down and dirty...

Picture this...a group of women venting their frustrations about marriage, work, kids, weight- you name it. The conversation can take place anywhere- the lunch room, happy hour, adjoining bathroom stalls- it doesn't matter. When it comes to expressing how we feel and what we think- location is hardly relevant. And therefore- thanks again to those who've submitted your very insightful and honest questions to modern malama. I couldn't do it without you. Much mahalos.

dear modern malama, 
How do I fight fair when my significant other doesn't? And by the way, marriage counseling is not an option. Signed, Down and Dirty


dearest down and dirty, 
As kids we're often told by our parents to ignore certain behaviors. If the resident racist wants to make derogatory slurs...don't listen. If the 6 foot, eleven year old bully steals your lunch money...deal with it- she's probably poor. And if the popular kids want to poke fun at you for being different...well, in 20 years they'll most likely live in a trailer park and drink white Zinfindel out of a box. So perhaps- "oh, just ignore them" isn't such bad advice after all. 

But as we get older, find our voices, and gain confidence- ignoring ignorance isn't as easy as the old sticks and stones adage. In fact- words can indeed be very hurtful. And if you're accustomed to doing more shutting up than throwing down- fighting, whether it's clean or dirty... may make you feel just like that kid in the schoolyard all over again. However, this time you're older and wiser. And when it comes to relationships- just remember...there's a huge difference between making a point and wanting to fight. If all you want to do is voice your opinion then go right ahead, sister. Speak up and say it loud. This marriage, commitment, debauchery is a two way street and don't you forget it! But if all your honey bear wants to do is incite World War 3....then I say go a little old school and just ignore 'em. 


always, mm

choose or lose...

Between the Real Housewives of New York and New Jersey- I've seen enough vicious cat fighting, plastic surgery, and brutal honesty to pacify any curiosity I had about what the filthy rich do in their spare time. A little charitable deed here to feed the homeless, a little backstabbing there to your one time BFF and voila! The perfect recipe for a spin off, a ratings smash, and glimpses into why you should never cross a Jersey girl. (table flipping is optional though highly probable). And though you'll often find me glued to the television with my mouth gaping and enthusiastically awaiting next weeks episode- I must admit...reality tv drama: good. Real life drama: bad, at least for me, that is. In a nutshell, I'm too old to give a shit so quite frankly- let's not even go there.

Although despite avoiding certain situations, distancing yourself from toxic people, and maintaining a relatively drama free existence- the truth is, you can run but you can't hide. A couple of recent encounters tempted me to revisit some past behaviors and instead of playing along with the mind games and getting caught up in those silly little webs- I knew I had to choose. Would I be the typical finger pointing, loud mouth who rolled out the welcome mat every time major conflict and upheaval arose? (Ohhh- how I miss those days!) Or, would I simply choose the alternative? I mean, sure life gets a little redundant minus the conspiracy theories and daily gossiping but quite frankly, my dear...I don't give a shit. And you...do you believe the hearsay? Do tell...

coming of age

A few days ago my daughter celebrated her 18th birthday. Growing up in American society, technically speaking, that makes her a bonafide adult. But if I hold on to my traditional Filipina roots-  technically, there's no telling when she'll stop being my little girl. I mean, let's face it- I know grown men and women who, to this day, are still coddled, supported, and financiered by their immigrant parents...that's just how we Filipinos do. Unfortunately, my parents never got that memo so I can't say I've been privy to the indulgence, but I have seen quite a bit of it in my lifetime. And while I'm all about sticking to tradition- I have no intention nor the funds to continue bank rolling what I'm sure will be, an absolutely fabulous lifestyle. Soon enough, letting go- is inevitable.

Tonight as my daughter and her friends readied for their first foray into the club scene- I couldn't help but  reminisce about my own club days at the Limelight and Down Under many (well, not THAT many) years ago. In all the excitement I must admit, I did contemplate this evenings options. A night of clubbing with a bunch of teenagers or the season premiere of Top Chef DC? For the sake of good common sense and realizing that my heyday has passed- Bravo proved victorious and so did I. If letting go is the ultimate objective- I guess starting now- will lessen the blow in the future. Inevitably, we all have to grow up someday. And you...when do you cut the cord? Do tell...

guilt by association

Over the next few weeks- I'll be posting questions that center around things we think but probably never say out loud- especially when it comes to relationships and parenting. Wait- let me rephrase that...perhaps after heavy prompting, multiple glasses of Chardonnay, on the verge or in the midst of a complete meltdown- we're finally ready to tell it like it is. Thank you to those brave souls who've shared their stories, seek clarity, and maybe....just maybe- you begin to live life on your terms- not anyone elses. Wishing you the best!!

dear modern malama,

How do I not feel guilty about spending time with my husband without the kids? How do I not feel guilty for wanting time with the girls, working out, etc? Basically, how do I not feel guilty? Signed, Seeking guilty pleasures.

dearest seeking guilty pleasures,


I'd never advocate for teenage pregnancy however, there is an upside to youthful indiscretions. Being a teenage mother myself- I can attest to the fact that there were 2 kids in the equation...my baby and me. Unable to fully grasp the concept that the life I knew was supposed to end when I became a mom- I simply never bought into that train of thought. So, while balancing bedtime stories with Rutgers RAPS parties- I walked the fine line of mothering my daughter yet nurturing myself. My naivety and underdeveloped guilty conscience apparently served me well in those days. I couldn't ignore all the things I still wanted to do, go, be, or see just because I was a mother. And while my life changed dramatically and it wasn't ALL about me anymore....did that mean NONE of it was about me? Often times, guilt is self inflicted. For some inexplicable reason- with the advent of a nuclear family complete with mini van, and a labrador- we can't help but associate pleasure without the guilt. Perhaps now may be a good time to re-evaluate how much of your life belongs to you. Is it all or none? Or could you possibly wind up in the middle? Somewhere between being a good mom while still nurturing yourself- guilt free, of course.


always, mm