In the past, I’ve often felt like a vigilantly crusading autism mom. I wrote, I spoke, I breathed autism. But the last year has seen a definite change in how I view our world; despite all our attempts to reach out and open the world’s eyes to the most common kind of autism- the kind that has no savant skills, that wets the bed even beyond childhood, that rages, laughs, or cries for reasons beyond our understanding, that lives with difficult behaviors that hurt himself and others, that needs help in all aspects of daily living- ours will be a journey we will have to make on our own.

We walk this path with our son, a solitary journey that no one else seems to understand … or to care for much in this country. We have often faced blank walls in the pursuit for help. We have run into dead ends and blind alleys with no one to help lead us out. Often, we are pushed behind curtains and ignored. No one wants to hear real horror stories, it seems. No one wants to know.

Because of this, the irony of the celebration of Autism Consciousness Week in this country is not lost on us. We are quick to glorify and publicize special achievements but are unable to do anything for those who do not fit this idealized version of autism we persist in believing in. We don’t want to address it, much less, talk about it.

I am jaded. Or maybe I have just become, after years of idealism, a pragmatist, or worse, a realist who no longer dreams. What I do know is that I am tired. Tired of fighting this world that sees things in rose-colored lenses. Tired of speaking about things no else listens to. Tired of pretending that our son is just a sad aberration in the wonderful, quirky world of autistic differences. I am tired of all the “I am so sorry for you” BS and the patronizing sympathy that comes with the introduction of my name.

In these times when my helplessness turns into a quiet rage, I cling to the one thing I do know of- that despite our difficult life, we love our son with all our hearts. And we celebrate him every single day of our lifelong solitary journey.

If you really, really want to celebrate Autism Consciousness Week, then it’s time to get real. It’s time to walk The Walk. Come back to me when you’re ready to deal.

One other thing that keeps me busy these days is the photo-documentation of my Sylvanian Families collection. My blog is hopelessly out of date as far as figures and pictures are concerned, and one of the resolutions I had at the start of this year would be to organize and document my collection. It’s a process that’s not only tedious but time-consuming as well, but at least I’ve started. I’m nowhere near the halfway mark with figures and I haven’t even started out on buildings! I doubt if I will ever be able to update accessories and playsets as I’ve opened many of them, without thought of taking pictures before I played with them (head + desk). I’ve since learned my lessons, but the fact remains that I will never be able to fully document many of those I’ve already played with.

Which means, in real life terms… less talk and more action! Got to go back and resume photographing those critters, friends! I hope to be able to update the Sylvanian pages soon. Thanks for always sticking around, even when there’s nothing much going on.

When retro handsets for mobile phones went on sale last year, I wanted one for myself but I was too stymied by the price. Moshi moshi and Yubz retro handsets went for at least PhP1800 in the market, a bit too steep for my limited needs. While they were designed to reduce the body’s absorption of redio frequency energy generated by mobile phones by increasing the distance between the user and the phone, what they were, in the end, were novelty products that looked cute and were  guaranteed conversation pieces.

But guess what? If you wait long enough, variations of the same theme will inevitably come up in the universe. I hate to call this a fake or replica because it does really function as well as it looks. Let’s just call it generic retro handset then, to appease my conscience, haha.

I got my own Batphone at last.

And at PhP399, it was a steal!

A full week into the New Year of 2012 and things are settling down into routine. A♥ works, Alex goes to school, Alphonse works at home and does therapy. Even with the absence of two of his nannies, things are noticeably quiet and (*knocks on wood*) calm. Save for the thirty minutes when we all held our breaths last Saturday over Alphonse’s resistance to resuming aquatherapy ( we had to bodily carry him to the pool, all five of us- dad, mom, teacher and nannies), everything has been… I don’t even know the word anymore but here goes… normal. There. I said it. I seriously hope I don’t jinx myself.

The holidays are often periods of stress for us. When rigid schedules change to give way to merrymaking, we are often the last one in on the fun. But if we had any misgivings over the just passed season, it quickly went the way of our worries as Alphonse seemed to enjoy the absence of his teachers and the relaxed hours of fun and play. Christmas went without a hitch and blended seamlessly in our lives.

The New Year’s revelry, however, was a source of irritation and anxiety for Alphonse. We were hoping he would be asleep before the actual moment of firecracker madness started but alas, we were not so lucky. Alphonse woke up to the thunderous frenzy when the neighbors started hours earlier than expected. He was angry and frightened; he cringed visibly when the loud, violent sounds of giant firecrackers going off rocked our home. It took hours to calm his pacing, his shouting, the wringing of his hands.

Now that we have emerged from the holidays almost intact, it’s back to the land of real life, where bills need to be paid, food needs to be cooked (and not taken home, free, in fancy containers courtesy of kind relatives), and we live in accordance to the hours of the day and not the whims of the moment. It can be frightening, at times, to look at a future of the same things over and over again, to know a bit of tomorrow even before today is done, and one may even wonder if boredom and weariness will ever breed disinterest. But for a family whose whole life has been a series of upheavals one after the other, it can also be immensely comforting.

Trust me on this.

At midnight last night, I was fast asleep in bed, with Alphonse curled at my side. We had gone to Christmas Eve dinner at my parents but we went home earlier than the rest of my siblings to keep Alphonse’s bedtime rituals and schedule. And so, when the clock struck twelve, Alphonse and I were already somewhere in dreamland.

A light tap on the shoulder woke me up. I heard a small whisper in my ear. “Merry Christmas, honey. Wake up.” As my eyes tried to adjust to the darkened room, A♥’s smiling face came to view. Then he handed me a box wrapped in- what else?- newspaper and a small gift card.

Dearest P.,

I figured you might want company by the Riverside. Merry Christmas!

I love you always,

A.

“Riverside? Company? What was he talking about?” I thought to myself.

I was carefully removing layers of tape and paper when it dawned on me that…hmmm… I did own a new house called Riverside Lodge. Did he mean to give me a new neighboring house? Was that what he meant by “company?” It could be, my mind reasoned out. The box was big, after all, almost as big as, if not bigger than, Willow Hall’s box. As my mind tried to unravel the mystery before me, the careful unwrapping gave way to an orgy of flying paper and tape. I beamed him a smile as I beheld Larchwood Lodge, coming all the way from BeHappy Malaysia. (Thank you, Popo and Kiki!)

I thanked A♥ profusely, hugging my box and kissing it with joy. Alphonse started fidgeting in his sleep so I had to reduce my giggling and gurgling noises. I stared at it for a loooong time, turned it every which way, and then, feeling the onset of yawns, set it down reluctantly. I thanked A♥ again and prepared to get back to bed when A♥ pulled a bigger box from somewhere in the darknesss. “Where did that come from?” I mouthed the words silently. He just smiled even more.

When he handed me another card, the one that said

Dearest P.,

Dreams do come true. I should know, because I have you. Merry Christmas!

I love you forever,

A.

I thought I knew. My heart was heaving inside my chest, thumping like I was running a marathon. Oh, you should have seen me dancing crazily, hopping and shaking with glee. It had to be. It could only be that.

The Sylvanian Families John Lewis Department Store. Oh. My.

Even as I fervently hoped that the gift was, indeed, my number one wish list item, a question nagged me: how could A♥ get it when John Lewis does not ship internationally? Maybe I was wrong, after all.

I grabbed a pair of shears to diminish the sound of paper violently ripping. Alphonse was fidgeting a lot more and I was afraid he would wake up any moment. But halfway through unwrapping the box, as the giant letters spelling JOHN LEWIS were revealed printed on the side of the shipper’s box, a small address sticker caught my eye. I knew right away whose that was, having received packages sent from that address before.

Panda! I gasped.

“You’re not playing nice,” I said to A♥. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me,” I said coyly, pretending to be hurt. When he launched into the full story of how he wrote Panda to ask for her help, I had to launch myself into his arms. A gift from my two bestest friends in the world- what could be cooler and nicer and more generous than that?

So thank you, my bestest, farthest away friend, Panda, for making this Christmas wonderfully memorable. Your willingness to help a friend from across the oceans is truly a gift! And thank you to my bestest, nearest, most faithful friend of 28 years, my A♥, for making all my dreams come true. I will always deeply, madly, truly love you.

AP Photo/Aaron Favila

Three more days before Christmas and there is still so much sorrow in our land. More than a thousand people lost their lives in the deadly rains that swept through the southern portion of the country Friday night, and many more are still missing. Even as we prepare for the festivities of the coming weekend, many families are in deep mourning, unable to see past beyond today when there is only death and grief in their lives.

Tragedy is always difficult to comprehend. That it should happen at what should be a time for joy makes it even harder to understand, much less accept. There may be no comfort or consolation in our words, but our actions and gestures may help ease a little of their suffering today.

Let’s think beyond ourselves, my friends. Reach out to our countrymen who need us most today.

Here’s how (from the Philippine Red Cross website): SMS

Text RED<space>AMOUNT to 2899 (Globe) or 4143 (Smart)

G-Cash Text DONATE<space>AMOUNT<space>4-digit M-IN<space>REDCROSS to 2882

You can donate the following denominations:

Globe: 5, 25, 100, 300, 500 or 1000

Smart: 10, 25, 50, 100, 300, 500 or 1000

Not this year.

There will be none of the tinsel-throwing I have gotten used to from the kids. None of the careful unwrapping of heirloom ornaments from their crumbly tissue paper. None of Alphonse’s sleight of hand tricks with his favorite ball ornaments. Even the Christmas lighting ceremony we are used to, with A♥ waving his hands in the air like the Sorcerer’s Apprentice conjuring magic, is now but a memory of Christmases past.

This year, because Alphonse still does not seem to adapt well to change, we have decided not to put up the ten-foot tree and all its trimmings. We have not put up our blinking lights or the garlands that graced the stairs. Gone, too, are the wreaths and Christmas socks that bear the boys’ names. They are all in their boxes still, the first time in more than twenty years that they will not see light this time of the year.

I feel the loss as much and as deeply as I feel the loss of life as we knew it. In the last month of the year, almost twelve months since Alphonse got sick, we have only begun to resume the normal cycles of our home life. We live in a state of fragile peace and if sacrificing superficial trappings is all it took to save that peace, we are content to live with a bare, unadorned home.

Still, I sense a sadness in the people who live with me, a kind of grief and regret that often seem too trivial to talk about but are felt, nonetheless. In their unspoken sorrow, I realized that while Christmas will always be in our hearts, sometimes, you have to risk a little to remember that this is all about Him who risked and gave up His life for us.

So yesterday, when I woke up, I brought out a small box of decorations. The nannies were confused. I could hear them whispering among themselves. After a few minutes, when they saw what I did, even they broke out in large smiles.

“We’ll put the tree away when Alphonse is around, Ate,” one said.

“And I’m sure he won’t mind too much the ones on the mantle. They’re out of the way and out of his reach naman,” another said.

“If Alphonse throws them, they won’t break!” chimed another.

“The size of your gifts will be proportional to the size of our tree then,” I kidded and they all laughed.

And with that one single moment, amid the smiles and cheers, Christmas was back in our lives.

It began this November, when the Tuxedo Triplets, aka Charcoal Cat Babies, arrived on my doorstep. They were a lively bunch, a little too frisky and restless compared to the other babies I had, but I couldn’t blame them. They were missing their family! They cried constantly and mewled me to distraction! Meow Meow Meow Meow!Unfortunately, while these triplets still had a bad case of jet lag, having flown more than 8000 km to reach me, their family was nowhere to be found here in Manila. To search for them, the Three Little Kittens would have to fly 1,116 km to a secondary destination. It would be another long journey for them.

On a rainy Saturday morning, the Three Little Kittens packed up their meager belongings and boarded a plane. As they looked out the window, they whispered a silent prayer. “Please, Papa God, help us find our family. Amen.”

Inside the plane, the kittens were simply too excited and restless, getting into all sorts of mischief, trying on things, and even getting their paws into a full-sized snack!

Kittymama was napping, with her hair curlers on, when they woke her up for a picture. Who knew she traveled with her hair in curlers? (Shhh, let’s just keep that a secret for now.)

Once they found some inflight entertainment, the kittens calmed down a bit.

The Simpsons, however, had them in stitches and they almost fell off their perches on the tray table from laughing out loud. It was a good thing that before they could wake up a planeload of people with their mewling, the plane was ready to land. The Three Little Kittens were happy to find land!

They posed with Kittymama for souvenir pictures at the Hong Kong International Airport. Then, they all boarded the bus that would take them to the heart of the city.

As soon as they found their hotel, the Three Little Kittens wanted to begin their search in earnest. Kittymama had a list of possible places, but in each one, there was no sign of the triplets’ family.

Are you here, Mama, Papa?

Depressed, the kittens resigned themselves into orphanhood. Kittymama pressed them to go on with the search so they decided to go farther. The next day, they took a ferry boat to the nearby city of Macau. The waters were rough and choppy, but the triplets were determined to end their search that day.

Still, despite their long walk around the city and the stomach-contents-hurling driving techniques of the cab drivers, they found no sign of their parents.

No one seemed to know where to find them. No one has heard of them in a while, and some have claimed their last sightings were way back in October. The Three Little Kittens seemed to find one obstacle after another. Once again, they mewled helplessly.

Peppermint, for one, seemed almost ready to jump off the 233-meter high platform of the Macau Tower.

Suicide? No way! I just wanted to bungee jump!

By the end of their second day, the Three Little Kittens were no nearer to finding their family. As they gazed around the city, they repeated their silent prayers for guidance and direction. Surely, they must be out there, they said to themselves. They mewled softly all the way home.

By a fortuitous turn of events, however, Kittymama was set to meet a new Sylvanian friend, Ms. Karen, and her wonderful husband, Mr. German, the very next day. Ms. Karen is a long time collector of Sylvanian Families in Hong Kong. She and Kittymama met in 2009 in – hold your breath- Facebook! Since then, they’ve been corresponding over the social network and they promised to meet up the next time Kittymama visited.

Together with her husband, Ms. Karen accompanied Kittymama and A♥ to different places to look for the Triplets’ family.

Kittymama, A♥, and the triplets simply loved Ms. Karen and her husband! They were two of the nicest people they’ve ever met. To spend one whole day with someone you hardly knew, to patiently guide them and bring them to different places, to treat them to a wonderful meal of authentic Chinese cuisine- these were all kindnesses that were totally unexpected but deeply appreciated. You really do find friends where you least expect them.

The Three Little Kittens held out hope and prayed that Ms. Karen would be able to help them. And true enough, it was Ms. Karen who saved the day!

Before they parted that night, Ms. Karen handed Kittymama a small bag. Ms. Karen had been keeping that bag since October, when she did Kittymama a big favor. When the box inside the bag was opened, you could not imagine the joyful and tearful mewls and meows that filled our room. It was so touching, really.

At the airport the next day, the reunited members of the family still could not believe their luck.

Angelica and Peppermint embraced their father tight, afraid to let go.

Midnight clambered on to Mama while sister looked on happily.

And Peppermint was hugged from all sides by her big sisters.

It was a joyful family reunion!

The Charcoal Family, complete at last!

Even Kittymama knew she had been lucky, extremely lucky. She was grateful that the kittens had found their famly, but she was even more grateful for the time she spent with her beloved A♥. Truly, there could be no greater adventure than the ones she shared with A♥!

Best of all, Kittymama was thankful for another precious Sylvanian friendship. The best part of collecting Sylvanian Families is always the new friends we find along the way.

Thus ended the story of how the Three Little Kittens found their parents and sisters. Of how Kittymama and A♥ had a grand adventure. Of how Kittymama made a new friend.

The End.

]]> http://okasaneko.wordpress.com/2011/12/14/how-the-three-little-kittens-found-their/feed/ 3 Kittymama Three Little Kittens Adventure three little kittens cartoon Three Little Kittens Adventure 01 Three Little Kittens Adventure 02 Three Little Kittens Adventure 04 Three Little Kittens Adventure 03 Three Little Kittens Adventure 05 Three Little Kittens Adventure 24 Three Little Kittens Adventure 06 Three Little Kittens Adventure 07 Three Little Kittens Adventure 11 Three Little Kittens Adventure 08 Three Little Kittens Adventure 09 Three Little Kittens Adventure 13 Three Little Kittens Adventure 14 Three Little Kittens Adventure 15 Three Little Kittens Adventure 16 Three Little Kittens Adventure 17 Three Little Kittens Adventure 18 Three Little Kittens Adventure 19 Three Little Kittens Adventure 22 Three Little Kittens Adventure 20 Three Little Kittens Adventure 21 Three Little Kittens Adventure 23 Three Little Kittens Adventure 25 Three Little Kittens Adventure 26 http://okasaneko.wordpress.com/2011/12/12/crocs-aholic/ http://okasaneko.wordpress.com/2011/12/12/crocs-aholic/#comments Mon, 12 Dec 2011 06:49:12 +0000 Kittymama http://okasaneko.wordpress.com/?p=6308 ]]> I got new Crocs on a recent trip and love them so much I thought I’d show them off.

The Crocs Cobbler ankle boot in black suede and a chunky two-inch heel is to die for! It runs a bit wide so it was perfect for me. Although it was cozily snug, it was also roomy near the toes that it allowed for a bit of air to circulate inside (so my feet don’t get deathly stinky, hehe). The heel was the absolute clincher in the deal as it provided height without the danger of toppling over. A♥ wasn’t convinced I needed this pair but after a few minutes of whimpering and begging, he finally gave in. This would be his Christmas gift for me, I added convincingly.

I like this shot. I look thin in it!

I think A♥ would’ve believed me if I hadn’t gotten the Crocband Hello Kitty winter boot, but alas, I had also begged for them earlier. Still, what is a Hello Kitty fanatic to do (and I thought I had been rehabilitated enough, heehee!) when faced with choices such as these? The Crocband Hello Kitty winter boot has a water-resistant nylon upper with puffy fill for warmth and comfort. Fortunately, the filling isn’t too thick that wearing it this season in a tropical climate is total foot suicide. The upper sole is a bit narrow but it does give a little with time.

It comes in two colors, white and black. While the white one is adorable, the black one seems a more logical choice when it comes to wearability. The white one just seems to ”wintery,” aside from the obvious fact that it will get dirty with use.

I am absolutely bowled over boots and if I could, I would wear them everyday! Fortunately, the brief periods of cool weather and sporadic rainshowers make this possible for now.  Oh, how I love, love, love Crocs boots!