My son, Daniel, playing under a cherry blossom tree at Golden Gate Park

After knowing that we live in the cherry district here in the Bay Area made me all the more excited to find “remnants” of cherry farms. Whenever I see a tree with burgeoning light pink flowers, I get excited so easily and always ask my husband if what we just saw was cherry blossoms. Though I’ve seen a gazillon photos of this flower, I wasn’t sure what it looked like up close, and that reminds me of the first time I set foot on U.S. soil some nine months ago: I’ve seen the United States in every TV show, Hollywood movie, and magazine but, in actuality, I didn’t have a clue of what this country was like. And while I consider myself pretty much a cosmopolitan, there are things that still surprise me up to this date, which I don’t know how to react to.

Going back to cherry blossoms, I told myself that I got to see the actual flowers soon. Needless to say, I had my own countdown to spring and, for me, the apex of my spring experience would be to take photos of cherry blossoms. This might strike you as paltry but, sometimes, things don’t have to be grand to mean a lot to me.

And there is no better place to enjoy the beauty of cherry blossoms than San Francisco. In fact, being in San Francisco adds more charm to the whole experience of capturing the essence of this flower.

Taken near Japanese Tea Garden

Victorian houses and cherry blossoms are what make San Francisco unique

The rendezvous was at Starbucks along with 25 other “leisure walkers.” Starbucks is a smart location to congregate because it is central enough for people to find and it’s also very accessible to BART. If you also love coffee and haven’t had breakfast yet, you won’t really mind waiting here.

The Garden Court, Palace Hotel, San Francisco

The Historic Palace Hotel

We started our 5-hour walk with a visit at Palace Hotel that sits high and mighty on the axis of San Francisco. The hotel’s facade doesn’t exactly give away what it had gone through since its rebuilt in 1909, shortly after the 1906 San Francisco earthquake. The Garden Court, which used to be a carriage entrance back in the early 1900s, is now converted into a dining room and serves as the focal point of the hotel. The Victorian-inspired embellishments remind me of the opulent lifestyle and the glorious days of the Gold Rush, which made the hotel popular among elite travelers as well. Without a doubt, this hotel was one of the most beautiful hotels in the early development years of San Francisco, as Andrew Carnegie aptly eulogized in his ‘Round the World diary:

There is no other hotel building in the world equal to this. The court of the Grand at Paris is poor compared to that of the Palace. Its general effect at night, when brilliantly lighted, is superb; its furniture, rooms and appointments are all fine, but then it tells you all over it was built to “whip all creation,” and the millions of its lucky owner enabled him to triumph.

New Montgomery entrace to Palace Hotel

Palace Hotel has shelves of memorabilia on opposite sides of the Garden Court, near the entrance. The two shelves showcase copies of the hotel’s first menu book, photos of the hotel before the San Francisco earthquake, photos of the first chef, and the utensils used by Pres. Warren Harding during his last supper. (The not-so-popular president was allegedly poisoned and later died at the penthouse of this hotel.)

The first Palace Hotel menu book

Palace Hotel, San Francisco - Early 1900s wine list

The silverware used by Pres. Harding the night before he died

This hotel is worthy of a visit if you want to see ‘remnants’ of San Francisco history. Other notable historic events at this hotel include:

1891: The last King of Hawaii died at the old Palace hotel

1919: Woodrow Wilson gave speeches in the Garden Court in support of the Treaty of Versailles and the League of Nations

1923: Warren Harding died on the eight floor suite overlooking Market Street

1945: Palace Hotel hosted a banquet to mark the opening session of the United Nations.

Anyway, Daniel turned two last month and we celebrated it with my husband’s relatives. As opposed to the grand celebration that we had during Daniel’s first birthday, we had a simple one this time. The birthday boy blew his candles without help (well with some coaching from daddy) and clapped his hands while our relatives looked over.

Daniel’s is a big boy now. He’s also very smart and knows words such as ‘infinity’ and ‘scrumptious’, can count in seven languages, can memorize his alphabet and numbers up to 50, can identify the things around him, knows the president and the secretary of state, and is a big fan of American Idol! He’s also semi-retired from watching Brainy Baby and Baby Einstein– his favorite shows now are Dora the Explorer, Blues Clues and Go Diego, Go!

We often check out some kid-friendly locations in the Bay Area for our active toddler. Here’s a recent photo taken at SadieDey cafe in Oakland.

Enjoying the fountain

We recently took Daniel to Sausalito along with my in-laws and my husband’s uncle and aunt from Tulsa. From the time we left off Embarcadero on a ferry to Sausalito to our way back home late in the afternoon, he didn’t cry once. Yes, not even once! My husband’s aunt and uncle were very impressed. They said they’ve never seen any toddler as patient as Daniel. I couldn’t agree more!

Surrounded by beautiful flowers

I thought he did a pretty great job traveling with a bunch of adults: he enjoyed sightseeing, danced to street music, pointed at whatever caught his attention, and asked for milk or water if he needed it. I’m so proud of my son! For sure, there will be many road trips with him to come.

Dreaming of Christmas

But it’s cold in Lake Chabot, which makes the surroundings appear gloomy. I expected the sun, but not the gloom. I was close to shivering when i realized I didn’t bring a sweater.Good thing Amarind always brings one, even when the sun is high. He said the weather in the Bay Area is fickle. Now I know exactly what he meant.

In the tropics, I wouldn’t be caught sitting under the sun. I’ve never ever seen anyone willingly sit under the sun. We do everything so we’re not exposed to the heat: we use umbrella as our portable shade, wear scarves and wide-brimmed hats, or stay at the mall until dusk. People don’t like the sun. In fact, when I was in grade school, my teacher made those stubborn students — those who didn’t do their homework and didn’t listen to the lecture — stand under the sun and, if they’ve been stubborn the nth time around, kneel on mung beans under the lunch time heat and endure the pain. I dreaded that punishment so I tried my hardest to always be first in class.

Now, two decade later, I bask under the sunshine especially when it gets colder. I love it: it’s like having your own heater system outdoors minus the bill.

I wish the ground were not too wet so I didn’t have to wear rubber shoes. Meanwhile, I’m dreaming of these:

My husband on top of a hill, facing Lake Chabot

I had a series of breakthroughs this week; I encountered some eye-openers that I may have known before but didn’t really bother to apply them in my life.

I was one of those who always say, “I have no time” or, “I am busy.” I always had this silly excuse that I am swamped with work and couldn’t be bothered to do something else. There were times when I felt that my days were too short and wished that I could stretch them longer so I could accomplish more. I had a habit of equating a fruitful day with how many hours I spent working. I forewent time management and ignored other things that equally demanded my attention. I had little time for my family even though I work from home. I was just there with them and not really for them. I always walked fast hoping that I’d reach the finish line sooner.

I completely missed the point: I forgot to walk slowly and feel the air pass through my nose — I even forgot how clean and fresh air is on this side of the world. I forgot how water can be so refreshing and how soap suds help wash out a day’s worth of problems. I forgot to wear a big smile on my face when walking — it was all about walking with my head up high, literally. I forgot how to smile and appreciate smiles from new acquaintances. Yes, I was missing out on so many things.

Then I received news that a close relative died last week. He was 31 years old. Only two years older than I am.

His death came as a shock. I pondered about it for days to the point of finding it hard to sleep at night. Sometimes I feel like I’m having a bad dream and want to snap back to reality right away. But it isn’t a dream. He’s actually gone and it’s painful to think of it every time. Then I feel a surge of regret: I feel that he could have done so much better with what he had. I feel that he could have had a brighter future waiting for him. But I now I lost all the chance to know. All I could think of is one life wasted. What if I took the time off to share with him my thoughts about life? What if I spared five minutes of my time to encourage him to do better and try harder? What if at one point during some of our meetings I told him that he can do it? What if I took the initiative to invite him to dinner and made him realize that his presence is also important?

Sometimes all it takes is a kind gesture or some encouraging words to change someone’s course of life. It doesn’t have to take long yet I failed flatly in giving away a portion of my time.

“It’s never too late,” I thought to myself. The good news is, we can always make corrections in our lives.

I now have a newfound respect for people and things around me. Suddenly, I feel blessed and content. I realized that the whole point of life is not working so hard so we can enjoy it later. In fact, we can enjoy it now. We have to enjoy it now. Life it is already beautiful. We just have to claim it. We just have to say “I have the most amazing life!” and feel the cool breeze blow against our cheeks.

Two men Boating on Lake Chabot

So we are in the process of changing our routine and I am happy with the outcome so far. This week, my husband and I took a day off from work, packed our backpacks, and explored the trails around the hilly part of Lake Chabot. We sat on a bench facing the lake and looked at how magnificent the view was. We looked at how lives unveil before us: a man patiently teaching his son how to fish, a goatherder and his loyal dog trying their best to keep their herd of goats together, a middle-aged woman walking her two dogs, a man riding his bicycle, ducks swimming past each other, a park ranger telling lake stories to a woman, some squirrels crossing our paths and climbing trees as fast as they could…

Our view of the lake

We also took Daniel to a school field nearby and let him play in the playground all by himself and get dirty.

We also walked and ran for more than 25 km and had the most engaging conversations in our lives.

We tithed, prayed hard, and launched a new business.

We are happy of the change and we are determined to keep going. This is just the beginning.

Photo Credits: Althea Tan

Blogging from my iPhone.

Daniel doesn’t miss his Yaya and while I am still trying to figure out whether “not missing” is a good thing or not, I also doubt if he even realizes losing his nanny in the first place. It seems that life goes on for Daniel and his days go by nary a word spoken about his trusty nanny. I guess I wouldn’t want my son to start crying profusely in the middle of the night and demanding to fly his Yaya to the Bay Area. So in this case, it makes sense to say that “not missing” is a good thing.

When we left Iloilo (God, the mere mention of the place makes me want to catch the next flight out of San Francisco) more than a month ago, Daniel brought with him basic words that he picked-up from his Yaya, the people around him (mostly our relatives), and from his deep personal attachment to food or anything that looks edible. One of the first words that he masterfully enunciates in different accents is apple. I didn’t know that apple, if repeated a thousand times over in one day at the rate of five repetitions per second, can be pleasing to ears especially if it is formed out of the lips of my dear son.

One night, at a dinner with friends from the Web 2.0 world, Daniel gleefully referred to a Yahoo engineer’s balding head as apple. Most of us in the room thought it was ridiculously funny so I wondered if the guy was offended one bit or whether he was also amused despite the fact that his smooth, depilated crowning glory was the center of Daniel’s (and everyone’s) hilarity. I thought he was a real sport and very forgiving at that since Daniel literally spent the entire night actively pacing back and forth, stomping his feet on the carpet-covered floor, and ceaselessly pointing at the guy’s head and boomed on top of his lungs: “Apple! Apple! Apple!” What seemed to be just a reference to the head became the person’s new monicker. (I think Apple is a nice nickname for a techie guy.) At the end of the night, the guy was merely reduced to being an apple. We parted ways with Daniel waving his hands saying, “Buhbye Apple.”

My son will grow up a very charismatic man, no doubt about it. At 20-months-old, he already has manifestations of being a politician: he can charm you with his sweet, puerile smile; he renders everyone in awe with his mastery of the alphabet, numbers, and colors; he can melt your heart by squinting his right eye, and he can shake his booty to no end. And once he starts dancing and waving his hands up in the air, the game is over: he steals the whole scene and turns himself into an instant hit. He doesn’t care whether he’s at my Zumba class, at a boutique, or at a park as long as he can wiggle his hips and flip his fingers like doing flamenco dance.

One afternoon at a local park, Daniel got up and started dancing in front of an Indie singer. Then, almost in a snap of his fingers, he got two very tall and bulky men to cheer for him. We just stood there as spectators with occasional glances from our little dancer. He enjoyed all the attention and he liked it when people clap their hands towards the end, to signal that they are pleased or as if to say, wiggle it some more. Needless to day, we do enjoy all the compliments afterwards.

Daniel sweeps me off my feet sometimes especially when he looks at me with astonishing intelligence and begins to utter “Mommy” in his sweetest voice while tucked in my side and cuddled in my arms before bedtime. Actually, he thinks that mommy is a funny word because it rhymes with puppy, a new word that he learned from his newfound Vietnamese friend, Khoi. I have to make sure that I relay a very clear message to him that Mommy is not a member of the canine family or something that resembles a puppy, but someone who sings him lullabies at night, shares warm bubble baths with him, and gives him comforting hugs and kisses when he gets naughty and accidentally bumps his head on God-knows-what hard object. I guess, based on his smile and caresses, he knows that I am Mommy and he gets lots of love when he is with me.

I’ve also taken the initiative to learn to prepare simple but meaningful meals from scratch since we arrived in the Bay Area. (I am vehemently opposed to the bottled, processed, and sugary food—the thought of feeding them to my son makes me feel guilty to no end.) I’ve also bought a set of educational videos for him instead of buying very expensive toys that end up being tossed in the trashcan. While he enjoys his videos and can’t let a day pass without watching them, I make sure that Daniel gets a lot of human interaction from people around him. For a short period of time, he has grown into a smart, healthy, and happy toddler, and his personality is infectious. He can also recite the alphabet, count from one to 10, and can identify colors such as black, green, blue, red, white, purple, and white. He also added some words to his vocabulary such as Angkor Watt, balloon, puppy, mommy, papa, dog, flower, corn, wheat, milk, khaki, and a few more that he’s waiting to unravel to us. He can also spell-out words from a food label, nametags, or from a store’s signage.

I guess, with the help of my husband, I am doing a great job as a parent. Two years ago, I was uncertain if I can fulfill my new role of being a mom to an unborn child but now, I swell with pride to tell others that I have a wonderful 20-month-old. I cannot even begin to describe how grateful I am for having Daniel in my life. It’s just different. And, unless you become a parent, you won’t totally understand what I’m trying to say.

When Daniel retires at night, I take a moment to look at my precious one hugging his pillow tight and in deep slumber. Then I give myself a pat on the back for doing a great job raising this adorable boy.

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