I even gave her the tip money, wrapped in paper, to give to the maintenance crew once they completed the job.  And where would Mommy be when this happened?  Well, Mommy's gonna be outside in the patio, behind that little screen right there (because Mommy is a coward who's gonna hide her sorry bump where nice, friendly Balinese people can't find her).

 (please continue to Part 3)

I'll Stand By You Part 1 **Warning: It's a Story Involving a LOT of Shit**

One thing you probably don't need to know about me, but I've got to tell you anyway since it's relevant to this story, is that I have a hard time poo-ing when I'm not familiar with the surroundings.  The same thing happens whenever there's too much commotion around me.  Like when there are guests coming over for dinner or when my daughter's having her playdates (picture little people running around the house screaming and shouting).  Also included in my blacklist are public restrooms, where the toilet cubicles are surrounded by walls that are not completely enclosed.  You know those "neither here nor there" partitions that are supposed to give you a sense of privacy?  Privacy my arse. Having to smell other people's shit on top of yours does not qualify as privacy in my dictionary.  Second, doing my business while having to hold my breath at the same time is just plain wrong.  It contradicts the law of nature, not to mention detrimental to your state of consciousness.

Another thing I probably should mention, is that last year, my 5 year-old daughter had to memorize lyrics to the song "I'll Stand By You" (by the Pretenders) for her school's Christmas performance.  I had her practiced that song enough to know that she had most of the lyrics memorized.


So with those little trivias in mind, I begin my story.  Let me warn you, it's a story that involves a lot of shit. 

Sometime last year, our family went on a holiday in Bali.  For those of you who'd been there, you would know that Balinese people are well-known for being polite and hospitable.  We were staying at our favorite hotel, the one we always stayed in whenever we visited the island.  Familiar with the hotel layout and room setting already, I was able to relax immediately after we finished unpacking.  I remembered the day as being a bit too hot for my liking, so I opted to stay in our room with my daughter while my husband went down to sunbathe by the pool.

Sensing the peaceful tranquility all around me, my rowdy husband out by the pool, it didn't take long before I felt the first stirrings of nature calling in my tummy.  Not wanting to lose the momentum, I quickly set out to prepare my pre-flux routine without delay:

• one or two tabloid magazines to entertain myself while I'm doing my #2 (checked).
• my blackberry, on silent mode (checked).  We don't want any sudden outbursts of my Eminem ringer to muck up my bowel movements now, do we?
• liquid soap and a 3 liter plastic bottle filled up with water for me to wash up afterward (checked).
• TV set on Disney channel to ensure no mid-poo interruptions from daughter (checked)
• yummy snacks for my little one to munch on while watching TV (checked)
• a small plastic cup of water for her (checked). 
• lock entrance and patio doors (checked)
• windows all closed and secured (checked)

I proceeded to prop my daughter, who was five years old at the time, comfortably on the sofa bed, her snack and water cup well within her grasp, making sure she had the best unhindered view of Disney Channel from where she's sitting.  Finally, I informed my daughter that Mommy had some "business to attend to" in the bathroom, so please do not--I repeat, do NOT--interrupt, barge in, or come within ten paces of the bathroom door unless there is a real emergency.  By now she's only too happy to obliged, her eyes already glued to the TV screen.

(Please continue to Part 2)

Hurrayyy! It's My First (Ever) Blog Award

Have you ever seen one of Patek Philippe's "Generations" Ad Campaigns?  My husband totally bought the whole father-son, mother-daughter marketing gimmick, getting teary-eyed whenever he came across one of those ads.  As for me, I'm mostly waiting for my husband to move on from just getting teary-eyed, to actually GETTING the watch for my birthday present.  So far, I'm still waiting.  Anyway, the ads always have this message written on them: "You never actually own a Patek Philippe.  You merely look after it for the next generation."  


Which brings me to this happy news.  I won an award today!!!  It's called the Versatile Blogger award!  Whoever created the Versatile Blogger award must have been inspired by those Patek Philippe's ads, because later on, I found out that this award was "passed" to me so that afterward I can pass it again to other blogs I've recently discovered.  This is what it looks like:

Fittingly, this Versatile Blogger Award was given to me by a VERY versatile blogger herself.  One whose daily accomplishments alone equals to my 5 year-plans.  She is a new, yet already dear-to-my-heart, mommy blogger named Janice.

In her blog "The (not so) Special Mother," she writes her life as a wife, a mother of two, and a granddaughter.  She is also a homeschool mom, a mother to a special-needs child, and a primary caregiver to her disabled sister.  If that wasn't enough to put me to shame, she still has time to go hiking, camping, traveling, and dining out, and reads literature and poetry.  Oh, and I have a feeling that one day she will somehow find a way to resume her studies in Wildlife Biology and finished her degree.

So why the heck did someone like Janice passed the Versatile Blogger award to me?  Beats me.  But I AM happy to have this award, and I AM glad that (at least) Janice thinks I deserve it.  Coming from someone like her, hell yeah, I'm proud to be called a Versatile Blogger!  If you haven't gotten the chance to know Janice, please visit her blog "The (not so) Special Mother."  She really is a living, breathing Supermom!

Since it is now my turn to pass on "the Versatile Blogger" award, I'm also passing the rules for accepting this award:

• Thank the person who gave you the award and link back to their site in your original post.
• Tell us seven things about yourself.
• Pass along the award to fifteen newly discovered bloggers.
• Contact these bloggers and let them know they got this award.

So here are my seven things that I would never have told you if it weren't because I'm greedy and I wanted this award!!!

1. I was named after a former empress who went into exile in 1979.  So yeah, as far as first role models go, I'm pretty much doomed from the start.
2. I used to wear prescription glasses up to five years ago, when a lasik surgery cured me of my near-sightedness, but not my nerdiness.
3. I love romance stories where the hero is good looking, yet the heroine is not.  You can call me a traitor to feminism all you want, but I like the idea that even if you're less than average in the looks department, you still have a shot at nailing a Brad Pitt-lookalike.
4. I was still in another relationship when I started dating my husband. OMG I can't believe I just told you that! I've managed to keep that little fact from my husband all these years! 
5. I have botanophobia (fear of plants).  The thought of touching them freaks me out, and I absolutely cannot eat or drink next to one.
6. On the night before my wedding day, my bridezilla-ness hit a new, all time record-breaking high.  My wedding planner decided she's had enough and finally knocked me out with a handful of valiums.
7. I drool while I sleep. Bucketful. No kidding.

And hereby I am passing the Versatile Blogger award to the following 15 blogs, obviously for this reason:  They're AWESOME!

1. Partly Sunny, Chance of Rain Tammy is the genius behind World's Worst Mom, a blog where you can read about other moms' less-than-perfect moments and feel better about yourself.  It's like free therapy!!
2. My 3 Little Birds  Her posts are always interesting and very insightful.
3. Moms in Venting  I love Glynis.  Her blog makes venting so much fun! 
4. Manic Mother  I will always be grateful to her.  I learned a lot about blogging just from reading her blog.
5. Two Kids and a Fish  A mother with a BIG heart.  Read her post My Kid's Best Friend is a Psychic.  I cried reading that post.
6. Single Dad Laughing  I never thought I'd say this, but this is one Dad who's doing a much better job at being a mom than me.
7. My Mummy Daze  I consider her blog my "next-door-mom" blog.  She blogs about stuff that I've always wanted to blog about.
8. Danielle Moss//The Blog  I love her designs... she's my web designer who had to deal with the worst sides of me (like changing my mind for like the thousandth time), and yet is still willing to help out. 
9. Momalog I always enjoyed reading Ado's posts... She writes so well (and I notice, so fast!).  Her posts always have the right mix of insight, humor, and candor.
10. Whimsy and Whirl by Tenesia  I've never met Tenesia in person, but I have a feeling that if I ever need a partner in crime, this is one mommy who's not gonna let me down.
11. Thoughts from this Mom... When you read her blog, you just can't help but like her!
12. 1 FUNKY WOMAN  Yes, I think she's one funky woman. A very wholesome blog. One thing though, until now I still don't know how to turn the background music she has on--not because I don't like it, but because I can't listen to music and read other people's blog at the same time. **UPDATE: Megan was sweet enough to send me a user-friendly instruction on how to turn off the music on her blog. So now I'm an expert on how to turn her blog's music on and off.  Thanks, Megan!
13. Absolutely Narcissism I absolutely love her narcissism!  Her posts are hilarious.
14. Mrs. No-No Knows This highly creative mommy's posts always make me: 1) hungry; 2) wish I can cook; 3) hope that my husband never finds out that there is such a wife as Mrs. No-No.
15. Sanity's Overrated A fellow book lover who writes beautifully and honestly about her family and the many facets of herself. 

Hurray to me!  And now I'm gonna be spending the next few hours contacting each one of the 15 blog owners I mentioned above...  

World's Worst Mom #100 Part 2

If you haven't, please read  Part 1 first

With gratitude to World's Worst Moms, who has given mommies with deficient parenting qualities, such as me, the chance to shine.

To my dear 6yr-old daughter,  here are 100 37* reasons why your mommy is the World's Worst Mom:

1. I secretly think that if only you look more like me instead of your daddy, you'd be a better looking kid.
2. Do you remember those times when I said I was BUSY? I was busy online shopping.
3. I keep the best chocolate cookies hidden in my closet so I don't have to share them with you (or daddy). 
4. The other day, when we were both walking and it suddenly rained, I quickly fumbled to open my umbrella, not because I was afraid you'd get wet, but because I didn't want to ruin my newly purchased handbag.
5. I want you to love me more than you love Daddy.
6. When you were 5 months old, I fed you bitter gourd to stop you from sucking your little fingers.
7. Whenever I don't want you to eat something, I lied and told you it's allergic and it will give you an itchy rash. 
8. I searched the net for pictures of the worst dental cavities ever and told you that's what's gonna happen when you don't brush your teeth at least twice a day.
9. I refused to take turns and listen to your choice of songs in the car.  I just couldn't listen to "All the Single Ladies" from the Chipmunks 2 anymore.  In fact, if the CD went missing one day in the very near future, that's probably because your mommy smashed it to pieces and hide the evidence.
10. I was so happy when you're at that age when you were so eager to help out because now I have you to fetch me stuff whenever I was too lazy to lift my butt off the couch.
11. I lied when I told you, "I'm sorry honey, but your friend from school could not have that playdate with you.  Her mom said she had something planned that weekend."  First, I never asked her mom.  Second, I simply wasn't in the mood to have to clean up after one extra child. 
12. I forgot my promises to you because when I made them, I was checking out my friends' facebook stats on my blackberry
13. When you asked me questions, and I answered them, half the time I didn't know what I'm talking about. 
14. I pretended to be deaf  whenever you ask me questions that would require long explanations.  That's because I'm just too lazy to explain, and why I'm willing to pay $$$ for your schooling.  So that somebody else can answer your questions.
15. I never volunteer to do anything in your class because I don't like your homeroom mom and I think she's annoying and I can't stand her guts.
16. I was determined to make you wear that itchy christmas dress--not once, but as many times as possible--because I thought you looked so cute in it and I wanted to make sure I've got my value for money.
17. Same reason why I made you wear that Halloween costume for at least one whole day.
18. Sometimes I make up rules for you to follow just because I can.  Hey, I'm your mother!.
19. For the last six years, I've been blaming you, not my sweet tooth, for the state of my current waistline.
20. Every night, when it's time to read you a bedtime story, I covertly glance at the book you've picked.  If it has small fonts and more than 8 pages long, it's Daddy's turn.
21. I really, really hate your super active bowel movements.  How could such a small person produce so much crap?  Believe me I tried, but the smell of your poop... it's honestly a smell not even a mother could love.
22. You're my favorite go-to excuse for canceling my appointments at the last minute: "I'm really sorry, I was just about to leave when my little girl decided to throw a fit right now.  Yes, in fact the little monster's gnawing on my left leg as we speak."
23. I made you drink that extra glass of milk because I was having too much fun at the mall and then realize it's 4pm and I've forgotten to feed you lunch.
24. I let you play with my Itouch so you would forget that mommy forgot to feed you lunch.  Right up til I can fix you that extra glass of milk.  Then it's back to "What did I say?  No electronic games."
25. That one time (fine, fine! a few times!) I really, really needed some small change. So I stole some from your piggy bank.
26. I told you that Santa and Tooth Fairy are NOT real.  You were 3 years old.
27. I always bought your birthday and christmas presents at the last minute because that's usually when I remembered them.  Which was why when mommy went to the toy store, things were out of stock and most likely you ended up with something entirely different that what you've wanted.
28. While helping you with your homework, there were times when I thought, "God, she's cute but why is she SO dense?" 
29. I stopped you in the middle of your favorite cartoon when I found out that RPattz (a.k.a. Edward Cullen) was on another channel.  Sorry baby girl, but Robert beats Phineas and Ferb anytime.
30. I almost took you to watch Twilight because nobody else wanted to watch it for the 5th time with me in the theaters.  Daddy had to remind me that the movie was PG-13, and that you were only 4 yrs old at the time.
31. I told your daddy: no dating until she's 18yrs old and forget about marriage until she's at least 30!  To which he replied, yeah, before you know it she'll be 45, still not dating, then what would you do? I told him, what's wrong with that? Sick, I know.
32. I sat you down for a serious mother-daughter talk on "why little kids cannot have boyfriends."  This time, you were 5 yrs old.
33. Then there's THAT Disneyland thingy.
34. I didn't correct you when you mispronounced frog "fug, fug!" because I thought that was hilarious.
35. Remember when I thought I could teach you how to swim, without professional help?  It began with a very positive, "You can do it, sweetie!"  and less than 15 minutes later you were bawling your eyes out, refusing to let go of the sidebar with me yelling, "If you don't get down here right now, young lady, you can kiss your dessert goodbye!!!"
36. I made you sit absolutely still for 1.5 hours, with your head fixed to one side, all because I wanted to practice my french braiding skills.  "But I don't want my hair braided, Mommy..."  Trust me, you do.
37. Because in every single time that I've listed above, not once did you ever deserve what your mommy did to you.

Let me end this post by saying, that by some miracle, this World's Worst Mommy #100 is blessed with the most kind-hearted, forgiving, and amazing 6 yr-old daughter a mother could ever wish for.  I'm not joking when I say she has never ever thrown a tantrum, gotten angry, or disobeyed her mommy.  Instead, in every one of my world's worst mom moment, she has never once hold a grudge, always forgiving, and ever ready to give her mommy the biggest smile and hug a 6 year-old little girl could give.  

*Originally, my intention was to write 100, instead of the meager 37 reasons, to commemorate World's Worst Mom's "Big One Hundred."  As you could probably predict, my fixation with even numbers, my secret desire to always be remembered as THE number 100, coupled with my compulsion to sweat the small stuff, make for one heck of a recipe for disaster.

By the time I got to the 37th reason, I was tired, grumpy, and no longer enjoying writing this post.  In other word, it was quickly turning into a World's Worst Mom moment all on its own.  I found myself wishing I was the 37th follower instead of the big 100th; that way, my 37 reasons would be perfect wouldn't it?

Anyhow... boy am I glad to have finished this post!  One thing I've learned from writing about my own worst mom moments is that it honestly sucks. big time.  Which leads to my second discovery: once you've read other moms' worst moments, yours suddenly don't seem so bad anymore. Here's to World's Worst Moms hitting the big one hundred!  And for all the moms here, whose inadequacies and failures are helping others feel better about themselves!  A big LOL to all of us!

World's Worst Mom #100 Part 1

This is a post I wrote for the World's Worst Moms, who hit 100 followers last week.  For you who haven't heard or not familiar with the blog, I urge you to check it out.  It's a place where civilian mommies like us can write about our not-so-fine moments, or read about others' better-forgotten moments.  Either way, the site is guaranteed to make you feel better about yourself, be it simply from having vented out your frustrations in words, or just from realizing that yes you suck, but at least you're not the suckiest.   

The jury's still out on whether or not it's a sign of luck, or that in fact I'm running out of luck, but whatever it was, I happened to be World's Worst Mom's follower number 100.  So in the spirit of hitting the Big One Hundred, I decided to submit a post about why I'm a World's Worst Mom. Hopefully, after reading it, you'll realize that you're not so bad after all.  In other words, yes, I know I suck. Big Time.

Please continue to Part 2

The Lament of a Newbie Blogger

Forget about my husband's face being the first thing I see in the morning or the last thing I see before I go to sleep at night.  Instead, my new blog has recently been my pride and joy, to whom I say my first good morning and last good night to.

When I woke up this morning, with my morning breath and eye crusts still intact, I quickly hopped to my computer.  As I waited for my computer to spur to life, my mind was already mentally picking petals off one big imaginary daisy.     

They like me.  They like me not.
They like me.  They like me not...
Of course they like me... 
No they do not.
Yes they do, dammit!
... Not.
And on and on it went.

I typed in my blog's address.  My sight already zooming in on the followers bar. 

23 followers.

It was also 23 followers three days ago.

Sensing the anal retentive side of me coming, my alter-ego quickly came to my defense:  "At least the number stays the same.  Could've been a lot worse, y'know."  I smiled, appeased by the thought. 

Not for long.
This time, it's my OCD side checking in:  "Go on, look at the page views.  Maybe some more people read your blog.  They just didn't know how to click on the follow button."  I admit that was a bit too desperate.  I mean, how hard can it be to place a finger and click?  But hey, can't really blame the OCD side for trying.

577 views.
It was 577 last time I checked.
9 hours ago.

Uh oh. My namaste moment ended right there. 
Holy Hucking Fell, does this means absolutely no one read my blog during those nine hours?  As in like, NOT A SINGLE PERSON in this Whole Wide World dot com???  Was the internet globally down last night?  Maybe Blogger took its system down for maintenance purposes?  Is it a lack of exposure?  Could it be I'm not in any of the blog hops and so the many blogs conspired to boot me out?  Did I offend anyone?  Maybe it's time I start begging?  Retweet more?  Ask my husband to make it mandatory for his staff to follow my blog?  Post a naked pic of some male model and pretend I'm him?  That might work with the mommy bloggers, wouldn't it?  Am I pathetic?  Yes I am pathetic.  Oh God, that must be it! I AM pathetic and nobody likes me.  My blog sucks and I should just end my stint as a blogger right now.
Note to friends: does this look like someone who'd appreciate another Don't Sweat book this year? I think not.  

"Mommy?  Are you awake?" came a little voice through the slightly opened door.

"Yes, sweetheart. Come in and give Mommy a big good morning hug," I replied.

"Good morning!" said my daughter as she threw her small arms around my waist. "I love you, Mommy."  

I squeezed her tight and kissed the top of her hair.  Here, in my arms, I've found my little follower--the only one that mattered most.

Suddenly those numbers on the screen ceased to be of consequence.  I logged off, turned off my computer, and gave my little girl my 100% attention.