Working Mom Diaries

Drumroll...

Yes, Working Mom magazine's June issue is out!!! I know, I know, you're reeling from tuition fees and school supplies shopping and a magazine just ain't on your priority list. But -- and I'm not just saying this because I'm the editor-in-chief -- the tips here will save you a lot of bucks, and stress.

You know how crazy it is to ferry a kid to school by 7 am? There's a checklist that prevents the most common "emergencies" that can explode exactly when everyone's too sleepy to think. (Hey, if your child misses the school bus and your yaya has to take him in a cab, you've already spent more than you would've on the magazine, hahaha!)

Dreading the daily homework battle? Hey, it doesn't have to be a battle. Find the best study techniques for your child's personality. He'll work faster. You'll stop yelling. 

And as for the article on spotting the hidden signs that your teen's in trouble -- it helped a family even before the magazine went to print. A good friend of mine's been complaining for months about her son's "laziness." He hates school. Sleeps all the time. Since he was otherwise a "good" kid, she thought it was just a "motivation" problem. When I shared the info, she was suitably alarmed to go through his room when he was away. She found drugs, hidden in a sock. 

Come, get it. Then tell us what you think -- would so love to hear from you! You can email me at dedet.panabi@abs-cbn.com (or mwm@abs-cbn.com, the magazine's "official" address) or post right here.

Torn between clients and birthday cakes

It was 6:15 pm. I was hunkered in front of the office Mac, tweaking the layout of a Very Important Presentation we needed by early tomorrow morning. It was not coming together.

Then my cell phone rang -- it was my son. "Mama, are you finished?"

Then I remembered. I'd promised to take him to the mall and order his birthday cake. If we didn't leave in  20 minutes, we'd get stuck in traffic. Panic set in. "Honey," I said, "Can we go tomorrow?" 

If he had cried, screamed, or thrown a tantrum, I would've known what to say. Instead, his voice fell to a heartbreaking whisper. "Pwees Mama, can we go now?" He sounded so disappointed. 

I had to make a choice, and in cases like this, I always go with two questions: "What will matter more a week from now?" and "What are my other alternatives?" Definitely, I had to get the cake. That means a lot to my four-year-old, more than any sponsorship package could possibly bring in. But I didn't have to abandon the presentation either.

"Okay, honey, I'm almost done. Get dressed, we're going to the mall." Then I grabbed paper, sketched the layout I wanted, left instructions with my staff, and ran out the door. Five hours later, after we'd ordered the cake and my son was in bed, dreaming happy dreams of chocolate icing and bright red balloons, I wrote down copypoints for my next meeting. If the layout didn't turn out that well, I'd wow the client with my speech. There were many ways to sell a presentation. Only one way (at that time) to earn the trust of my son.

And hey, we got the sponsorship.

Walking wounded

  Lesson for the day: never wear brand-new heels to a cocktail party.

I had an evening function right after work, and thinking I had the whole day-to-night fashion routine down pat, I wore slacks, a pretty blouse (I'd ditch the shawl at the party), and a gorgeous pair of pointy-ish shoes that I'd recently picked up on a stress-shopping binge.

By lunchtime, my feet were killing me. I think they were too small (my beauty editor later told me to always get a bigger size when you buy tapered tips). Needless to say, I was practically limping by the time I got to the party. I wanted to sit down, but -- haha! -- it was a cocktail event. Just tiny tables. Do you know how hard it is to shake hands with somebody while juggling a clutch bag and a tiny plate of shrimp -- all while balancing on one blistered foot? Argh. I wanted to die.

I remembered, too late, a tip from the Working Mom magazine stylist: keep two pairs of shoes in your cubicle. Black kitten heels or ballet flats, and killer heels. You can slip into more comfortable shoes in the day, or upgrade an outfit for an unforeseen after-office party.

Let me add my own tip: save the new heels for sit-down dinners. Now let me go find a band-aid...

Tuition woes

Just paid my son's tuition. One school year costs more than my entire college education. And he's in pre-school.

My friend Mawi has three kids in a very pricey Alabang school, and she says she could buy a second-hand car with the check she just wrote. That's why she decided to take a full-time job. Freelance writing was fun, but to earn even half of what she needed, she'd have to work 36-hour days.

Ah, tuition woes.

If you're still worrying about where to get the money, check out the May issue of Working Mom magazine. We have an article on possible sources for tuition loans, and the real cost of paying tuition in full vs. quarterly or monthly installments. We even interviewed a freelancer who found a way to make it work -- hey, Mawi, it's not too late to quit your job!   

Violent video game alert

I have nothing against video games. They can be fun, and kids need fun. But, like chocolate cake and all the other treats we give them, use in moderation -- and with supervision.  Screen the games. Some are pretty disturbing.

Like Grand Theft Auto 4. It's a car racing game, right? Sounds harmless. It's not. The whole series glamorizes violence. "Fun" is defined as beating prostitutes, drug running, stealing, going to strip clubs, killing police, running over pedestrians, carjacking, drive-by shootings, and drunk driving. In the new release (it hit stores end of April) there are cut scenes of racy lap dances, simulated sex acts, and a strange "player incentive" -- if you proposition prostitutes, you get a health boost.

Don't let this game into your home. Frankly, I'd rather have kids shooting zombies. At least that doesn't confuse their value system.

Party Ready Pantry

My friend Cecille is in the middle of what she calls "The Teen Takeover."  Her son is 15, her daughter 10 (but she acts like she's 18). The phone is always red-hot from telebabad marathons, and her grocery budget's crazy because she feeds her kids and their friends. She's not complaining, though. She'd rather have them hanging out at home then God-knows-where.

Anyway, her kitchen's always ready for an emergency dinner for 10. I rarely have that problem (my son's in pre-school, and his friends are happy with Graham crackers or ice candy). But I liked her Checklist for the Party-Ready Pantry. Most if the ingredients help streeeetch the meat to feed huge crowds, so you don't completely kill your grocery budget. Came in handy when my husband suddenly brought over his office mates for a late inuman session. Maybe it'll help you.

1. Olive oil. Great for pasta or a lemon-and-garlic roast chicken.
2. Pasta. Macaroni for salads, spaghetti, and mami -- you can throw in leftover meat to make a soup.
3. Sinigang mix. One of the cheapest dinners you can ever make.
4. Bacon. Supermarkets sell small bits by the bag, perfect for salads, flavoring soups, or toppings for carbonara or casseroles.
5. Bread crumbs. Use to coat meat, or as an extender in a casserole or meatloaf. I like to toss them with dried herbs like rosemary, italian seasoning or powdered garlic, depending on what you want to use them for.
6. Hotcake mix. Surprisingly very versatile. Coat around hotdogs and stick in a waffle pan, or add chicken breast, sliced ham and even tuna for savory muffins.   
7. Sardines. With a lot of onions and cheese, they make great pandesal pizzas. Just stick in the toaster oven. (Makes a good pulutan, too!)
8. Cream of mushroom / chicken. When her ulam isn't enough to feed the crowd, she serves an instant soup and loads it with potatoes and macaroni. (Add milk and butter so you can get more servings from one pack without completely losing the flavor.) Use less water, and you have an instant pasta sauce or gravy.

Working Mom magazine's also beefed up its Home and Entertaining section. Aside from the recipes, we've got tips, product reviews, all geared for busy moms who don't have much time to spend in the kitchen. Check it out! 

Dancing letters to the rescue

Chikka Chikka Boom Boom was one of my son's first books. He instantly loved it -- okay, he loved chewing it, but it survived the baby years to become one of his favorite bedtime stories. The plot: letters climb up (and fall down) a coconut tree. Weird premise, but by the third pass I'd memorized the lines. Like a good pop song, it had an irresistible "hook."

Anyway, I found a cool animated version of Chikka Chikka Boom Boom on YouTube. It's good for 5 minutes of emergency entertainment -- long enough for me to take an important business call without him grabbing the phone and screaming "Hi, I'm here!"

Welcome to your Happy Place

Last week at the supermarket, someone tapped me on the shoulder and said: "Hey. I know you. You're the editor of Working Mom magazine."

I smile. Always nice to meet a reader, though I wished I hadn't been caught in "grocery chic": ratty shirt, no makeup, and holding a stack of canned sardines. We chat, then she suddenly threw me a curveball of a question:  "What's the one secret to balancing work and family?"

Whoa. So not prepared for that. I'm tempted to say: "Buy Working Mom magazine, packed with parenting tips, career advice, business ideas, and inspiring stories!"

But there's only so much you can know. When you face your scariest decisions (like quitting your job to start a business) or struggle with rawest emotions (like hearing your teen scream "I hate you!") you need both facts...and a friend. Someone to hug you and say, "It'll be okay." Or to whisk you away from the craziness and take you shopping for shoes. 

That's what this blog is for. Yup, we'll have tips, interviews, even contests (all the things you love about Working Mom magazine!) but it's really just a Happy Place place where we can hang around, vent, exchange stories, and recharge. It won't solve all our problems, but it'll make us feel a little bit braver when we face them again. And maybe that's what balance really means.

Dedet Panabi, Editor-in-Chief, Working Mom magazine