When I was a kid I couldn’t wait to be grown-up. ‘Cuz adults have their own money, don’t have to obey their parents and they drive.

As a teenager I couldn’t wait to meet my future husband. …And I’d have a house of my own. And work and earn lots of money.

As a wife I couldn’t wait to have kids. ‘Cuz you have this feeling that something’s missing and you’re getting older, and that when you have kids it seems like you’re full of wisdom and you know everything…

And as a working mom you couldn’t wait to be a stay-at-home mom because stay-at-home moms have really clean homes, perfect kids, healthy meals and quality time overflowing…

I’m grown-up now, and married, knows how to drive, has money but not much. I already have kids but sometimes feel I’m neither wise nor sensible. I’m a stay-at-home mom but still find it elusive to keep a clean house or find quality time. Perfection is ridiculous.

So now I’m a mother. And I feel old. I took a picture of myself and zoomed it thousand times larger to view those lines in my eyes. I’m old. And I’m flat-chested. It took me a while to notice, I’m kinda’ losing breastmilk now that Maia is turning two. It’s Mother’s Day – pamper me rotten – I want a boob job! (Not.) And botox! Hey ho let’z go! (Actually I got myself a pair of super wide hippie bell bottoms.)

Believe me, I’m not vain. But now that I’m a mom (and in my 30’s) I really try hard not to fall into the caricature of a slovenly, messy, oily, sloppy, frumpy lady in the house. I have always been afraid to hear, “OMG look at her she’s so losyang na.” Especially in class reunions! Shallow, shallow, shallow, but face it, it’s really an issue, and if you heard it you’d get smacked in the face. If you let your physical appearance slide, it can cause poor self-esteem; this is one of those common traps that married women fall into. Mamas, it’s so important not to lose touch with the physical you! Be pretty! Smell pretty! Feel pretty!

One thing I remember about my gorgeous mom is how she went through the getting-ready thing everyday even if she wasn’t going anywhere. When my sisters and I talked about it we realized that our mom felt more put together, seemed to accomplish more, and everyone we bump into remember her this way – beautiful, fashionable, happy. But then of course there’s nothing wrong with being laid back, especially on blustery days when it’s just so perfect to wear sweats and all, barefoot and all. Heavenly.

And then the kids. My beautiful, beautiful high heels are growing molds and starting to get a life of its own since the kids came. When I was still single and I’d see a mom with a toddler whose hand is harnessed, I’d whisper, Child abuse.” But now I figured you really haven’t experienced hardcore parenthood until you’ve chased a two-year old down the supermarket aisle or in the sandy playground in high heels. And you’d curse and swear never to wear high heels again. I’d shout in protest, “THIS IS MOM ABUSE!”

So who’s complaining? I love the mommy mafia thing. I love the kids. This is my real job, and my home number is my work number. The refrigerator is covered with kindergarten artworks, walls graffiti’d with permanent markers, I couldn’t believe I’d get this far. Having kids used to be so hypothetical to me and I used to think childbirth shatters the romance of motherhood. But it’s really when you get there you’d realize that being a mother is all-encompassing and forever. …How wonderful life is while you’re in the world.

Happy Mother’s Day. Hope you’ll have a good one.