When I was 2 my dad came by himself to the United States leaving my mom and me in the Philippines. My parents decided to immigrate to the US in hopes of a better life and more opportunities for their children, and to achieve that American dream. My dad came first to look for a job, save up some money, find a place to live, and essentially ‘set up shop’ for my mom and I so we could be comfortable and set when we arrived. I was told by my mom that I stopped talking the day my dad left because I was heartbroken he was gone. I’m not sure how long I decided not to speak but I know it was quite awhile.
My dad is an introvert like myself. He is a man of few words but he is also a man you can count on to be there for you when you need him, no questions asked. Throughout my youth there were times my dad had two jobs to help support us but he never missed a dance recital, piano recital, parent/teacher conference, athletic event, school play, etc. I grew up confident that he and my mom (who was also a working mom) loved me and supported my every endeavor. I don’t remember a time when I wondered if one or the other or both would be there, it was never even a question. In college, my dad would come visit once a month or once every other month for an afternoon to eat and shop with me, just to hang out. When I got cancer, all three times my dad was the one driving the car to take me to the hospital for my surgery with my mom in the passenger seat. Now my dad 
does the same for my kids. He tries to be at most of the games and he drives them around too. Yes, a man of few words, but his actions speak volumes of his love and support.
What makes a great dad? Someone who loves not just through words, but through actions. He lifts his kids up with support along with sacrifice. He makes sure his kids know they can lean on him and not question whether he will show up or not. He disciplines when necessary but also makes his child feel protected and safe. He does not compete with his kids for attention or accolades, no, he mostly takes the back seat. A dad is someone who is supposed to give us a glimpse of what our Father in Heaven is like. I know there are many situations out there out of our control. There are moms having to be both mom and dad, step dads, grand dads, uncles, and even friends who have stepped up to be that ‘fatherly’ role necessary for some. God bless you and thank you, we all need you. Anyone can be a father but it takes someone special to be a dad (quote from somewhere I heard). Thanks dad for being an example of love, commitment, and sacrifice. 
No lipstick today, just Chapstick because my dad usually has one close by. Cheers and Happy Father’s Day!
are the struggles with our kids, the days when no amount of hair products or make up can camouflage a bad night’s sleep, the arguments with a boss or spouse, you know, real life. So on this Mother’s Day, I choose to let go of the constant struggle to keep up with the perfection I see on social media because the daily struggles of life, a job, and keeping up with teens is hard enough. The flowers, the candy, breakfast…all beautiful but for me the kids are a special gift from God and what I want most of all this mother’s day and really every day is for them to know without a doubt that they are loved from the depths of my heart and that I will always love them through~through pain, through struggles, through the good stuff and the bad. How can we expect to have perfect kids when we ourselves are imperfect?
she had amazing goals but there was currently no room for space or curve. I told her it was great to have a vision of what her life was supposed to look like in the future but she should absolutely leave room for the unplanned things. The things that make life move and bend, that force you to make decisions, to make hard turns and to maybe change the course you had originally planned but make you who you are truly created to be.
asthma I would lie awake in his room on the floor listening to him struggle to breathe and set my alarm every 4 hours for his breathing treatment. He will probably never know that when he would get hit as a quarterback in 7th and 8th grade I would physically feel sick to my stomach, or the time he cried because he couldn’t understand math and wanted to give up that I cried too. He won’t know that when he didn’t make the varsity basketball team and he sat in his room and cried that I was sitting in my room crying harder because when your child’s dream dies a part of you dies with it. He may never know that when my cancer diagnosis was bad I would lie awake in my hospital bed crying thinking about him and his siblings and willing myself to fight just for them.
have today’ attitude. Life, I mean real life, happens in the ‘in between’. In between jobs, kid stuff, activities, vacations, etc. we spend a whole lot of time in anticipation of the next game, the next season, the next vacation, and we work and focus on those things but what about all the routine we chalk up to ‘a normal day’? That’s the real grit of life. All of the mundane, the annoying things, the actions and reactions, the relationships…all of the stuff that transpires in the monotonous in between spaces of daily living, that is life. If you rush through to just get to the ‘next’, you’ll miss it. Don’t miss living.
older, start to get more self-sufficient, start to become more influenced by friends and media, then of course, start to talk back. Why is it that the most difficult time for raising a child happens at the exact time they are about to leave home?
there are others when I want to never let him go. He pretends to be fiercely independent but then will ask for something simple or say something which points to the fact that he is still young, a child. I think it’s more difficult with boys because somewhere around the age of 12/13 they start talking with one word answers while girls get more emotional but don’t really stop talking/yelling/whining and still communicating with you. I was told a long time ago that when boys leave home conversations become scarce until they find a wife or serious girlfriend who then becomes the central communicator between mom and son again.
My son’s been receiving college acceptance letters. When he got his first acceptance letter I was so happy for him but my heart dropped because reality showed itself. He is a young adult. He can vote, check into a hotel, maybe rent a car, he’s had a job for a couple years now, etc. yet in this last year he is home I want to hug him more, have him around me more, and kind of spoil him because it has gone way too fast. My first baby who was born 5 weeks early with giant eyes and the longest eyelashes is going to be my first to go. How can I be joyful and heartbroken at the same time?
Anna's Lipstick Journey 