TOPAZ HORIZON

And it isn't because of my pregnancy. It's because I employed maids since August 2010, Vito's birth month. And the no-housework life has proved to be my body's undoing!

I haven't lived with a maid since I was 13 years old. So that's 20 years of doing everything myself. Even though I say I'm a cluttery person, that's really just in comparison to my ever-so-neat husband. I'm actually pretty clean! So the most difficult thing about parenthood for Vince and me so far had been the fact that we had to hire help. Mahirap makisama, right? Especially if you know how Vince and I are--we're not the sort who make pakisama, but for the past one year and three months, that's what we've been doing.

And now that's over and done with! The yaya and maid left abruptly last Friday. The yaya's eldest daughter abandoned her three kids last week and so yaya had to go home. Since she had no idea how and when that mess would be fixed, she resigned. The maid, who is yaya's niece, has a jealous husband and when he found out that the yaya won't be with the maid anymore, he ordered her to resign as well. So there!

(I'm digressing!)

So this weekend, Vince and I did all the chores--cooking, cleaning, washing up, the laundry--on top of taking care of the baby. Boy, are we tired! But I was surprised when I was doing the laundry and my arms started to hurt by the third article of clothing. The third! How flabby and weak I'd gotten! I used to do full loads of laundry, rinse and rinse again, hang dry, fold and iron, and no muscle ever complained! Well, my back muscles usually, from bending over and over the washing machine, but I'm used to household chores. Rather, I used to be. Now my whole body is screaming in pain!

So I guess I know now what my secret to being slim all these years is--housework! Twenty years of tidying up, scrubbing toilets, doing the laundry, ironing, running to the supermarket, cooking, dusting, polishing have helped keep me trim. And when I stopped doing the chores, my body got fat and flabby fast. I guess this means I better get off my ass then! It will be harder with a toddler and a baby on the way (on top of a career and blogging!) but I can do this!

Even when we do hire help again, I really have to stop depending on the maids. I just don't want this screaming-flabby-muscles thing to happen again. It's alarming actually. So until the new maids arrive, I'll get busy strengthening my body.

Meanwhile, I have a secret weapon: Vince! He's beyond fabulous when it comes to tidying up. There are huge benefits to having a husband who can't stand dirt and disarray and whose favorite thing to do is clean up! I sure am a lucky girl!

In one episode of HBO's truly magnificent gangster series Boardwalk Empire, a badly burned agent woke up in his hospital bed and told Agent Van Alden, "I see you. I know." Those cryptic declarations sent Van Alden in a whirl of panic. On paper, Van Alden was a God-fearing, laced-up, Bible verse-spouting Prohibition agent. Behind that facade, he's actually a lying, cheating, adulterous, murderous man. And when the burned agent said those words, "I see you. I know," he set off a chain of events that led to the guilty and frightened Van Alden's undoing.

There's this story I heard--and I don't know if it's true--that a long time ago, the writer Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, of Sherlock Holmes fame, played a simple practical joke on English society. Legend has it that he sent anonymous notes to the five most powerful families one morning with these words: "Your secret is out. Flee!" By that evening, the families have fled. Interesting, right?

What I'm driving at is the terrible secrets that we all seem to have. I've been mulling over this because of the whole Piolo-KC and Mo-Rhian thing. Piolo's supposed to be gay and Rhian's allegedly had at least one abortion. For a while there, I was as riveted as everyone but finally, I was just scratching my head. So what if he's gay? So what if she's had an abortion? I'm not saying I heartily approve, I'm just saying that we all have our secrets and too bad theirs came out.

KC and Piolo

Mo and Rhian

I will confess that I have no secrets. My life is an open book. I guess that's why I took to blogging so quickly. My mother always hated my indiscretion--that's her term--but I just don't see the point of hiding things. If you ask me a question, I will answer it. And never ever tell me your secret because I will not keep it. I won't spread it but if someone asks, I always find myself blurting it out with no guilt whatsoever. My friends have learned very quickly. They never tell me anything!

There is one secret I've only told my nearest and dearest but that's because it isn't my secret. It's a family secret--it isn't mine, it's someone else's. I don't see anything wrong about sharing it but my Mama made me promise not to blog about it. So I won't blog about it.

Other than that, I have nothing to hide. Yep, no sex tape (yet!). And I promise that if I do have a secret to confess tearfully on national TV, I will do so in a designer dress, with salon blowout hair and fabulous makeup! Well, maybe no mascara. Just kidding!

Seriously, there is such marvelous freedom and lightness and beauty at having absolutely no secrets! That doesn't mean I'm blameless and spotless. I've done things that would make you blush, that the absolutely conservative ones will frown upon and condemn. But I never hid them away. I always stood up for what I think is right, for what I am passionate about, so I've always talked about my life openly because I'm not ashamed of it. It's not perfect but I believe my life is very well thought out, very well planned, and very well lived. I have no deep, dark, dirty secrets--whatever dark or dirty deed I've done, it's all accounted for, confessed, forgiven. I am free!

So if you're young, please just don't let life happen to you. Take charge. If you've made mistakes, acknowledge them, take responsibility and move on. If you are doing something that you truly believe in is good and right but others don't understand, fight for it. If you had a nose job, boob job, don't lie and say you blossomed. You have to rid your life of the baggage of secrets! You have to stop living a life of lies and deceit and shame. Then you can avoid the disastrous scandals our local stars are wallowing in!

And on that note, I am done with local showbiz! I am much happier delving into the life of Hollywood celebrities. Not cleaner, not at all, but definitely less messy. There's something to be said about Hollywood's fierce publicity machine. It makes everything so fake but ain't it pretty?

I usually write about my family, my son especially, over at Topaz Mommy. I figured that since a lot of single girls with no kids read this blog, you wouldn't be interested. But it's Christmas and I just want to share a little escapade we had at Power Plant recently.

My cutie patooties! This family date was a couple of weeks ago. Since then, Vito had outgrown his uber cool adidas Star Wars Boba Fett shoes, Vince had had a haircut, and I have gotten even more preggy-looking!

Vito checking out the reindeer. Here he said, "Dede!" Funny boy. He doesn't breastfeed anymore--he weaned, on his own, when I got pregnant--but whenever he sees bare chests (men, women and, in this case, animal!), he chuckles and says, "Dede!"

Vito taking in the huge entrance of Toys R Us. I think that is the look of an overwhelmed little boy.

And this is us at Cibo Bimbi. We're trying our hand at coloring. I even bought a sketch book and big, toxic-free crayons after this. But it's a bad idea. I've put away the crayons for when he's a little older and understands that walls, sheets and floors aren't to be colored!

And here's my little boy trying out a plane ride at... you know, I have no idea what the name of that amusement place is. It's the one right beside Bimbi. Anyway, Vito's never been on a ride before and I thought he'd enjoy it...
He did. For two seconds. Then he got dizzy. Poor baby! But he's soooo cute even though he's dizzy!

And there you go! A tiny peek at a day in our life! As you can see, we don't really dress up, we don't bring yaya. I don't even put on makeup or brush my hair! We just have simple family fun. Well, we shop a lot. We used to shop a lot, before Vito. But he's such a handful now that there is just no way for us to go shopping! So we just play and eat and play and eat! That's about two hours then off for home. Life's gotten much simpler but more fun!

I've been blogging about the Loeffler Randall boots for a while now. I said I wanted them in last year and, finally, a few months ago, I finally bought a pair of rain boots and... I forgot to tell you about it!

I did take photos of when they arrived so these photos are old. My hair is still short and I'm not pregnant yet. Because I was also not very presentable (I didn't even brush my hair), I also got shy to post the photos so I forgot about the boots until the unseasonal rainy weather arrived!

Oh, and I apologize for the mess. My house is very orderly and clean thanks to my husband, Vince. But unfortunately for Vince, he married a messy and cluttery woman. The compromise we have is the rest of the house stays perfect but he gave me pockets that I can mess up--a corner here, a corner there. This is one of those corners!

Anyway! The unboxing!
The boots were ordered online from Loeffler Randall's shop. A few days later, Johnny Air texted to say I have a big box waiting at their Megamall office. So off I went! And yes, it was a BIG box.

I love that there was a personal, handwritten note from the staff! I mean, seriously, who does handwritten thank you notes from a high-end designer brand? Hmm, come to think of it, they should always include a note with your purchase since it makes it all the more special!

And here are my boots! Taupe rain boots that I super duper love!

I always do that to my skirt! I love pocketsy dresses, you see, but whenever people take my photo, I get giddy and do that to my skirt. It totally ruins the dress!

Have y'all seen Beyonce's "Dance for You" video? The song talks about how she wants to show her man some appreciation for all the wonderful things he's done for her and given her.


My unmarried friend Irish asked on Facebook, "Are wives expected to dance for their husbands?"

I replied, "Well, of course." (And I expect my husband to do a strip-tease for me, too!) "What wives aren't expected to do is bring sexy back-up dancers like Beyonce did!"

Hope you're having a sexy weekend, girls!