The D Spot

“Twas my best Christmas—ever!”

That was what I was told—by at least 5 of my 7 children (Monica, BA, Chato, Pau and Peanut—Alan, Jr). For a parent who has been so busy the past few days, up to the time Christmas was down the corner a few hours away, hearing those words struck a soft chord in my heart, that I was almost cryful.

I then realized that after all, despite the difference in parenting style by me and hubby, we have raised our children pretty well. The road might not have been always smooth along our 28 years of parenting, there have been humps and bumps in between, but all in all, it seems that we were fine, we are doing fine, and we will continue to be fine, simply because we have placed God in the center of our lives, a God who is not feared, but a God who is perceived to be loving, understanding and forgiving. This has nothing to do at all with being religious—no, I am as guilty as some of my children in sleeping it through while praying the Rosary, and my going to church daily is not out of any obligation, but out of devotion.

This Christmas, I have proven to myself that, at least in my family, materialism is not all that matters, even on Christmas Day. This year has been a lot different from the past years, when what was in mind were presents, presents and presents, spending, spending and spending, when Christmas was such a dip and a drain in the pocket such that come January, February or so, it was paying bills to no end.

I thought I was at fault, missing out on the usual activities like Christmas shopping and partying, but I never heard any complaint from my kids. They went to school activities and parties, I waited on them in the evenings, and finally it dawned on me that a few hours to Christmas I was still doing some work, and we haven’t even planned what was for Christmas dinner—for Noche Buena, the traditional time when families come together for a meal. At 10 am BA drove us to to Landmark, and we bought food and groceries and gifts for the babies—Pia and Cate.

Mass at UP Church and Noche Buena

We were off to UP for the 10 pm Mass, lucky to have found monobloc chairs in a corner and listened to an interesting sermon. Mass at UP is refreshing, thought provoking, and yes, meaningful. Then home for the Noche Buena—meaning a good meal. Earlier, Monica whipped up pesto pasta (fresh basil has been out of stock, she used the imported bottled one), Chato prepared the fruit salad, Alan Jr, the youngest, waited on instructions, while Pau entertained us on the piano. BA mixed the drinks, I don’t remember what Vince did (lol—he is always either busy with his social activities or sleeping, but he can be relied on for driving errands). And I, mom, cooked ham. Everyone was saying that the ham was delicious, mind you, it was a pre-cooked ham, I just heated it by frying it while mixing the glaze. Now I know! They haven’t seen me cook in years. That was what made the difference—mom in the kitchen. I can count with less than my 10 fingers how many times I cooked during the past 28 years.

Noche Buena was fun, it was just us—the 6 kids, me and hubby, who this time (the kids noticed) stayed through more than an hour before sleep finally claimed him. Angelo and family were with his in-laws. The kids never ran out of stories to tell and things to do. By 2 am, some of them have gone to their rooms going online, YM, plurking, multiply, whatever.

They were happy, I was happy. I heard Monica singing happily a Christmas song from her room—truly this is her happiest Christmas. By 3 am, Pau and I were still eating (lol) while I was just watching her doing multiply. In between it was just merry laughter, laughing to death with what her siblings call meaningless chatter, but Pau and I do understand each other.

Christmas Day

Sleeping during the day on weekends and holidays is normal to the kids, but waking up at 10 am then going back to sleep till noon was luxury to me. I would have slept more had we not promised hubby’s brother that we would join them to lunch. It was also just them, family. Karaoke was fun, as people in every country I went to would observe—you are not Filipino if you do not sing or dance. I don’t, but I can at least sing, if I need to. The theater people my kids are, they got top scores and won most of every price—money, shoes, make up, shirts, etc. They don’t like Extreme Magic SIng, they said, as it gives a real time score, when toward the end of the song, the score goes lower such that you would want to sing much better to bring the score higher up till the end. They would rather have the score at the end of the song. Baloney! It is better, I rebutted, and I guess they agree.

We went home happy, munching on chocolates. I tried to go online, but I felt sick, I went to Chato’s and Pau’s room, turned air conditioning to the maximum, wanted to curl in a ball, I was almost crying. I had upper abdominal discomfort, not really pain, but a discomfort I never experienced before, that the girls were very worried. They noticed that at lunch, I have not really eaten much, even snobbed my favorite desserts. They searched the Internet, Monica tried to do what her doctors did to her when she had an appendectomy 2 Christmases ago—we ended up laughing.  Maalox did the magic, I was up and about by 6:30 pm, we went for another Christmas Mass at 7 pm. I offered my second Christmas Mass for another intention.

My happiest Christmas ever, promise po!

We brought BA and hubby home, then happily hit the road again to bring Monica to Lucky’s home. We just wanted to be together. While in the car, Chato was embracing me, saying, “Mom, this is my happiest Christmas ever, promise po!” And the others agreed, especially Monica, who has the most difficult criteria for happiness.  I didn’t know what the kids had for dinner, because I slept—a contented mom, a happy mom.

And woke up at past midnight for another bonding time with these night owls. I sat with Vince, he was online, BA said his good night. Vince was happy I heeded his request for pancit canton. He reminisced the time he asked me to cook pancit canton, which I served in a bowl (with water), when I cooked another one after he called my attention that for pancit canton water had to be drained, the second bowl was still served the same way—with water. This time, I did it right.

Yes, for me, this is my best Christmas ever, the happiest, too, centered on Him and family! My heart is overflowing with love and happiness.

I hope yours is, too!

Related Posts

• The Oscars 2010--a night of many firsts
• Happy International Women's Day (2010)
• …and literally and figuratively--I have stopped and smelled the flowers!
• Arnel Pineda in Eastwood Mall on New Year's Eve
• Happy Birthday to a "Special Someone"
• Red Ribbon's Chocolate Walnut Fudge
• A Christmas Message (by Fr. Larry Faraon): Something divine in a baby…