Life Lesson from the Marathon

I wrote this article after Doug ran a half marathon last January. I decided to include this as a prelude to my next post. I particularly enjoyed writing this piece and hope you enjoy it as well.

“I am going to run in the Cebu city marathon.” My heart sank when my husband Doug declared that to me in November. A friend had just told me about how someone she knew died of a heart attack in the Subic Iron Man recently. He was no newbie to the sport and he was only 52 (Doug is 50).

“Do you think you can make it?” I asked Doug.

“Well, I’ve been swimming a mile daily for almost 2 years. I’ve been doing 12 rounds at the Abellana Oval, walking and jogging for about a year and a half. So I think I can do it.” Unconvinced, I thought: Oh Lord, I don’t want to become a widow!

But nothing could deter Doug. Soon after he bought a book on marathon training and religiously jotted down his daily workouts. He read articles, looked through the athletic shops, compared notes with another friend who runs and little by little bought things that he would need: reliable shoes, a heart monitor, proper shorts and shirts, etc. I thought, it’s still a long way off; he may still change his mind.

But he didn’t. I was glad though that he decided to do the half marathon since it was his first time. About a month before the marathon, Doug announced it to the congregation in our church that he was joining and that he would like to do it to raise funds for missions. From some of the facial expressions, I could tell that they did not believe Doug could do it either! Two other guys, half Doug’s age, were also joining. I thought: that’s neat; maybe they can pick him up if he collapses!

A week before the marathon, our youngest daughter Amanda (10 years old) and I were praying before bedtime. I asked the Lord to keep Doug safe, to make sure he does not injure himself, that he won’t collapse from dehydration and that he won’t have a heart attack.

“Mommy, I was so excited about Daddy joining the marathon but after hearing your prayer, I’m now scared!” Amanda exclaimed.

“Well, we have to cover all the bases just to make sure he’ll be ok,” I reasoned out.

On Dec. 30, Doug started feeling sick. It progressively got worse over the weekend. He had some stomach bug and was miserable with some diarrhea. Maybe the Lord is answering my prayer, I thought.

Unfortunately for me, on Jan. 4, he woke up feeling better and when I asked him if he was still going to run, he answered, “Of course!” I couldn’t believe it! I started praying harder!

I attended the carbo-loading party at Ayala Terraces on Jan. 8. I got to meet some of the runners who thought that I was going to run too (“No, I don’t even walk short distance!” I told them.). It was fun listening to some of the speakers and to watch the video, “Spirit of the Marathon.” I went home remembering what one guy from the video said: each marathon is unique because you never know what your body will do to you.

The night before the marathon, I was too excited for Doug, I couldn’t sleep. He went to bed early and got up at 11:30 thinking it was time. I softly stroked his arm. Will this be the last time I will have him beside me alive? I tried to shoo the morbid thoughts from my mind. I prayed and sensed the Lord said that he would be ok. That calmed me.

He got up at 1:30 am and I finally fell asleep. The next thing I knew, the alarm went off at 4:30 am. I hurriedly woke my two girls up. We walked from the house to the corner of Escario and Osmena, across the Capitol building. It was almost 6 am when we saw the 2 young guys from our church running in tandem. Doug was not with them.

“Did you leave Doug behind?” I demanded to know.

“He has a pain in his hamstring,” they both replied.

Oh no, I thought, not good news. I wonder if he will still run the whole way. We waited to see if he was still in the pack. After about another 20 minutes or so, I spotted him doing a light jog. The girls called him and I asked, “Are you going to make it?”

“I hope so. I got this pain after the first kilometer.”

I doubted that he could make it but then after being married 21 years to him, I know that Doug is not a quitter. I was just concerned that he will injure himself seriously. I prayed that the Lord will miraculously take the pain away.

Some runners started to run back towards the finish line in IT Park close to 7 am. We looked at some of their faces and it looked like only sheer determination was causing them to continue running. I started to cry. What about Doug, I wondered.

Two ambulances passed in front of us and I strained my neck, trying to see who was in it.

“Mom, why are you peeping at the ambulances?” Amanda wanted to know.

“Well, you never know,” I told her simply.

One young guy from the church ran back, blowing kisses to us while we cheered him on. About 30 minutes later, the second guy passed us, walking. He said his last sighting of Doug was on the SRP when he was on the return.

I was surprised that he made it that far! It was almost 8:00 am when we spotted him. “How are you? Are you going to make it?” I asked my famous question.

Doug slowed down and approached us so that we could all give him a hug. We got drenched from his sweat.

“I’ve had this pain all along. If I stopped, the pain was worse. I just ran with the pain and prayed all the way,” he told us as he continued his run.

“You can do it,” I encouraged him.

Three hours and forty-six seconds after the start of the marathon, my husband crossed the finish line. I was so proud of Doug, so proud that he finished the race despite the pain in his leg. You see, I am living with cancer and have had to deal with a lot of pain this last year. Many times I felt like the grave would just swallow me up. It seemed easier to give up than to keep on going, fighting to stay alive, believing that I will feel better tomorrow.

It’s true: you never know what your body will do to you but the marathon of life goes on. You have a choice: give up or press on. When Doug ran, I felt like he had identified with my pain and courageously continued with his trek and made it to the finish line. I still don’t know what else my body will do to me but I know that with God's grace and the encouragement of my husband’s experience with the marathon, I will make it. Some day, I too will know the exhilaration of crossing the finish line.

Hospital Duty

I don't know of anyone who likes to stay in the hospital. After being in Fuda Cancer Center for a total of 7 weeks, I do not relish any remembrances of that time, except of course for the wonderful people I met. They made my stay bearable.

Two weeks ago, our son John had high fever (39 degress centigrade and higher) for 3 days straight. On the 4th day, I had him take a blood test and the results showed that his platelet level was low (87 when the lower limit is 150). This confirmed that he had dengue hemorrhagic fever which is caused by a mosquito. We had him admitted that Saturday as the doctor ordered. When we told John what was to happen, he only had 2 questions: Is there a TV in the hospital room and do they have cable? When I answered yes to both questions, he had a smile on his face like he was going on a holiday.

Let me tell you that in the Philippine culture, when someone is admitted, it is expected that a family member will act as a caregiver. The caregiver is always there to attend to the patient's immediate non-medical needs like helping him go to the bathroom, change his clothes, get him food, water, etc. Unfortunately, hospitals don't help in making the caregiver's life any easier. First of all, the caregiver is given a narrow cot for a bed. I took one look at the cot and knew that you should be only 4'10" in height to be able to fit on it. Since I am the shortest adult (5'3") in the family, I volunteered for hospital duty.

Secondly, the hospital makes sure that nobody gets a good 8 hours of sleep while confined. They wake the caregiver up at any time and expect them to be coherent enough to answer all their questions about the patient.

We stayed in a hospital room that had no windows or a clock. Since John was sleeping at odd hours, he never knew what time it was except when I was awake and he would ask me if it was morning, afternoon or night time. A nurse would come it at about 2:30 am, flip the lights on and cheerfully greet: Good morning! I have to take your blood sample. After she would leave, John would switch on the TV. What are you doing, I would ask. Mom, it's morning already. John its not even 3 am, turn that TV off and go back to sleep!

Another thing we had to get used to was having countless of people walk in and out of your room. There are untold number of nurses, nursing interns, nursing aides, doctors, residents, etc. It seemed like we never saw the same nurse twice in our 5 day stay at the hospital.

John's fever finally broke early Monday morning. The doctor informed us that this was the most crucial time because they expected his platelets to drop and we had to watch out for signs of bleeding, externally or internally. The doctor asked if he had rashes. John showed the doctor that he had a mild rash on his foot but did not complain about itching.

True enough, John's platelets dropped to 30. The doctor told us that although he had no fever, no bleeding and looked well, they could not discharge him until his platelets count will go up to 90. They had to draw blood from John twice a day to monitor this. On Tuesday, it had gone up only minimally to about 39. In my mind, the taxi meter was ticking faster. The longer we stayed in the hospital, the more expensive it was going to get! In the afternoon, the number had gone up to 47.

I was getting antsy. I knew that we had stayed too long in the hospital already. First of all, John started to like hospital food. During the first few days, he would look at his plate and ask me to identify what was on it. I looked at something that resembled a dirty maroon rag and told him it was corned beef. He looked at it hesitantly until I insisted that he eat it because we are paying for it. Now, he ate everything on his plate, including the overcooked vegetables.

Secondly, it felt like the cot I was sleeping on was getting shorter everyday. Either it was shrinking or I was growing taller.

Thirdly, I started to resent being woken up for the nth time during the night. One time at about 2 am, the nurse came in and told me that the doctor had prescribed an anti-histamine for John's itchy rash. I told her that he did not need it because it wasn't itchy at all. "But the doctor said..." we went back and forth for a while and then I said, "Why don't you just take it yourself!" and then rolled over and went back to sleep.

That was the last straw. I was turning into the big bad wolf! I was ready to devour the next nurse that would enter the room! Fortunately, morning came and so did the doctor with good news: John's platelets count was now over 100! I was never so happy to go home!

I was so looking forward to going to sleep in our large bed when Mandee came down with a 39 degree centigrade fever that night. After giving her a paracetamol and praying for her, I cringed at the possibility that she may also have dengue and would need hospitalization. Oh well, I comforted myself, at least I'll get to see "I love Raymond"on cable TV again!

for my mom's birthday

Last July 25, my mom marked a milestone: she turned diamond! ( That sounds better than putting an age which she will probably disown.) We set up a blog for her and asked our family and friends of hers to post their greetings for her. We had a theme of: My unforgettable memory of Aleli is...We are happy to hear from some people whom she has not seen in years or had contact with. Both my brothers waxed eloquent in expressing their love for mom. That was a real eye opener for me and it warmed my heart to read how they felt for her.

Below, is my post to my mom:

As long as I can remember, my mom's beauty haunted me since I was a little girl. People would tell me: "Your mom is very beautiful (and add rather apologetically) but you look like your dad." So I grew up aware that I could never match my mom's good looks. That thought disappointed me to no end but as I grew, I became aware that even if I would never be a beauty like her, at least I was attractive in my own little way.

When I got married, mom was already living in LA for several years. Doug and I had planned our wedding up to the last detail. Mom and dad did not arrive in Manila until a few days before the wedding. She had no idea what my gown would look like nor how I would have my hair fixed.

I dressed up in a friend's house where I was boarding for the last few months. Sandra stayed with me on the eve of my wedding because the make-up artist was also going to do her face. We travelled together in the bridal car.

When I got to the church, Sandra and Carlo left to make sure that every one was ready for the processional. I stayed in the car and waited for my cue. Mom came down the church steps and peeped in the car window. I lowered the window and said, "Hi mom." She looked at me with a big smile and gushed: "You're so pretty!" I couldn't believe it! Mom's first compliment to me about my looks!

When I walked down that aisle, I must have exuded a special glow not only because I was marrying the man I love but also because I was complimented by the most beautiful person in my life: my mom.

Happy birthday mom! No matter what age, you will always be beautiful---inside and out!

Sharpe Update July 2010

Summer this year was a blast! Of course many of you know that my mother and siblings were in Cebu for a reunion of sorts. What a wonderful addition to our scrapbook of memories! Another highlight was the trip to Kota Kinabalu where we met the other missionaries of International Pentecostal Holiness Church (IPHC), the denomination which oversees our local church, Church of Our King. Although it was our first time to meet many of them, we felt very welcome and loved. The kids and Doug had a chance to visit Siargao (in Mindanao Island) just before the classes started. They tried surfing and did well on the long boards, including Mandee! My cousins from Manila and Davao also visited us for a few days. It was lots of fun catching up on what has happened since we last saw each other a decade ago!

Summer is over and we are back to life as usual. John (3rd year high school) and Mandee (grade 5) are still in PCGS. John wanted to join the Homemakers Club because he is interested in cooking. Unfortunately about 100 other boys applied for the same club and the teacher has limited the membership. If he can't cook, then he decided to try out for the next thing he likes to do: sing. He auditioned and was accepted into the glee club. Mandee is also with the elementary glee club and is an assistant scout leader.

Jonina decided to shift courses and schools to Mass Communications in the University of San Jose Recolletos. She has been thinking about doing this since last year as she was not quite satisfied with the Special Education program in the other university. We feel that this course is more in line with her giftings. She enjoys writing and is thinking about going into film making.

Some of you may have been aware that Ben had hoped to do a YWAM Discipleship Training School in YWAM Maui, Hawaii this September with his cousin. Unfortunately, he was not accepted for that school because he is underage (he turns 17 this Oct. and YWAM would prefer to accept 18 year olds and older). We wrote the registrar to reconsider their decision and made this a "fleece." When they decided not to reconsider, Ben immediately enrolled as an engineering student at the University of San Carlos. Except for his long travel to the campus, he seems to adjust well to college life since he has a couple of high school and church friends in the same university.

Doug is busy as the church has relaunched small groups this month of July. He has been preaching on the importance of community. We had a formal launching last Sunday with an "I Love COOK (Church of Our King)" campaign. We sold t-shirts, had balloons, set up the sanctuary like a cozy home, sang a special ditty for the campaign, had a game, snacks and time to sign up for the different age cell groups. It was a fun time and we were happy with the results of the sign ups.

He has been traveling as well for meetings with regards to YWAM. He is part of the national leadership Team of 4 and is in charge of pastoral care. He recently finished teaching at our DTS last week and is considering an invitation to Cambodia in January.. In June, YWAM Visayas gathered together to celebrate YWAM International's 50 years. We had a great time remembering the past, celebrating the present and praying in new bases and staff for the future. I had not seen many of our staff since April 2009 so it was a great time for me to reconnect and to thank them for all their prayers.

Many have written to ask how I am doing health-wise. Well, I am so happy to inform you that the oral chemo meds have been working! My large tumors have shrunk and the smaller tumors are getting softer and are also shrinking. The Lord is good! I am still experiencing some side effects but it has not been traumatic at all. I have to keep tabs on my blood counts just to make sure that my immune system is not so compromised. On July 7, I had a blood transfusion to put my numbers up.

Another good news is that I have now gained some weight! I am 48K (a little over 105 lbs) and am always hungry! I hope I can gain more. I now also have more hair than Doug! Doug said it was weird for him to wake up and see another bald head in bed! I hope that in a month or two, I will be able to go without a wig or a head scarf. The boys can't wait until its long enough to spike!

My energy level is good and I am able to do some errands or do the groceries. I try to pace my activities and give myself lots of time to rest. I certainly feel like I have my life back and am so thankful to the Lord for his grace, mercy and loving kindness! I am always thankful for you all who have been so faithful in prayer and giving!

Something to pray for:

The expenses for the oral chemo meds and a monthly biphosphate infusions for the bone metastasis have been draining our limited resources. There are also other expenses such as lab. tests, supplements, injections, doctors fees, blood transfusions, etc. We are thankful for how the Lord has been faithfully meeting our needs and we continue to look to him.

Doug usually returns to Canada every two years to reconnect with family, supporters and our home church. In our present situation he says it looks doubtful. As always we will leave it in God's hands, He knows the best timing for all things.

With much gratitude for God's goodness,

Love

Doug, Marla and family

__X Education

The announcement of the Department of Education that they will include sex education in the basic curriculum stirred up a hornet's nest. Groups pro and anti started hurling arguements at each other. Lawsuits are even being filed to nullify the DepEd order. One proponent said that if the word sex is so offensive, maybe they can just call it gender education. The antis would not have it. A rose by any other name will still smell like a rose. Sex by any other name will still be malodorous to some nostrils. The antis want sex education to be the parents responsibility. I totally agree except for one good reason: my mother never talked to me about sex so how could I talk to my kids about it!

Well, actually, my mom did try to tell me the story of the birds and the bees when I was about 10. I remember she was reading a magazine and then called me over(in retrospect, she must have been reading an article on how to talk to your child about sex without offending them). She first asked me if I knew where babies come from. I told her no and I should have added, I don't really care because the thought never crossed my mind. Anyway, she started to tell me that daddy would plant an invisible seed in mommy's tummy and that seed would grow into a baby. While she was talking symbolically, I was thinking literally. I imagined my dad going really close to my mom, holding this invisible seed (from who knows where!) between his thumb and forefinger and pushing it in my mom's tummy. Much like a farmer planting a seed on the ground. Nine months after, a baby is born. My mom never asked me if I had any questions. If she did, I wouldn't know where to begin!

All I know is, after that little talk, I made sure I was never too close to a boy because he may plant a little invisible seed in my tummy without me knowing about it! What a tragedy that would be! Not knowing who the father of your baby is! With that as my introduction to sex, I knew I wasn't the expert who could talk to my kids about it.

Jonina later told me that one day in elementary school, a classmate bragged that she knew how babies are made. She then revealed the secret of copulation to the curious. Jonina was flabergasted! "What! My mom had 4 kids and she never did that!" Wow, the Virgin Mary could only boast of one immaculate conception. I had four!

Since I pleaded ignorance, like a good dad, Doug took the responsibility of educating our children about sex. He told me that his talk with them was brief and straight to the point. Like me, none of them had questions. I think they were thinking in their minds: why would anyone want to do that?

Amanda just started grade 5 and for their first science lesson, they had to learn the different sexual organs and the process of reproduction. Since they were going to have a test, I had to review her (I couldn't back out on this). I tried to be as clinical as possible. Except for a "ewwwhh, gross!" and covering a detailed picture of the male genitalia with her hands when I turned the page, she kept her thoughts to herself. When Jonina learned what Mandee's science lesson was all about, she teased her about already knowing about sex, Mandee looked perplexed and asked, "I do?"

Just what I suspected! The lesson just flew over her head and she had no idea what all those body parts were leading to. Maybe my mom's story about the invisible seed may interest her more...

Letters from Amanda

Amanda came into our lives like a P.S. in a letter. Our third child John was turning 4 and ready to tackle pre-school and I was turning 40 that year: too old to have babies and too young to be a grandma or so I thought. But a month before giving birth to John, I just had a great desire in my heart to have another baby girl whom I planned to name Amanda which meant "much loved." I kept that longing a secret in my heart and wondered if indeed the Lord would bless our household with another girl.

When I found out I was pregnant, the kids were so excited! Jonina (then 9 years old) put in her request for a baby girl. Ben (6) wanted a baby boy and John was happy enough to get a baby pig! When Amanda was born and Doug broke the news to the kids: Jonina was elated, Ben was disappointed, John shrugged his shoulders and suggested, "Let's call her skunk!" But as soon as they laid their eyes on her, Amanda (we also call her Mandee) was much loved by us all.

Today Mandee is 11 years old and is raring to be 18! She still likes to play jackstones, tag, Go fish and thinks wearing a bra is so embarrasing. She can't wait for her feet to grow so that she can wear my shoes. She loves Taylor Swift, Demi Lovato, the Jonas Brothers and American Idol. She is always on facebook and chats with her classmates and friends on YM. She loves to sing and hopes one day to join the church worship team.

In the school where she goes, they have a diary which is used as a journal for the kids to jot down thoughts and happenings in their daily lives. Mandee always addresses her letters as: Dear Diary but actually, she is writing to her teacher. I love reading those letters because it gives me a glimpse of her heart. They are sometimes funny and amusing. Other times, they are thoughtful and revealing.

Let me let you in on some of her letters:

Dear Diary,
...Yahoo! We have PE today. I like PE. How about you teacher? You like PE? What was your favorite subject when you were a kid?

...It is my sister's birthday today. She is 18 now. I wish it was my birthday so I can be 10. I like to be 10.

...(do) you like to be with your boyfriend? Do you want to go on a date with him? Do you like to be with him often? (teacher replied: all yes! hahaha!)

...check what you like: ____cute boys ______cool boys _____smart boys

...Are you close to D (name of teacher's boyfriend)? Can you tell me more about him? I want to know more please. (If you do) I will tell you (who) my crush (is).

...I wonder what kind of pop star I look like? I would like to look like someone who is pretty!

...Teacher, do you want to get married soon? What age do you want to ge married? Me I want to get married at 28. My mom got married at 30! For me that is old.

...What did you like to do when you were small? Did you like to go to school or did you hate school? Me, I kind of hate school. I liked it when I was in pre-school because my mom was my teacher so it was fun. She has her own school and I went there.

...Today is a bad day. Tina cried. I feel sad for Tina --- always doing her best and people are not listening to her. I wish people would just listen.

...Do you like a husband who is kind or handsome or funny or all (that I mentioned)?

...Well I need to tell you something. My mom's tumor was getting smaller and smaller and that was good. But this month, it got bigger. I touched it and it is really big. Our family is giving out newsletters to the people who are praying for my mom. I am soooo sad :( but I know God will heal my mom. But please pray for my mom. She needs prayers. Our family needs people to fight the battle for my mom's life. I feel like crying teacher.

...Teacher, thank you for praying for my family. I love you teacher! I really hope my mom will get all better.

...I wonder why Korean singers are so popular. Their songs are so annoying for me.

...Today R hit me on the head (Mandee then describes in detail all that happened)...It hurt so much and then I choked him. The end.

...I wish I didn't need to go to Chinese tutor...but I (would) rather play with my friends because I am still a kid. I want to be free and enjoy life. Teacher do you think that's good for us kids?

The winds of time flip through the pages of our lives. Dust settles on teddy bears, Barbie dolls and pocelain tea sets. Very soon, high heels and make up will be her favorite things. In a blink of an eye, my little girl will give way to a lovely young lady. Someday she will fall in love, marry a lucky young man and have her own babies. When that happens, I pray that I will be around to share her happiness and cry myself silly at every happy occassion. When times are tough, I want to be there to hold her hand and tell her everything will be ok.

But until that time, I will cherish the little girl who still wants me to tuck her in bed and tell her stories of when she was a baby.

Raising Teenagers

My dear friend and fellow-blogger, Lolette suggested a topic for my next post: the joy of raising teenagers. Joy...teenagers? It seems like an oxymoron. Is there joy in raising teenagers? Challenge seems like a better word. Insanity is a close second.

Teenagers are bundles of contradictions. They want you to treat them like adults but they act like kids half their age. They want their freedom but don't give them any responsibilities because, "Mom, that's your job! I'm just a kid!" They think its ok when they walk around the house in their underwear like when they were toddlers. When it comes to their clothes, your opinions hold no candle to what they think is hip and acceptible.

Just recently our two teenage sons came home 2 hours after their curfew. Like any good parent, we discipline our children with the hope that they will learn to live within the boundaries we put around them, in order to protect them and help them make wise choices for themselves when they grow up. No matter what age, discipline is never fun for a kid. When I started having kids, people told me to beware of the terrible twos. When it comes to discipline, I would rather have 20 two year olds anytime instead of my 2 teenage sons for 3 reasons: first, most toddlers are less than 3 feet tall which makes it easier for a mom to take a child over her knee into spanking position. Secondly, you don't have to explain to a toddler why you are punishing him. All you have to do is blurt out a sharp "No!" and whack his little hand or his little behind. Thirdly, because a toddler's vocabulary is limited, he can't talk back to you.

Now, lets go to my 2 teenage sons: one is 6 ft. and the other 5'10" (includes spiked hair). It would be pretty cumbersome for me to try to pick them up and put them in spanking position. In fact, they could easily pick up my small 5'3" frame without much effort! Whacking their behinds? I may break my hand because after working out in the gym, they brag about having buns of steel! Secondly, they want a precise, logical explanation why they must be punished. I'm beginning to think a year of law school may be good training for mothers of future teeners. Thirdly, they can talk your head off, turning every stone to come up with every reason why they should not be punished. For every half sentence you give, expect 5 sentences from them. Before you know it, you're mentally exhausted and you can't remember why you were disciplining them in the first place! Give me those toddlers anytime!

Going back to their infraction of curfew-busting: my husband Doug talked to the boys a little at the breakfast table to remind them that their action the night before could not go without consequence. They would have to be grounded. He had to leave for work so I was left behind like Daniel in the lions den.

"Mom, how long is our grounding?" asked Ben.

"Well, I wanted it to be until you're 35 but dad thought I should be more merciful so we decided 1 month is enough."

"What! One month for coming home late only once!" Ben could not believe his fate.

"Actually, that covers all the other times when you should have been grounded in the past but we just let it go."

"Mom, isn't there a verse in the bible that says you can't do that!" All of a sudden, my son who doesn't read the bible unless we ask him to has become biblical! I remember when he was 5, I asked him, "What does the bible say about what you should do when someone hits you on one cheek?" Ben answered, "Hit him on the other!" I should have recognized the signs early on. Now, he wrinkled his forehead, trying to remember a verse.

"Do you mean the 11th commandment?," I tried to help him remember, "The one that says, Parents thou shalt not punish your children for more than 1 sin at a time? Sorry, that verse doesn't exist."

"I know: its don't keep a record of sins!" Ben sounded triumphant that he finally remembered something.

"Hmmm, that does not include parents! Parents have to remember their children's sins so that they can punish them," I concluded. If he can't give me the reference of the verse, I can just give him my interpretation of it!

"Mom, one month is not fair!" John blurted out. This son has a future as a trial lawyer at best or a police interrogator. Many times I long for the days when he was only 1 year old and all he could say was "mama." Then, it was like music to my ears. Now, when he calls my name, the hair on my nape stands on end and I hold my breath for what comes next!

"John, life is never fair so live with that!" I told him philosophically.

"Is that in the bible?" he asked.

"No, its from the School of Hard knocks!"

After going through more grumblings, I found my mind wandering. I looked at my two sons and asked myself: did I really give birth to these two? I was an obedient child so how could I give birth to two rebellious boys? I began to come up with a fantasy: maybe my "real sons" were switched at birth! Somewhere in the city, my "real sons" are obedient kids who never bust their curfew, they study without being nagged, read their books and fill their notebooks with notes (not graffiti), receive every academic award in school, never run out of allowance, are kind and considerate to their sisters...

All of a sudden, my mind goes back to the present when I feel a kiss on my cheek.
"I love you mom," says Ben.

"I love you too son."

A little later, I hear John call out, "Mom!" The hair on my nape stands and I am holding my breath for what comes next.

"Give me a hug, " John says.

I stretch out my arms and we hug. John gives me a kiss on the top of my head.

I smile and tell myself: until I get reunited with my "real sons," I think I'll just keep these two: they may not be so bad after all.