April

Picking up all the little bits of dry leaves and grass gave her much joy.

What happened in April?

Rashida welcomed us to her new home in Tampines where I met her nieces and nephews who reminded me so much of the rambunctious lot I meet on Sundays.

Yati and Fahmy dropped by. Huda received something that actually kept her occupied for hours!! (I've almost given up buying her toys because sometimes, she doesn't even care to look at her new toy.)

Then, I started my new exercise regime - a hike up the hill ever morning with Huda. It lasted three mornings.

And then there was that trip to Desaru. Desaru was very, very nice! There's so much to do there. We wish we had gone with the entire family so that we could get extra hands to keep Huda occupied while we jet-ski-ed or played pool (would have been my maiden attempt!) or go-kart-ed. But a dip in the pool with Huda was very fun too!

The month ended with a night at Dan&Ju's but unlike those days long gone, 9.30pm saw goodbyes and see-you-soons. A child really changes your life in all ways. :)

Shoppers Anonymous

I need to stop online shopping.

I need to realise that time on the computer can be used for other purposes (like, ummm, playing solitaire?) other than browsing online catalogues.

I need to stop checking online sprees and treat them as personal invitations to join them.

I need to stop thinking that I should join the sprees because the organiser is already in my list of payees in my internet banking account.

I need to tell myself that Huda does not need that pretty skirt that's a perfect match to a skirt  I have.

Huda does not need that pretty skirt that's a perfect match to a skirt  I have. Huda does not need that pretty skirt that's a perfect match to a skirt  I have. Huda does not need that pretty skirt that's a perfect match to a skirt  I have. Huda does not need that pretty skirt that's a perfect match to a skirt  I have.    

Or, does she?

 

Wag You

I should be so grateful that Singapore's halal food scene is nowhere near Malaysia's. I would otherwise be:

a) fat; and

b) broke.

 

Sigh. I'm still thinking of what I had in KL last month.

I must stop this obsession with food.

Time to Shed the Flab

It's all the dietitian's fault.

Sometime at the end of last year, we had to see a dietitian because of Huda's poor weight gain.

After she took note of Huda's feeding habits (hardly any), she turned to me, the provider of milk.

She asked me about my eating habits, calculated my BMI and found that I was hovering close to the underweight category . She told me to eat more - more protein, fresh milk (none of the low-fat stuff) etc.

A few weeks later, we took her to a GP because of her fever and the doctor told me the same thing.

I then vowed to eat and eat and eat and eat.

And so began my new diet consisting of heavy breakfast, two lunches, tea time snacks, heavy dinner, supper and plenty of snacking in between. The milk - I can finish a 1-litre carton in 2 days. You can get fat just reading about what I'm eating.

Now, does it show or what!

So, I'm going to start doing something which I've always had the intention of doing.

Exercise.

Yes. That's a vulgar word (to me).

But, it has to be done. It was supposed to start on Saturday but, conveniently, the stadium was not available. Just now, I bought an exercise VCD.

I brought it to my mom's (who strongly encouraged me to buy the VCD) and, ummm, while my very fit 56-year-old mother was at it, I was, ummmmm, eating chocolates and potato chips in front of the computer.

See how motivated I am?

But, I will. I must. These flabs have to go. I do not wish to grant them permanent residency status! Or, worse, citizenship! Gaaaaaah!

(Psssst. Exercising regularly is actually another one of my resolutions which I have not never achieved for many, many years. Hopefully, this is the year when resolutions become realities.)

Phantom of the Opera

Maybe there's something that I totally did not get. But why do people fear the Phantom's face so much? He's not all that grotesque. The bad patch he had looked like a very, very severe acne case.

And when Christine removed the Phantom's mask, everyone in the audience gasped. Did everyone in the past have telescopic eyesight? From so far away, they could see the ridges on Mr Phantom's face?

Am I missing anything here?

(I normally bug Mr Husband about these things but, at 1.28am now, Mr Husband is asleep. Ah yes, he has to wake up early in the morning to go to work.)

Night Out

Except for 2 work-related dinner that I had to attend last year, I have not been without Huda whenever I go out for dinner.

Until tonight.

Last week, Adeline suggested a meet-up.

Since husbands were not involved and it was to be done outside (as in, not somebody's house), I thought, I couldn't possibly have Huda with me if I wanted to have a decent conversation.

Husband said: No problem. I can take care of her. Go enjoy your night out.

It was only two hours but it was my first time (in a looooooooong time) having dinner without The Little Girl trying to jump out of her high chair, bawling her lungs out because I took the fork away from her.

---

It was liberating.

---

I planned to reach home by 9.45pm so that I can nurse her to sleep.

I called the Husband and asked if I needed to run back (which is much faster than waiting for the bus or taxi) or if I had enough time to wait for the bus. He said, wait for the bus. Bus came and reached its stop.

I hopped off the bus and rushed up the stairs.

The house was quiet.

There was no sign of The Active Little Girl.

"She's sleeping?"

"Yes," the Husband whispered, with just a hint of pride.

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It's unbelievable! Another record-breaking moment! The first time she went to sleep without me having to breastfeed her!!

---

So, I think I can do this more often. Maybe once or twice a month, eh, Husband?

Marching On

Many moons have passed and this page has not changed. So here are random pictures from the first quarter of the year.

Eating For Two

Breastfeeding is really not as simple as it seems.

 

I am pretty much a social eater and one of those people who eat to stay alive. I like food but a bit of hunger does not have much of an impact on me. I generally stop eating before I am full. If I am sick, I'll eat plenty of fruit and vegetables.

 

But breastfeeding means I have to take stock of my eating habits.

 

Now, I have to make sure that I have three square meals a day with one palm-size of meat per meal.

 

It is not easy for me, I tell you. But I have to even though I find it mildly stressful to constantly ensure that I am eating and eating a lot.

 

---

 

Actually, I should stop complaining. Other breastfeeding mothers suffer from cracked nipples. My only problem is having to eat a lot. Sometimes, my bimbo-ness surprise myself.  

Weight Watchers

Second entry for the night! I *must* be too free.

I have always been very obsessed about Huda's weight. Whenever I see a baby around Huda's age, I'll ask the mother what the baby's weight is and then I'll set targets for Huda. "See Huda, Sheralynn is 8kg. Can you eat more?"

And Kailing will chide me.

I really need that regular chiding from Kailing, I think. My obsession is ridiculous. And, most importantly, I should stop comparing Huda with all other babies.

I should be grateful that she's healthy. Actually, I am but sometimes I forget. (That's why I need to be reminded constantly.)

Many premature babies have an assortment of health problems. But Huda is generally healthy.

And for that, I should be grateful. So I shall stop comparing her weight with other babies. (But I still need to be reminded.)

An On

I have that other page somewhere in the world wide web. I publicise that page for all to see and I even share it with people I've never met before.

 

But, I'm beginning to feel that it's just getting too open and I'm losing my anonymity in that forum that I frequent.

 

So, I come back here where hardly anyone visits.

 

Bliss.