Our current list of readings |
One of the things I'm often asked about is the list of things that we have for homeschooling. If you're a parent who was educated in the Philippines, I'm pretty sure you remember those years in grade school and high school when each one of us was asked to bring materials on the first day of school to be used and shared in the class for the entire academic year. The list included three different colors of construction paper (cartolina), one roll of Manila paper, colored papers and whatnot. Basically, it's the same thing that we do in homeschooling. We buy a bunch of stuff to start the “school
year” off. And well, to be honest, even if we're not homeschooling we'd have all these things in our home office-slash-classroom-slash-mini-library because I have this insane passion for school stuff. I had a huge collection of erasers when I was in grade school and I'd even bring a huge box with me to our vacations during summer. A logical explanation is something I don't have for this. I love all things cute, especially if they're ones used for school.
Here is a list of things that homeschoolers need. It does look like a mundane list but we all need a guide of some sort when we go shopping because whether we admit it or not, we don't always have the time to equip ourselves with it. Do I hear a loud YES mommies?
- Ballpoint pens (red, blue, black)
- Pencils
- Highlighters
- Scissors
- Glue sticks
- Colored pencils
- Three-ring binder for Science projects and art work compilation
- Pencil sharpener
- Erasers
- Water-based markers
- White glue
- Composition notebooks
- Spiral-bound notebooks
- Loose notebook papers/fillers
- Folders
- Manila paper
- Construction paper
- Printer paper
- Ink cartridges for the computer
- Ruler with metric measurements
- Scotch tape
- Stapler
- Watercolor paints
- Chalk
- Drawing paper
- Pastel colors
- Crayons
- Permanent markers
- Pain brushes (all sizes)
- Staple wires
There might still be a lot of things missing here. I'd love for you to add to this list, too!
We love Mongol but who can refuse these? |
He gets painting lessons from both his Papa and his uncle, the artist Harry Jim Herrera |
I wouldn't know because I'm not an artist, but the ones who are say this is one of the best kinds |
At first I wasn't keen on getting him his own laptop but it made it so much easier for us to give him tests, readings and even lectures |
We insist on doing it the classic way |
Oh yes, these we have lots of! |
Tablet for some of his readings. Cole knows he can't run away from them |
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Old ones and new ones all in one colorful place |
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Attika, our one-year old, loves these dual colored pens |
Yep, HP Everyday |
A printer and scanner in one comes in very handy for homeschoolers (especially ones donated by aunts). We print test papers and other school records for documentation |
Of course, we always end up in this toy box at the end of the day |
cure for mondays is a top homeschooling philippine blog,
best mommy blogger, top asia women's blog, best homeschool website, family
issues blog
homeschooling, homeschoolers, school materials, school supplies, office supplies, Manila, Philippines
Swatch watches were a huge part of my childhood. I was not too fortunate to own a collection but I've always thought of them as lovely, lovely things. My sister owned a couple, if I reme
mber it correctly. When big sister's away, I'd try on her chunky Pop Swatch that looked like an oversized turnip on my skinny wrist. Still, I thought that was pretty.
mber it correctly. When big sister's away, I'd try on her chunky Pop Swatch that looked like an oversized turnip on my skinny wrist. Still, I thought that was pretty.
My favorite was a Swatch ring watch, which I found to be really difficult to find at the time when I was ready to buy my own.
I was equally happy with my pink and blue Benetton though, which I got as a surprise for one of my birthdays. I stayed loyal to it until its demise on my 18th birthday.
It's a Sunday today and I'm grinning from ear to ear. I recently got a Dell Inspiron from Mr Young and what came with it was a voucher for a Swatch watch. My lucky star must have flewn over my house without me noticing it. The clerk had me choose from four different models and I chose the one that looked closest to the classic Swatches that I used to really like as a young girl.
I'm happy and I'm loving it.
Thank you Dell!
Swatch, Dell Inspiron, ring watch, gift idea, fashion watch, Pop Swatch, Benetton, Manila, Rockwell, Philippines
Manila sunset, Taguig City, airport view, bonifacio global city, the fort, Laguna de Bay, Manila, Philippines
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Art by Dani Davis |
You know that your day is going to be distressing when halfway through it you're at the Help Desk reporting an abusive mother to the police.
I had such an unpretty day yesterday. Cole and I went to pick up Motherhen (my term of endearment for my mother) from the airport and that's where my mini saga began. The picking up was not so bad since there was no traffic . The waiting wasn’t so bad either because Cole was with me and boredom never comes around when you're with that kid. At quarter past one, Motherhen texted that she had to wait for her luggage so Cole and I went around to check out the new shops at the second floor (by “new” I mean the ones that were not there the last time we went to NAIA 3).
We went around and ended up at the entrance lobby. There I noticed a girl, about five or six years old, sprawled all over the floor screaming and crying. I did not see an adult anywhere near her so I stopped and asked Cole if he saw anyone with the girl.
“Her mom is the woman in black,” Cole told me.
I looked around and asked if it was the woman in an all-black burqa. She was the nearest one to the girl and was seated, albeit uncomfortably, on a luggage cart and was oblivious of the caterwauling girl.
Around this time the girl's other sandal went flying up the air not necessarily aimed at anyone. I'm thinking, that would have given that woman in a burqa a reason to budge...or breathe if that sandal ended up on her head.
“Not that one, mommy. The other one.” Cole pointed to a slender woman in a black shirt. She was quite far from the girl but I knew right away from the way she looked at the girl that she was hers. It was that very “Bathorynian” look that told me the other half of that scene was not going to end well, so I stayed there to see if the mother was going to pick up her daughter and offer her some comfort. After a few more minutes she maneuvered her cart around and pushed it towards the little girl and when she was near her, she charged even faster and rammed her daughter's leg with the steel cart. The little girl screamed in pain and cried some more so she pinched her shoulder, picked her up and slammed her in the cart then she hit the little girl's head with her hand. Twice.
I stood there with my mouth open and I could feel Cole tightly clutching my arm. He knew that I was not going to just stand there and watch the whole awful thing happen.
“Mom...” Cole gave me a worried look.
I'm not sure what came over him first, fear of that evil mother or fear of me, but I did not want to cause him any trauma so I gently told him, “Cole, I need to go to the police and report that woman. She's hurting that child and the worst thing that we could do is to not do anything.”
Cole nodded so we walked fast to the Help Desk, which oddly was a just a few meters away from where the girl and her mother were. I approached the two policemen who were standing there and told them that a woman was hurting her child. It struck me how close the Help Desk was because I could hear the girl crying from there and I had no trouble pointing to them the direction where the incident was happening. I told them to please do something about it because a child was getting hurt.
The first thing that one of the guards asked me was, “Anak ho ba niya? (Is that her child?)”
Hhhmm. Duh? My apologies, but I had not time to do profiling but basing from my suspicion, yes, she was her child.
“Yes,” I said. “Please do something about it.” I did not budge until one of them turned around and went to approach the mother.
Three things nettled me with that airport incident. One, the policemen were so near and one of them even said “Ah, oo. (Oh, yes)” nonchalantly and did not take responsibility until somebody complained. Two, I understand that people were running against time and too many of them passed by the child. Some of them even had to avoid hitting her with their carts, yet none of them cared to stop or take notice at least. Three, for the life of me, I do not understand why some women even have the gall to bring children into this world if they do not have the capacity to love these little people.
I left the airport with a heavy heart. If mothers could publicly do that to their children, I couldn't bring myself to think what they could do to these children inside their houses. Also, are people too busy to notice that children are publicly being embarrassed and abused?
In the taxi ride home, Cole held my hand and said, “Mommy, you were very brave.”
I answered, “I wasn't brave Cole, I just had to do what's right or I'd have to suffer endless nights wearing a guilty blanket over me had I not given that mother a chance to feel a little fear at least.”
Today, I'm still hopeful that I was able to award her that.
I had such an unpretty day yesterday. Cole and I went to pick up Motherhen (my term of endearment for my mother) from the airport and that's where my mini saga began. The picking up was not so bad since there was no traffic . The waiting wasn’t so bad either because Cole was with me and boredom never comes around when you're with that kid. At quarter past one, Motherhen texted that she had to wait for her luggage so Cole and I went around to check out the new shops at the second floor (by “new” I mean the ones that were not there the last time we went to NAIA 3).
We went around and ended up at the entrance lobby. There I noticed a girl, about five or six years old, sprawled all over the floor screaming and crying. I did not see an adult anywhere near her so I stopped and asked Cole if he saw anyone with the girl.
“Her mom is the woman in black,” Cole told me.
I looked around and asked if it was the woman in an all-black burqa. She was the nearest one to the girl and was seated, albeit uncomfortably, on a luggage cart and was oblivious of the caterwauling girl.
Around this time the girl's other sandal went flying up the air not necessarily aimed at anyone. I'm thinking, that would have given that woman in a burqa a reason to budge...or breathe if that sandal ended up on her head.
“Not that one, mommy. The other one.” Cole pointed to a slender woman in a black shirt. She was quite far from the girl but I knew right away from the way she looked at the girl that she was hers. It was that very “Bathorynian” look that told me the other half of that scene was not going to end well, so I stayed there to see if the mother was going to pick up her daughter and offer her some comfort. After a few more minutes she maneuvered her cart around and pushed it towards the little girl and when she was near her, she charged even faster and rammed her daughter's leg with the steel cart. The little girl screamed in pain and cried some more so she pinched her shoulder, picked her up and slammed her in the cart then she hit the little girl's head with her hand. Twice.
I stood there with my mouth open and I could feel Cole tightly clutching my arm. He knew that I was not going to just stand there and watch the whole awful thing happen.
“Mom...” Cole gave me a worried look.
I'm not sure what came over him first, fear of that evil mother or fear of me, but I did not want to cause him any trauma so I gently told him, “Cole, I need to go to the police and report that woman. She's hurting that child and the worst thing that we could do is to not do anything.”
Cole nodded so we walked fast to the Help Desk, which oddly was a just a few meters away from where the girl and her mother were. I approached the two policemen who were standing there and told them that a woman was hurting her child. It struck me how close the Help Desk was because I could hear the girl crying from there and I had no trouble pointing to them the direction where the incident was happening. I told them to please do something about it because a child was getting hurt.
The first thing that one of the guards asked me was, “Anak ho ba niya? (Is that her child?)”
Hhhmm. Duh? My apologies, but I had not time to do profiling but basing from my suspicion, yes, she was her child.
“Yes,” I said. “Please do something about it.” I did not budge until one of them turned around and went to approach the mother.
Three things nettled me with that airport incident. One, the policemen were so near and one of them even said “Ah, oo. (Oh, yes)” nonchalantly and did not take responsibility until somebody complained. Two, I understand that people were running against time and too many of them passed by the child. Some of them even had to avoid hitting her with their carts, yet none of them cared to stop or take notice at least. Three, for the life of me, I do not understand why some women even have the gall to bring children into this world if they do not have the capacity to love these little people.
I left the airport with a heavy heart. If mothers could publicly do that to their children, I couldn't bring myself to think what they could do to these children inside their houses. Also, are people too busy to notice that children are publicly being embarrassed and abused?
In the taxi ride home, Cole held my hand and said, “Mommy, you were very brave.”
I answered, “I wasn't brave Cole, I just had to do what's right or I'd have to suffer endless nights wearing a guilty blanket over me had I not given that mother a chance to feel a little fear at least.”
Today, I'm still hopeful that I was able to award her that.
abused children, children, abusive mother, NAIA 3, philippine policemen, child abuse, battered children
Old Boy Desktop finally succumbed to years of use (and subtle abuse) and died a natural death last August (old news it is). When I was about to begin working on a manuscript one morning, it suddenly crept in to me. There it was again, the silence that haunted me when Old Boy refused to boot months back. Was it old age that kept him from strutting? All I could see was a dark screen staring back at me. So I sat there waiting for him to end the tragic taunt and allow me to start working. In my case, time is gold and I don't mean it in a poetic sense. Time is something I don't have and can't have until both kids are on their own. The last time I checked “that time” is quite far into the future. For now, my everyday life looks something like this: kids+hubby+home+work. Work outside my domestic premise gets accomplished whenever I get a break from both kids. When does that happen to mothers, really?
After checking, rechecking and restarting several times, Mr Young declared Old Boy dead at 8:04, August 23, 2012.
What now? I have a writing job that won't allow me to use paper and pen for submissions. The world fell apart, and it is with shame that I admit it resembled the sleazy "Twilight Saga" drama.
That drama ended too quickly though and I was back as Maria Von Trapp singing “Climb Every Mountain” when Mr Young came home with a lovely, fiery red surprise. He was keeping it for our anniversary but tragedy happened and we had no choice but to bump off August and let September slide in.
Red it is
My new Inspiron 13z (N311z) is in a fiery red color that I absolutely love. If you're thinking of purchasing a laptop for yourself, you might consider getting this one. Well, unless you hate red as much as I love it. Find a comprehensive full length review by Vincent Chang of CNET Asia here. The only difference is that mine has a 6GB memory. Too much for my needs really, but I'm not complaining.
CNET Asia will cover whatever question you might have about Inspiron. If you're a mom like me who releases the words “how much” pretty much the same way that Zeus released the Kraken, then I should tell you that the price of Inspiron will not upset you. SRP is at USD684 (roughly around PhP 28,700+).
Attika, our baby Santa |
One of the perks of homeschooling is being able to work around a freer schedule. Of course, it helps to have a loose list of things to follow everyday but it doesn’t have to be monotonous that it would drive the kids to boreland (and me to cuckooland).
The other things that I can’t wait for Cole to see (I actually think “to experience” is a better term) are the sculpture gallery featuring the works of some of our National Artists like Graciano Nepumuceno, Isabelo Tampicino, Guillermo Tolentino and many others.
There’s also the “Kaban ng Lahi”, a gallery of archeological treasures and “Pinagmulan”, a display of items from pre-historic Philippines.
There’s a lot more to see at the National Museum of the Philippines. I confess, I have a lot of learning to do myself when it comes to Philippine history and so this trip will be parallel learning for Cole and me. I attended the Visual Literacy and Art Criticism Workshop in U.P. Diliman last summer. I obviously did not become a genius at it overnight (maybe never) but it did open gargantuan doors of learning for me. One of the requirements of the workshop was to write a review of an art work chosen from the Vargas Museum. Our mentors found it bizarre that I chose Severino Fabie's “A Man With a Newspaper" but it allowed me to sleep soundly on that decision. So mote it be.
The Philippine National Museum is located at P. Burgos Drive in Manila and is open Tuesdays to Sundays from 10am to 5pm. Phone Number: (02) 527 1215
Admissions are free on Sundays. However, in celebration of the national Museum Week, the entrance fees are waived for the whole month of October. Yes, everyone gets to go in for free!
Here's a table of the National Museum's regular fees for your future reference
Individual
|
Fee (PHP)
|
Student
|
30.00
|
Senior Citizen
|
80.00
|
Adult
|
100.00
|
Groups of 50 or more
|
|
Students
|
25.00
|
Senior Citizens
|
40.00
|
Adults
|
80.00
|