CONFESSIONS OF A BIRTHDAY PLANNER

Juggling work, motherhood, and party planning is no joke. I always have to take time off from social scenes for a month-long hibernation and stint as Martha Stewart. The DIY (do-it-yourself) guru is truly heaven sent to budget-conscious moms who exhaust whatever talents and creativity they can discover and juice out, just to make their simple celebration look more festive. I, for one, go the extra mile by doing almost everything on my own: Invites, audio-visual presentation, decors, giveaway tags, party dress, etc. As a single mom, I can only count on my talents to make up for the small budget I usually set aside for my daughter's soiree. If I only know how to cook gourmet dishes and bake more than the usual chocolate cake, I'd probably try and make wonders in the kitchen in dire need of a sumptuous menu.

Last year's celebration looked so posh and "expensive" on photos and magazine print, but little did people know how much of my personal time and energy were sacrificed to pull off such concept.

Tatiana was hooked to the Barbie animated film Fashion Fairytale, and it perfectly matched my idea of a black and pink motif with a French twist. Friends willingly stepped in to help me with the decorations. Going beyond my capability is already border line to being a control freak, and so I endorsed the designs I had in mind to a trusty cake artist and cookie baker.

My daughter turned 5 last February, and I was on my usual party planning rituals for about 3 weeks. I had to cut the budget by half since I was saving for her early registration fees at school and summer ballet workshop. I moved the venue to our place instead, and worked on a shorter invite list for an intimate afternoon gathering. Our common love for French theme became our inspiration for the Patisserie-themed party (which, in the invite, we spelled as Par-tea). I did my research online during lunch breaks, while I slept with fresh paper cuts every evening.

My boyfriend was a first timer to this Martha Stewart living, but he generously offered a hand in producing the paper crafts. Patience was tested as I alternately took the role of teacher and crafter in between deep breaths. We were running out of time as he flew in from Manila just a week before the party. I considered myself a perfectionist at work and an occasional event planner, hence I always have that adrenaline rush and natural instinct to work at magic’s speed given the limited time. 

With no party planning experience to put to his credit, I did majority of the paper crafts before his arrival, so he won't feel as pressured and for us to have more bonding time in our hands. Don't get me wrong. My heart melted with his sweet generosity and sincere efforts to help me with the preparations. As much as I wanted to do everything on my own, if I didn’t share my to-do list with him, he would have felt useless and I would have drown in guilt for being selfish.

A day before the party, my boyfriend and I were already about 50 steps away from starting World War 3, with series of failed attempts in meeting party planning expectations. Even with the silent treatment, you could actually see AYOKO NA! flashed in red paint on our talk bubbles.

Me: I gave you the pattern for the favor box, right? It's just easy. All you have to do is trace and cut through the pattern. Then fold and glue the sides and ends.

BF: Sorry. They don’t come out nice eh, ‘cause you didn't follow ruler-perfect lines and measurements.

Ow-kay... I guess he scored a point there for being more OC than I was. But fact remains we were running out of time. Yaya graciously stood as middleman, helping with whatever she could, with a bit of side comments like, "Wow, galing ah, parang task ito ni Big Brother." 

Come event proper, we put on our best smiles and party clothes to hide telltale signs of sleepless nights. I let out a sigh of relief as I looked at our setup. It was far from the previous parties Tatiana had, but what we had put together was something insanely wonderful. I wondered how we survived such production without ending up in a hospital bed. Everything in the DIY checklist was beautifully executed and completed: Patisserie favor boxes, buntings, chef's hats, cupcake piñata, invites, birthday dress. My mind was still in a blur as we only finished decorating the place within 30 minutes before the party.  

Boyfriend transformed into a party host and twisted balloons to different shapes like piglet, horse, motorcycle, and many more (thanks to YouTube). And just like my DIY projects, the kids got to decorate their own cupcakes, ice cream cups, and caramel apples. We even taught them how to make 3d cake slices (favor boxes made out of cardboard paper). Talk about being hands on and budget wise! The playful tots giggled endlessly even with improvised games like the Cupcake Tier, our cupcake version of Pin the Tail on the Pony. I guess all the stress were sealed and glued so tight on the cupcake piñata, that made it difficult to manage and uncooperative at game time. We laughed ceaselessly as it took 10 sound-induced pulls to get the piñata to open, revealing hundreds of chocolate covered treats.

Tired, sleepless, and stressed out. All the work was worth the exhaustion after seeing how happy my baby was on her birthday.  Thanks to family, cousins, friends, and godparents who made her day extra special. Budget friendly planning and handmade decors... Nothing looked too simple for the company who loves my daughter so much. All of you are heaven sent. Special thanks to my boyfriend for his great love and admiration for my daughter. As promised, next year's party won't be as stressful: 5 months of advance planning and no grave threat of another Word War. I hope.

Bisous, bisous.

-------------------------

Story published for my weekly Metro Mom column in Edge Davao newspaper, A4 of INdulge section, Vol. 5 Issue 17, 27 March 2012.

ONE GOLDEN EVENING

The creativity and style of celebrated Filipino designers Oj Hofer and Jun Escario brought the house down in a special fashion preview held at the Marco Polo Ballroom.

Georgina Wilson in an Oj Hofer creation.

The city’s most chic and stylish came in their own statement attire, and swayed and posed with much pizzazs and class as they entered the ballroom. The all-white stage set up was complemented by frosted glass imitations of French boutique displays. 

Bia Apostol in Jun Escario

Jarisse Go in Jun Escario.

Aina del Rosario in Oj Hofer

Jessica Yap in Jun Escario

It was no less than the statuesque Georgina Wilson who opened the show, parading in Oj Hofer’s all black number. Davao socialites Jessica Yap, Jarisse Go, Bia Bautista, Karen Alabado, and Aina Del Rosario graced the runway together with some talents from Glam Model House. All models were decked with intricate accessories by DiaGold, Inc., the jewelry brand for which Georgina is the main endorser. 

Dr. Karen Alabado in Jun Escario

Georgina in Jun Escario

Jun Escario’s black and gold corset gown was the show stopping ensemble that Georgina wore at the curtain call. It was indeed a night of glitter and fashion for the city.

Aina del Castillo, DiaGold's Jennifer Villoria, Oj Hofer, Merce Abellana, and Cherylynn Uy

Jennifer Viloria, Georgina Wilson, and Jun Escario

---

Story published in Edge Davao, Page A4 of INdulge section, Volume 5 Issue 15, 24 March 2012. 

TURNING POINT: THE WAY BACK INTO LOVE

When driving, you take the lead of these illustrated road signs to get to your destination. In dating, girls and boys find common ground within the singles’ lane in pursuit of destiny. For most single moms, driving with precaution through a road less travelled, the stoplight is a blinding yet unavoidable reminder of a former life threatening car crash with love.

Don’t get me wrong. Single moms don’t evolve into man-haters. There are still those who remain suckers for love, while some keep a fiberglass to shield off cupid’s arrow. A second or third chance at romance somehow becomes wishful thinking, with your child in mind as possible collateral damage to another blind curve.

My friend and I chatted throughout dinner one night. Two single moms catching up on lost time, talking about men and our fear of failing. It wasn’t after we wiped out a box of pizza that she spilled the beans. She’s in love and didn’t know what to do.

When can you say a guy’s just being a friend? Is there such as thing as too friendly? A cuddle or two, a shoulder to cry on, a doting “tito” to some sort… Is he a friend or a lover?

There was no doubt he loved her kid. She was sure of it. She just needed a clear sign from above on whether or not should she open her heart to her friend. She wasn’t even sure if he was in love with her.  Her sighs accompanied her usual reply to my prodding for her to give love another try.

“I can’t make another mistake, Meg. Another heart ache might push me to insanity and I need to keep myself together for my kid.”

Well, she has a point. I’d diagnose her case as replay phobia: Fear of the past, bigger than her own head. I wasn’t playing “Ms. Know It All” now that I am happily committed, nor did I keep words of enlightenment in fear of another blind leading the blind discussion. I remember, 5 years ago, I once got too vocal against the saying: “The turning point in a girl’s life is when she turns 25.” NO WAY! I got pregnant at 22. Would that saying warn me of another life changing struggle coming soon?  I shrugged off the memory and held my friend’s hand. I felt I needed to lighten up the mood. So I talked some optimism in her.

Maybe our mistakes really shape who we are now. It would have been easier if there were tell tale signs on the roads to keep us from getting jaded. A “no left turn” sign could have avoided unplanned pregnancies, or maybe life should also have pedestrian lanes so police can arrest the jaywalkers who cheat on women. No matter what happened in the past, we can’t do a U-turn to erase the mishaps. Mistakes build character, and everyone is entitled to a second chance. Single mom or not, we journey through bumpy roads that build character and make us better persons. A single mom would know better, I guess, but only holds back bold courage for love because of fear of dragging her kid into a dead end.

I’m not saying we should be happy with the mistakes we made. But, come to think of it, if we never veered off course, we wouldn’t know what love is. I don’t mean LOVE between a man and a woman.  You only take that to experience. I mean the mother-child kind of love that you’ll hold in your heart forever. Hence, single or committed, she shouldn’t fear losing her insanity in case she does another head on impact into heartbreak zone. A mother’s daughter will keep her on her toes no matter what.  So, why not give love another try? Unlike health and finance, love has no insurance policy, neither does it have guarantees of a bright and blissful future. Its success lies on your determination to work the relationship out, no monthly contributions required.

Love doctor signed out, and I left my friend to do her own thinking. I sure do hope what I said will result to something good. Or else, I might have to pay her back everything she spent on dinner, and the damages my advice may cause her.

I crossed my fingers and hoped for the best. And so did she.

----

Story published in Edge Davao, Page A2 of INdulge section, Vol. 5 Issue 3, 21 March 2012.

EXPECTING THE UNEXPECTED

A model-thin advertising mogul who lives out of a suitcase and boasts of a collection of shoes, bags, clothes, and accessories profuse enough to fit the closet of a fashion magazine. This is the movie in my mind. Or, should I say, was.

I had a wish list of what I wanted to happen to my life in the next 7 years. I dreamed, prayed and hoped. Despite the movie character I longed to become, I remained realistic. At the time, I was enjoying my new found career in public relations. I was always on the go as my mind went wild with creative ideas and colorful imaginations. I was (and, if the schedule permits, still am) a workaholic by day, social butterfly by night. I was, then, 22 years old.

Fast forward to 7 years, my profile now reads: Film school graduate, public relations manager, layout artist, writer, fashion fanatic, partyphile, photo enthusiast and SINGLE MOTHER.

Fate came a-calling just days before my 23rd birthday. The two tell-tale lines on the pregnancy test led me to silent cries of disbelief as I went through the whole painful ordeal and discovery of such unexpected chaos. The truth didn’t quite sink in (or maybe I chose not to believe the sign) until I took my third test. I wanted to lash out on friends who comforted me by saying that my 7 week old baby was the greatest gift God could ever give me for my birthday. “YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! MY LIFE IS OVER!” I didn’t know what the future held for me, nor did I know what a baby would mean in my life. Tears and fears aside, having calmed my nerves down, I swallowed the truth and inhaled courage and strength.

I tried to live and breathe the air of a fulfilled woman for the rest of the 32 weeks of my pregnancy. TRIED was the operative word as it was hard going through the difficult days alone. This mom-to-be was living on her own, with the future of the child depending on her profession and bank account. If you were an OB-Gyne, I’d say I wasn’t your usual case, with not much qualms, pregnancy woes and discomfort… 


Everything was by choice.


I didn’t go through the paglilihi phase because if I craved for any particular food at any given time of the day, I KNEW I WOULD HAVE TO GET IT ON MY OWN.


I didn’t have dizzy spells and morning sickness because if I fail to show up at work, I KNEW I WOULDN’T EARN ENOUGH TO SAVE FOR MY CHILD’S FUTURE.


I wasn’t slow to move at work because I WAS DRIVEN TO FINISH ON TIME SO I COULD LEAVE BEFORE THE FAST FOOD RESTAURANTS CLOSED SO I COULD BUY MY DINNER.


I endured 22 hours of labor without epidural, puffing through Lamaze breathing techniques and getting clock-crazy doing mental counting, BECAUSE I HAD NO ONE TO RELY ON BUT MYSELF AND THE LITTLE BUDGET I HAD FOR CHILDBIRTH EXPENSES.

From the point of childbirth to how my daughter is right now, I give credit to my friends as I have come to fully understand the blessing Tatiana brought to my life. With her first word and step, every milestone she made, I found more reasons to embrace life. My daughter is my strength now as my mom had been before. She loves me as if I am her sun and moon. It is through her that I learned the art of forgiving. I shed out whatever excess baggage I had (both emotionally and physically), and found more reasons to believe that there is so much good and beauty in this world. Little things don’t bother me anymore. I’ve been through childbirth, nothing can ever rain on my parade. I developed a knack for looking at the brighter side of life. I still have my shortcomings as a single parent (workaholic and unable to provide other luxuries, etc), but I try my hardest to give my daughter a better chance in living her life to the fullest.  

Motherhood for a single mom, like me, is a road to improvement. I continue to be a work in progress, and I commit to be the best for my daughter. I am her best frenemy, a fairy godmother and wicked witch in one form. I share my friendships, happiness and troubles with her, just as she tells me her innocent thoughts on life. We bring the house down with bickers and squabbles, but make up for it with more love than I ever thought possible.  It pains me to be at work when I know my daughter longs for my time and attention during the day. However, I not only need my career to provide for her, but also to inspire her with whatever success I can claim from using my talents and brain.  What and how I am now will shape my child’s future.

With her, I am living a purpose driven life.

----
Story published on Edge Davao, Page A4 of INdulge section, Issue 3, 07 March 2012.

Follow Edge Davao on Facebook  for a full version of today's paper. Visit http://www.facebook.com/EdgeDavao  or go to http://issuu.com/edgedavao/docs/edge5_issue3?mode=window&backgroundColor#222222.

SPELL BUSY

Just like the door sign on my shower room, I've been pretty occupied and swamped nowadays. Blogs, yet to be posted, remain un-titled and hanging. Now that I have a few minutes of idle time from work, my mind visualizes a white-out space with cozy pillows and silky sheets. Heaven and bliss in the comfort of my room, where sleep becomes a luxury, dozing off with sighs of content, humming "DO NOT DISTURB."

Will be bloggin' again soon. For now, I'll rest. Good night, folks.