Lessons from Handy Manny and Bob the Builder

It can't be done.

I have heard this so many times from so many different people. But the optimist in me just can't accept that things can't be simply done.

Today, when things don't go the way I hope they would, I just remember Heaven and his favorite characters, Handy Manny and Bob the Builder.

Handy Manny and his talking tools would sing, "We can do it one step at a time."

Bob the Builder and his crew would sing, "Can we fix it? Yes we can."

Here I am wishing that adults like me would get to watch Handy Manny and Bob the Builder.

So tonight, I pray and believe: "We can fix it. Oh yes we can. One step at a time."

And it also doesn't hurt to wish I have my own talking tools and machines.

Mommy talk

I have talked to many mothers in remote barangays. Mothers as young as 15 and as old as our dear Lola's.
I have talked to them about how breast milk is best for their babies; why they need to see the midwife at least four times when pregnant; why it is safer to give birth at a health facility.

I have talked to them about the number of children they have or wish they have. I have talked to them about their eldest child and their youngest one. And those in between.

I have talked to them about how best to take care of their health. How best to take care of their children's health. How best to take care of their family's health.

In the past year, I have talked to these women about family planning.

In Tarlac, I met an Aeta mother, Nanay Carolina, in her 50s. She is a barangay health worker.

When I asked about how many children she has, she said "Nine!" Her eldest is 35 and her youngest is 12. She was proud and told me how all her children grew up well. When asked what she meant, she said her children are upright and good. All of them had gone to elementary school. But not one completed grade 6. She hopes her youngest does.

Most of her children are married now. When asked how many grandchildren she has with each of her child, she said the most is two. "I talked to them about family planning," she said in Filipino.

"Had I known before what I know now about how to plan a family, I would have planned my own."

"My husband and I did our best to raise our children but it had been very difficult. We remain poor up to this day."

If she were to talk to other couples about family planning, how would she convince them? "I would tell them about my story. I would tell them how it broke my heart to see my children hungry and sharing what little food we had. I would tell them that planning a family can help them escape poverty. The fewer children they have, even the most meager resources would seem enough to live a comfortable, healthy life."

I was speechless. I was there to talk to women about what they know of family planning. I was there not to lecture about family planning. But there she was, a tiny Aeta woman --- weaving answers to my questions, unaided, unguarded. She talked about being poor, being healthy, and planning a family, all in one breath.

And priests everyday talk about how population and poverty have no co-relation at all with reproductive health. They claim that RH is really about abortion.

I have talked to many mothers in remote barangays. Mothers as young as 15 and as old as our Lola's. I have talked to them about how breast milk is best for their babies; why they need to see a midwife at least four times when pregnant; why it is safer to give birth at a health facility.

I have talked to them about the number of children they have or wish they have. I have talked to them about their eldest child and their youngest. And those in between.

I have talked to them about how best to take care of their health. How best to take care of their children's health. How best to take care of their family's health.

To my mind, all these talks are about reproductive health. And not once did I ever talk to women about abortion.

P.S. I don't have any marital problem.