Growing up picture



Ten years from now my boys will not be as cute as they are now. I wish they will be kids forever. But life has to take its course. They will grow up. Find their own wives. Leave the house. Build their own families. Have their own children and probably say the same things I saying now.

Treasure at the Dental Clinic

We accompanied Juancho, our two and a half year old kid, to his dentist last week after a freak accident led the dentist to recommend the immediate extraction of Juancho's two front teeth. While we were waiting for things to be ready for the extraction, we chanced upon a great children's book by David M. McPhail aptly titled, "The Bear's Toothache" on the dentist's book shelf.

The book, richly illustrated by the author, is about a boy who cannot not go to sleep. He finds a bear with a toothache outside his window and lets him in. What follows is a hilarious sequence as the boy proceeds to help the bear remove the aching tooth. They raid the refrigerator and knock over a lamp that sends the father to the room to investigate. Still sleepy, Dad doesn't see the bear hiding under the bed. Finally, the bear jumps off the window ledge with a rope tied around the tooth. The scheme is a success and the bear leaves the tooth to the boy for him to keep under his pillow. What a riot.

After reading the book, we laughed aloud with Juancho who by that time was all set for his own adventure with the dentist.

Toilet Training by Fantasy

This morning I discovered a good way to motivate Juancho, my two-and-a-half year old kid, to use the toilet when making pooh pooh. In the past, we've done everything to make sure he goes to the potty before he drops his morning bombs. We talked to him, cajoled him, shouted at him, even threatened him with castration. My wife found a less violent way by reading him a book about Dori, the good boy who goes to the potty. It worked for a while but he soon went back to his old habit of doing it anywhere.

This morning was a revelation. He woke me up and asked me to read him a book. Since I haven't put on my contact lenses yet, I couldn't possibly read him a book so I told him I would just tell him a story. He engagingly obliged. Unfortunately, my mind was blank. I waited for spontaneous inspiration to set in until I thought of the working title: Juancho Goes to the Moon.

The title is the story. Thus, I knew then that the plot is simple. He rides a rocket, goes to the moon, and goes back. To improve upon it, I knew I had to render a little flourish, put on a little detail on the rocket ride, set him up with an alien and then bring him back to earth. The end. But where do I start? Blank. Then it popped: the toilet.

So my introduction goes: Juancho stepped into the toilet and made wee wee and then made pooh pooh and then began putting on his astronaut gear, his astronaut boots, his astronaut gloves, and then he stepped into the rocket and the announcer said Juancho is about to depart and began counting 10, 9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1, 0 blast off!

Okay so off went Juancho. Juancho held on to the steering wheel and pushed buttons here and there and then he marveled at the sky. Then Juanco's rocket circled the moon, once , twice, then landed softly on the surface and then Juancho got out of the rocket, got some soil samples, hopped and hopped, and then he met Eeek Eeek the alien who had nothing to say but eek eek. So, Juancho went back to the rocket and went back to earth. The end.

Okay, I know that's going to get a sure F in any class on creative writing. But Juancho liked it. He asked for another story. So I said okay the next story is Juancho Goes Back to the Moon -- same plot, same ending and same beginning. I guess he liked the part on riding the rocket so much since he didn't mind. Juancho goes to the toilet, makes wee wee and pooh pooh and puts on his astronaut suit, astronaut gloves, astronauts boots etc. Then he lands on the moon and talks to Eeek Eeek who still had nothing to say but eek eek. So he said don't you have anything to say but eek eeek? Then Eeek Eeek answered "of course.". So Juancho goes back to earth because he can't talk to Eeek Eeek. The End

Juancho laughed and asked for another story. So I said okay Juancho Goes to the Moon part III. Just then he stood up and said, "Tatay I'm going to the potty and make pooh pooh and go to the moon afterwards." It was that easy. No threats to cut off his birdie. Quickly, I jumped out of bed and brought him to the potty.

So what do you think? I hope it works again tomorrow when Juancho Goes to the Moon Part IV.

Ways to Help Avoid a Clash Between the West and Islam
World Peace Day Message Outlines Strategies

A friend sent us through email the text of the above article which summarizes the Pope's World Peace Day Message for Jan. 2001
in which Pope John Paul II addressed the need to seek cooperation between cultures. In the text titled "Dialogue between cultures for a civilization of love and peace," the Pope recognized how difficult it is to maintain peace between people who have to live together, while coming from differing cultures. The message also spoke of the possibility of dangers due to migration leading to many people from different cultures and civilizations living close together and offers a number of pointers to help avoid conflicts between cultures.
The full text is found here. This made us wonder if we had listened hard enough to this message and lived it, the cultural conflicts that we are experiencing today could have been lessened.

"My father helped build the World Trade Center" -- an amazing personal story

"Best Laid Plans... An e-mail exchange with a World Trade Center architect". We chanced upon this story based on an email exchange between a father and son, the father having been on the team of architects who designed the World Trade Center. One of the very interesting points from the father goes like this,

"When we were designing the Project we were quite aware of the B-25 that had cracked into the Empire State Building during World War II. Of consequence, the towers were designed to accommodate the impact of a large jet passenger plane — this was pre-747. However we had no knowledge of the types of fuels and planes that would be used in this day and age."

War is what happens to actual people

Salon.com has an article about a book written by a Russian war journalist who reported on the Russian invasion of Afghanistan. As everyone knows, Russia lost that war and the Afghans proved to be resilient in those trying times. The author compares Russia's mis-adventures in Afghanistan with America's Vietnam. Thus, from the looks of it, the fight to knock down bin Laden by shooting at his support forces in Afghanistan will be as tough.

When Bush said "if you ar not for us, you are against us", I wonder if he was aware if his foot soldiers can make the distinction on the war grounds. One of the haunting images of the Russian War in Afghanistan mentioned in the book is that of a mother clutching the corpse of her baby who died several days earlier in a trip from Pakistan. She refused to let go of the child even if the corpse was already blue. If G.I. Joe happens to come across this lady in Afghanistan will he shoot her? Indeed, Bush's declaration is a fine example of political rhetoric that's good to hear when you're angry at the world but when you come down to your senses it really means nothing. After all, war is what happens to actual people who are fathers, mothers, brothers, or sisters of someone else. It is not the speech that the world heard and lauded, not the number of warheads at one's disposal, and not the blitzing rockets that fly to the sky. It is death -- certain and painful death of actual persons. It's tough talk for Bush, but tougher for his soldiers and for the people of Afghanistan caught in the middle.

As I try to make sense of the world after the September 11 attacks, the only meaningful voice I hear came from the good Pope who asked that we all pray that those who perished will be welcome in the gates of heaven.

A Father's Lament

People predict yesterday's events as the trigger to the Third World War in the same manner that the assasination of a Saragevo prince triggered the Second World War. In times like these, I look back at my life and reflect. Is it alright to go down this way? I've lived a full 31 years, had a happy childhood, was successful in school, work and love. I'll have no regrets if war comes now. In peace time, I've been thoroughly blessed. But I think of my kids and I worry.

Juancho is our two year old tyke. He's very smart and quite a looker. I'm sure he too will live a good life. My other boy is Hans. He is our one year old prince with the guts that will take him to places. I am amazed at how this boy's will power can manifest at such an early age. I know he will grow up to be leader. Yet, with the foreboding world calamity, what will happen to these boys?

In 1941, a few hours after the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, they attacked Clark Air Base in Pampanga, Philippines. In a matter of months, the Japanese successfully invaded the Philippines. What followed was a period that our grandparents called as "godless". If the historical parallels are drawn now, it is unnerving to think that war will come and disturb the bright and happy future that we have envisioned for our boys. What can a father do if fate decides to steal his children's future?

I found solace in remembering the words of the Pope in his book, "Be Not Afraid" when he said, there is nothing to be afraid about because God has conquered death. And death is the worse that can happen to any man. Indeed, war and attrition, if they do come, will be temporary. Yet my thoughts continue to hover between the absurdity and the meaningfullness of it all.

I guess there is nothing to do but pray. Ask that grace come to the world.