Athena's Demitasse

A demitasse is a small cup of black coffee. I only need one to fuel my thoughts, two to make me babble until the wee hours, three to make my left eye twitch and four... (You wouldn't want to know...)

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Sofia Slapped Me With The Truth Behind Tooth Fairies (Or the Lack of Truth in it?)

Last night Sofia lost her first ever milk tooth (a bit too early than usual), it was such a brave act for her to do the pulling. Dad did most of the pep, while I tried to distract myself from it all. I have low resistance to the sight of blood, so there - a major contradiction with my high tolerance with pain.

They both rushed to me, as soon as the tooth was taken off. And I hinted Dad on “how much the Tooth Fairy would give in exchange of the lil' tooth". Sofia just stared blankly, seemingly incognizance of what we were talking about. Since Dad was assigned as the In-House Tooth Fairy, he asked Sofia what she wants to buy so he'll have an idea on how much he needs to sneak under the pillow in the morning. Sofia answered, "I want to buy apples." Dad asked why, and Sofia answered with a simple, "I like apples". Dad asked me if we missed buying apples during the biweekly trip to the supermarket. And I said we forgot to get some because we were then beating the time before it closes.

"Maybe the fairy would give you 50 dollars, so you can get yourself a new bike," I overheard Dad said. (The kids think of money in terms of dollars, so it is such an effort on my part to do quick conversions.) "Maybe," Sofia answered as she inspected her smile in the mirror with the new one-less-tooth set of lower incisors.

This morning, Sofia showed her "new" smile to her younger brother, Luis, who shrieked in horror at the sight. Both the kids have been obsessively conscious of their teeth since they started to have one. I remember that I patiently brushed their first tooth when they're still babies until they learned to do the 20-up, 20-down, 20-left, 20-right, 20-circles- all-around brushing system by themselves.

I asked her how much she got from the Tooth Fairy. And she said none. She said she kept the tooth hidden somewhere (where nobody can find it, like what they did with my phone a few weeks back).

I felt a bit baffle, most kids would jump at the idea that they'd get a toy upgrade in exchange for that single tooth.

"What about the Tooth Fairy? He'd be looking all over for that tooth!" I asked jokingly.

"Come on, Maggie. What Tooth Fairy? This is the City. Tooth Fairies are only shown on TV!" She was almost impatient as she said this - maybe annoyed by the fact that since last night we have been feeding her "the illusion of the existence of fairies" - i.e. Tooth Fairy. (Yes. The kids call me by my first name.)

I was half laughing and half pale from the way she reacted. This four-year old girl snapped and tried to stop me from giving her illusions that most parents are unaware and guilty of passing on to their children. I never got the chance to compose my thoughts to reply to what she had just said; instead we focused on practicing her whistling ability - which she said was affected by the tooth loss. I had to reassure her that her whistling is still as perfect as it used to and that she should not worry about it. Luis, on the other hand, kept touching his teeth - it made me think that he might be talking to them not to leave him just yet. He had a not-ready-for-that-toothless-grin look all over his face. I told both of them that tooth loss was part of growing up, milk teeth go to give way to permanent ones, and that they shouldn't worry much since after a year or two it’ll grow anew.

Later, I began thinking - should I be glad that we have brought the kids up in such a way that they are ripped off of any 'childish realities' - fairies, Santa, etc.? It was easier to make them believe the story of St. Nicholas, than the Santa that most kids believe in. (Where the heck would we find a chimney for him to fit in on Christmas Eve?) As I was growing up, I appreciated more the gifts I got from Mama because I knew how hard she worked for it - and not because it was from Santa. For me then, it was easier to understand that she was the one who truly knew if we we're naughty or nice, than the one in North Pole who had billions of children to attend to.

Or should I worry that they might have missed the 'magic' of being children from their exposure to too much reality? In reflection to my own childhood, I didn't miss any of those. I just grew up to be more insensitive to other people's feelings and tactless - especially to those who need a beating to wake up from their daydreams; and disturbingly too realistic (as Dad would put it).

The rule in our house is simple: When the kids ask, you give them the most truthful answer. In that instance, I have forgotten that rule, and I'm mighty glad Sofia was brave enough to stand up.

Labels: , ,

Monday, February 12, 2007

Too much coffee + Bullshits = Brain Working Overtime

Over the weekend, the Carpenter's song, Breaking Up Is Hard To Do, has been stuck in my mind. Parang sirang plaka na paulit-ulit ang tugtog. And whatever I do, I can't get it off my head.

The last time I heard it play was in June, when I went to Bikol for two weeks. The only radio station in our town plays most songs of the oldies which will bring you way back to the days when your mother wasn't even born yet. It was a relief somehow that they do not feed you with so much advertisements like radio stations in Manila. The ads for local establishments are even more entertaining. Take this for example. An ad for a Manila-Bikol-bound bus company named C.U.L. goes: "C.U.L. CUL Ang lamig..." (Did they mean cool here, as an aesthetic of behaviour or low temperature? I tried to recall a few times years ago when I took that bus home. It was neither cul to be on the bus nor culd.)

No. I don't miss going home so much. I miss Ruth, Margot and Yuan - in that particular order. And the idea of lying around on the beach from dawn to dusk without being too conscious of smelling like u-ga after. In Gubat, nobody cares what you smell like. Nobody knows you as you are nor would they care knowing who you have become. They will only remember that Ruth's youngest daughter (who got her name involved with the Theatre teacher, who used to go to this school, who went home several times with her boyfriend, who ended up with someone else, who had two kids, and so on...) walked around town smelling like half a dried fish and half a rotten rat. (If you get lucky, they'd even mistake you for someone else.)

Tonight, I realized the reason for everything. It was a reminder of something that needs to get done that I've been postponing for several days - for a few, but very important reasons.

I have to let go.

Middle of last year, I was informed of a project and instantly committed myself to it. For months, the project remained unclear, the release of funding was unknown, and the workload was undefined. But I was filled with so much enthusiasm to finally get a chance to "go back" with the work that I have seen myself doing since age nine and the source of passion for staying in this field. My mind (and heart - if I still have one) was totally set on it.

This month, I received an email that the project's funding came in and we are to start soon. I started planning: relocating somewhere North, letting the kids stay with Ruth in Bikol, etc. I gave up other gigs for this. It was worth it then - career wise.

On the day I was called to attend a meeting for the project, I received a message that my involvement with the project has been shortened. The reason: it was rumored that I've been using drugs. Later as I gave it some thinking, it was better learning about this through text. I am extremely awful at concealing how I feel. I suck at anger management. The 'nice' people at the department has been really 'concerned' that my alleged drug dependency will be a problem (and I presume that they too noted that I will deny everything).

Initially, I called 'Papay' for backup and formulated a fool-proof offense-defense strategy.

I did not DENY. I said matter of factly that I am not and has never been a druggie. (Initially, in my head I did an inventory of prescription drugs I take and thought of mentioning them. But that would be way too pathetic which will only make me lower than the dirt that they want me to be.) Tama si Papay. Sa giyera, hindi impulse ang umuubra. Mahalagang planuhin ang pagtira.

I hardly get affected by rumors. Sabi nga nila, mas kilala mo ang sarili mo kaysa iba. So why am I bothering? I find it hard taking this one, laughing it off and doing nothing. I have been so passive on a lot of rumors maliciously spread against me. As Allan Tanga would put it: 'Paki ba nila? 'Tangina. Right. Who cares if there's no truth in it?

But I do. The issue has put me in a place where I have to constantly defend myself over a walang kuwentang kuwento which will later affect my work - and my sanity.

So I finally decided to let it go and give it up, but it was a graceful exit. Hindi lamang pagkandirit paalis ang ginawa ko, kundi ang pagpapatunay na hindi ang mismong tsismis ang tuminag sa pag-alab ko sa trabaho kundi ang ideya na ang madaliang paniniwala ng iba sa tsismis ay hindi nararapat na basehan ng iyong pagtingin sa ibang tao.

Tssssss. Foul.

The end of my 10-minute fame.

***

And after busting my head from thinking too much:

Rumors has been an essential part of culture. It serves as a guard for people's actions to maintain social order, but it does not assure the prevention of chaos as a result of it. After all, there are instances when rumors start to make people crazy in lots of ways you can think of. It surely has made Ms. Morales slap Mr. Manotoc in the first place, di ba? Rumors - or the fear of being tangled in one, puts people in their 'right' places. (Whose 'right' is it? Ahaha.)

In Math, the intensity of spreading rumors can be explained through exponential growth. Imagine doing this experiment, you tell a friend something fictional. Let's say, that you were going to star in the next Pitt's movie. (Eeeew.) But you have to make him/ her promise not to tell anyone yet until you start filming. But Friend 1 gets excited and tells two more friends. And so on. The number of people who know doubles everytime the rumor is passed. After 33 passes, 8.5 billion people will know. (HILAKBOT! Sikat ka ng bigla. Ang saya pala!) That's how movies are promoted anyway.


***

POOF.

Hence, the title...