Description:
Hahaa! I managed to start a recipe tab. I didn't realise it's so simple!
Now, it may seem inconceivable that I, the soooo-not-a-cook-SAHM, am starting a recipe section. But, well, SAHMs, even temporary ones, must justify their staying at home with occasional visits to the kitchen. And while I am nowhere near moderately-good, I can (with the help of good cookbooks and my mother and the grace of God) come up with something edible for the family. When I'm successful in the kitchen, I'd like to share the recipes with whoever who's interested. Beginning cooks might find this useful because I only share recipes that work here.
If you are a beginner, you might want to take note that in cookbook (and in here), when they say 1 tablespoon, they mean 15ml. Definitely not the spoon you use to eat your rice. And a cup is 250ml. So, if I say a cup of oil is needed to prepare that sambal tumis, I'm not kidding. You need an outrageous amount of oil to make your sambal tumis palatable.
This is one heck of a simple recipe. The most difficult part of this recipe is preparing the prawns. Sheng Siong is now my favourite place to get prawns. They have prawns which are very much alive moving merrily in tanks. And when I bring them home, they are still wriggling in the plastic bag. :p
(If you have little kids at home who don't eat spicy food, you might want to marinate a few of the prawns with salt and black pepper, poke a satay stick through each prawn so that it remains straight, then pop them in the toaster oven for a couple of minutes til they are cooked.)
Ingredients:
500g prawns
1 tbsp olive oil
1/2 tbsp butter
A:
1 large onion, sliced
2 cloves garlic, sliced finely
10g dried chillies, soaked in warm water until they are ready to be used
B:
1 red capsicum, cubed
1 green capsicum, cubed
C:
1 tbsp black pepper sauce
1 tbsp oyster sauce
1 tsp dark soya sauce
1 tbsp marmalade jam*
(I don't have marmalade jam and I don't fancy buying a bottle of it just for this purpose. So I use the only jam I have - strawberry jam. It still works. But if I had wanted the tanginess of the marmalade jam, I suppose I could have squeezed some lime juice into the sauce.)
Directions:
1. Prepare prawns by removing the shells and deveining them but leave the heads and tails intact.
2. Heat olive oil. Add butter.
3. Add Group A for 2 minutes.
4. Add Group B for 3 minutes on high heat.
5. Add C and prawns for about 10 minutes or until prawns are cooked, taking care not to overcook the prawns because overcooked prawns are sooooo not nice.
Ta-dah! Ready to eat!
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Ramadan
1. This is Huda's first real attempt at fasting.
On Days 1, 2 and 3, she went to school. Day 1 saw her refraining from food the entire day. But she took one sip of water from her water bottle in school. Still we were extremely proud of her. 6pm, she saw Farah eating and asked for some rice. So, I distracted her with some TV. Ah, yes. It's somewhat justifiable to break the no-TV-rule at 6pm in the month of Ramadan.
She broke her fast the moment I put her rice in front of her, about 30 seconds before Maghrib. :p
On Day 2, I sent her to school without her water bottle. When I picked her up, she was so thirsty. So I gave her a glass of water when we reached home of which she only took a sip.
She was about to throw a tantrum over something but I told her that people who are fasting must refrain from getting angry. She smiled and behaved again.
She ate at Maghrib. This time, I only put her plate of rice in front of her at exactly Maghrib so Day 1's incident won't be repeated.
Day 3, she woke up for sahur as always. It's not so difficut to rouse her at 5am in the morning. The trick is to gently wake her up and promise her her favourite food for now - eggs. :D But at school, she had some porridge for lunch and Milo and biscuits during her teabreak. It's okay, I suppose. She needs an occasional break from fasting. After all, for now, we are just training her. It's not compulsory for her to fast at all.
Day 4, Saturday. It's the weekend. She doesn't go to school on Saturdays and we're afraid that not being meaningfully occupied will make her think of food. But we were in for a big surprise. She was such a trooper! She spent the morning playing with Farah and by 3pm, she took an afternoon nap all the way til 5.30pm. Then, it was time to go to her paternal grandma's house. And by the time we made our way there, it was time to break our fast. That was such an amazing day. She didn't whine one bit!
Day 5. Today. Sunday. We're going to her maternal grandparents' home where she'll meet all her cousins. We'll be there by early afternoon and knowing how they play, I fear that she will over-exert herself and will start asking for water especially when she sees the younger cousins taking huge gulps of water from their bottles. Well, we'll see. I hope she'll be as strong today as she was yesterday. And even if she can't make it, we'll still be proud of her accomplishments so far. :D
2. Well, this next it has nothing to do with the fasting month. But since I'm spending some time writing here, I might as well include a little tidbit about Farah. Farah pronounces the words 'dog' and 'horse' in the funniest way! Both words are said with a very pronounced 'ou' sound ('ou' as in bow and arrow) and her lips would be in a full pout as she says it. Priceless!
Gotta go now. My computer time is up. :p
Monday, August 09, 2010
Bountiless
I recently renewed my acquaintance with S and Z, a married couple.
They have been trying for a kid for some seven years without success.
Through the wife, I learnt that they have tried all sorts of procedures but the result is always negative. The most recent negative result they got was just two weeks ago.
I cannot even begin to imagine the pain they go through.
When I bumped into them a few days ago, the kids were with me. Although we were all jokey and smiley, I knew that there's suffering under those smiles. The pain and longing in the eyes of the wife were just too clear when she looked at Huda and Farah.
I can't do anything about their situation. I can't help them. All I can do is pray that their wish will be granted. But if it's not meant to be, then I pray that they'll both be happy together and that they'll be granted the wisdom to accept that it will just be the both of them forever. Amin.
They have been trying for a kid for some seven years without success.
Through the wife, I learnt that they have tried all sorts of procedures but the result is always negative. The most recent negative result they got was just two weeks ago.
I cannot even begin to imagine the pain they go through.
When I bumped into them a few days ago, the kids were with me. Although we were all jokey and smiley, I knew that there's suffering under those smiles. The pain and longing in the eyes of the wife were just too clear when she looked at Huda and Farah.
I can't do anything about their situation. I can't help them. All I can do is pray that their wish will be granted. But if it's not meant to be, then I pray that they'll both be happy together and that they'll be granted the wisdom to accept that it will just be the both of them forever. Amin.
Woody
1. Starhub is showing all channels for free during this long weekend and while channel surfing, I found myself stuck on the Woody Woodpecker show on Cartoon Network. It is so very very different from the Woody Woodpecker I used to catch when I was younger. I don't like the new one. I'm just leaving the cartoon on now so that I can catch the woodpecker pecking at a tree at the end of the show. I hope they still have that at least.
(Eventually I couldn't bear watching this show and changed the channel. How can there be aliens in Woody Woodpecker?!)
2. Two years ago or so, we decided to start hunting for a place much much nearer my mother's. We told ourselves that it is to make it convenient for us when we have to drop the kids off at my mom's when I go back to work. But, honestly, we are just itching for a bigger space and this time, with better ideas on how to do up the flat. A 5-room flat will do just fine. As very ngeow people, we want only specific units in specific blocks. We want an excellent view from all windows and we want it to be on a high floor. And of course, being so particular about everything, we have yet to find our unit.
When we started our search, my sister was not at all interested in moving out of her seaview home. But now, renovations in her new flat is almost complete and she's moving in by next week.
A few weeks after she made an offer for the flat, the 5-room flat next to hers was up for sale. The block is near my mother's house but it wasn't one of our shortlisted blocks. The view from the back is that of other people's kitchens. The view from the front is not that bad. But the owners were asking for an unreasonable amount for the cash-over-valuation component. I refused to budge from the amount which we have agreed upon from the very beginning. And so the flat slipped from our fingers.
Now, it seems like the person who made the offer is having some problems fulfilling his end of the bargain and the flat might be available again.
Well, I'm pretty fatalistic about things sometimes. I believe that if it's meant to be, it's meant to be. So if that flat is meant to be ours, it will be ours with us offering what I think is a reasonable amount of cov. We'll see.
3. I think Wuthering Heights is a terribly depressing story.
And now, on to the kids.
4. HELP! Farah is starting on her Terrible Twos six months too early! She's now very much into wailing and rolling all over the floor whenever something displeases Her Royal Highness. Sometimes I don't even know what Her Royal Highness wants. I'm beginning to think that Her Royal Highness is just doing this rolling-on-the-floor-wailing to expend her energy.
I'm sure someone must have snapped my picture and sent it to STOMP this morning. We were outside NTUC supermarket and my beloved Farah was wailing at the top of her lungs. Obviously I'm not entering the supermarket where her wailings will be amplified so I waited outside while TheHusband made a quick dash through the supermarket.
I can just imagine what the contributor will write on STOMP - Young* (possibly unwed) mother let her baby cry and cry and did absolutely nothing to stop the crying baby.
On a side note, I think I should send her to a gymnastics class where she can roll around as much as she wants. Or perhaps, a popiah-making class.
(*Clarification: I'm not trying to hao lian about my youthful looks. Up close, the fine lines under my eyes and my old aged wrinkly hands will reveal my true age. But from a distance, the sum total of my features make me look younger.)
(Eventually I couldn't bear watching this show and changed the channel. How can there be aliens in Woody Woodpecker?!)
2. Two years ago or so, we decided to start hunting for a place much much nearer my mother's. We told ourselves that it is to make it convenient for us when we have to drop the kids off at my mom's when I go back to work. But, honestly, we are just itching for a bigger space and this time, with better ideas on how to do up the flat. A 5-room flat will do just fine. As very ngeow people, we want only specific units in specific blocks. We want an excellent view from all windows and we want it to be on a high floor. And of course, being so particular about everything, we have yet to find our unit.
When we started our search, my sister was not at all interested in moving out of her seaview home. But now, renovations in her new flat is almost complete and she's moving in by next week.
A few weeks after she made an offer for the flat, the 5-room flat next to hers was up for sale. The block is near my mother's house but it wasn't one of our shortlisted blocks. The view from the back is that of other people's kitchens. The view from the front is not that bad. But the owners were asking for an unreasonable amount for the cash-over-valuation component. I refused to budge from the amount which we have agreed upon from the very beginning. And so the flat slipped from our fingers.
Now, it seems like the person who made the offer is having some problems fulfilling his end of the bargain and the flat might be available again.
Well, I'm pretty fatalistic about things sometimes. I believe that if it's meant to be, it's meant to be. So if that flat is meant to be ours, it will be ours with us offering what I think is a reasonable amount of cov. We'll see.
3. I think Wuthering Heights is a terribly depressing story.
And now, on to the kids.
4. HELP! Farah is starting on her Terrible Twos six months too early! She's now very much into wailing and rolling all over the floor whenever something displeases Her Royal Highness. Sometimes I don't even know what Her Royal Highness wants. I'm beginning to think that Her Royal Highness is just doing this rolling-on-the-floor-wailing to expend her energy.
I'm sure someone must have snapped my picture and sent it to STOMP this morning. We were outside NTUC supermarket and my beloved Farah was wailing at the top of her lungs. Obviously I'm not entering the supermarket where her wailings will be amplified so I waited outside while TheHusband made a quick dash through the supermarket.
I can just imagine what the contributor will write on STOMP - Young* (possibly unwed) mother let her baby cry and cry and did absolutely nothing to stop the crying baby.
On a side note, I think I should send her to a gymnastics class where she can roll around as much as she wants. Or perhaps, a popiah-making class.
(*Clarification: I'm not trying to hao lian about my youthful looks. Up close, the fine lines under my eyes and my old aged wrinkly hands will reveal my true age. But from a distance, the sum total of my features make me look younger.)
Tuesday, August 03, 2010
May June July '10
Cold Storage Kids' Run 2010
Some of the things we did in the presence of the camera in the last three months. And there were also many things done without the camera present.
Friday, July 30, 2010
18
I better start writing down everything which I've been intending to write before my memory fails me.
1. Farah is now almost 18 months. The tests she went through show that she's anaemic. She's on an iron supplement now. There's an article in today's Mind Your Body about how deficiency in iron and copper affects sleep because some hormones (or something) which induce a restful sleep need iron to ensure that it's released (or something along that line; the main point is, if you dont have enough iron and copper, you won't sleep well). The iron supplement must have finally entered the blood stream last night because she woke up only twice. And she's been napping rather well too.
2. The few nights before last night was most most challenging. Perhaps because my period was coming, my milk supply was pretty low. (That always happens a few days before my period arrives.) She latched on for a long looooong time and woke up at least 4 times at night. I stopped counting at 4 because I was so zonked out. It was driving me to tears and so I resorted to formula milk. Good 'ol formula milk, my saviour.
3. I have been letting Farah play with the milk bottle for about two months (?) now and occasionally, she drinks some milk from it. I no longer give her chilled milk. Just milk at room temperature. So last night, when she started fretting at 11pm, I gave her a bottle of milk. At 4am, she woke up again and I gave her another bottle. Both times, she took it readily. There was a bit of rejection at first but it was nowhere as violent as it was with Huda.
I foresee a future when I can get at least 6 hours of uninterrupted sleep. I hope that future is soon.
I will still breastfeed her in the day. Maybe I'll give her one bottle of milk in the daytime but I won't completely stop breastfeeding until I go back to work. Which is most probably in June next year.
4. Have I written about that? I'm most likely extending my NPL by another 6 months. If you are envious, there's really nothing to be envious about. It's all about trade-offs. Money is of course, the big one. I'm not earning any (save for tuition - and even so I'm dreadfully lazy and I only have one assignment which I tried my best to not take), am dependent on my husband's income. I'm reluctant to dip into my savings other than to pay for insurance and (if I ever do continue) my driving lessons. If not for the internet, I will have very very little communication with the outside world. I have no excuse not to cook. But when it comes to cooking, I have since found saviours in two things: a) 3hungrytummies.blogspot.com - really reliable recipes and b) any recipes from Asmah Laili.
Lest you think I'm complaining, I'm not. :)
5. We brought the girls to the mosque to perform Maghrib prayers in preparation for the nightly tarawih prayers during Ramadan. I was completely horrified by H's lack of mosque etiquette. Immediately after the prayers ended, she shouted for her father who was 3 storeys down. Shouted. I don't know where to put my face. My sister told me that these kids need reminding of the expected behaviour every time. But, while I would expect the younger one to do this, I was aghast to find my 4-year-old doing this. Someone without kids would say that they are just kids. But if you have a 4-year-old yourself, you would know that by this age, they know better. Gaaaah! I need to take them to the mosque more often so as to acquaint them with the proper etiquette so that I can perform the tarawih prayers at the mosque at least 3-4 times this Ramadan.
This is not the first time we perform our prayers at a mosque. We have done this a number of times. So for my beloved H to behave so uncharacteristically is not quite acceptable.
6. I'm teaching H how to read the Quran using the Iqra' books. The Iqra' books is something like Arabic phonics. Book 1 is very simple. We are now at Book 2 (out of 6) and it's getting challenging. My Queen of Excuses can come up with the most jaw-dropping excuse to escape Book 2 (she wants to read Book 1 forever).
She has ulcers on her mouth a few days ago. Not HFMD. She bit her lips when she fell and ulcers developed. She came back from school. Showered, played. Ate dinner with some sambal, mind you. Even ate a piece of cut chilli. Played some more. Then, I told her that it was time for Iqra'. Suddenly, she was all whimpery. "Bibir Huda sakit." My lips hurt.
7. I was telling The Husband that I wish to be one of those zen, enlightened mothers who never have to raise their voice or invoke fear in their children to get them to do anything. But sometimes, I think that is what works.
So sometimes, shouting and rotan work hand in hand. No rotan, balloon stick (ie, the stick that comes with those balloons that they give away at events and shopping centres) also can.
8. I realise that Huda is pretty much like me in some ways. (Hopefully not the coming up with excuses part.) During the Meet-the-Parents session, her teachers told me that she didn't enjoy colouring as much as her friends. Her cikgu says she will finish the writing/matching/circling part very quickly but if she has to colour, she'll just take a colour pencil and with big big strokes, cover the picture in scrawls. And during her most recent concert, she dances like me (which is really really not saying much).
My former colleagues would attest to that. I had to take down notes to remember the steps. Something like "Wipe windows right x 3. Turn around. Wipe windows left x 3..."
And when I was a student, the subject I hated most was Art and Craft. In Primary 1, I came home crying because my teacher wanted us to draw something in our Health Education book. My mother ended up drawing it for me. This crying whenever drawing is involved is a recurrent theme in my life. Various family members would inevitably take pity on me and help me (only after rounds and rounds of laughter - at me). I was so glad to get rid of A&C by the time I was in Sec 3. But not before being a complete A&C teacher's nightmare in Sec 2.
9. Farah likes all forms of entertainment. Rough-and tumble games, nursery rhymes and being sung to are some of her likes. I'm not sure if I'm doing damage to her musical ability by singing to her. I'm really not good at anything to do with the arts. She plays rough with her sister and I know she can defend herself. She may be tiny but she packs a mighty wallop. Poor Huda has scars to show for it. No bruises, thankfully.
10. She can be a loud and boisterous child at home but the moment we are in the company of people she's not too familiar with, she will be on her guard. She takes quite some time to warm up to people. That's fine by me. I'm not sure if I want a rambunctious, boisterous child who is like that 24/7. At least in the company of others, there's an 'OFF' button even if it's temporarily.
11. I don't worry about Farah's development as much as I fussed over Huda's. Occasionally, I check the milestones and I think that Farah is moving along just fine. She's not far ahead and neither is she lagging behind her peers. What's important is I have a happy, healthy child (slightly underweight lah but not worryingly so).
As usual, it is now the wee hours of the morning. I am no longer making sense and I don't know if I myself can understand half of what I'm writing when I wake up tomorrow morning.
1. Farah is now almost 18 months. The tests she went through show that she's anaemic. She's on an iron supplement now. There's an article in today's Mind Your Body about how deficiency in iron and copper affects sleep because some hormones (or something) which induce a restful sleep need iron to ensure that it's released (or something along that line; the main point is, if you dont have enough iron and copper, you won't sleep well). The iron supplement must have finally entered the blood stream last night because she woke up only twice. And she's been napping rather well too.
2. The few nights before last night was most most challenging. Perhaps because my period was coming, my milk supply was pretty low. (That always happens a few days before my period arrives.) She latched on for a long looooong time and woke up at least 4 times at night. I stopped counting at 4 because I was so zonked out. It was driving me to tears and so I resorted to formula milk. Good 'ol formula milk, my saviour.
3. I have been letting Farah play with the milk bottle for about two months (?) now and occasionally, she drinks some milk from it. I no longer give her chilled milk. Just milk at room temperature. So last night, when she started fretting at 11pm, I gave her a bottle of milk. At 4am, she woke up again and I gave her another bottle. Both times, she took it readily. There was a bit of rejection at first but it was nowhere as violent as it was with Huda.
I foresee a future when I can get at least 6 hours of uninterrupted sleep. I hope that future is soon.
I will still breastfeed her in the day. Maybe I'll give her one bottle of milk in the daytime but I won't completely stop breastfeeding until I go back to work. Which is most probably in June next year.
4. Have I written about that? I'm most likely extending my NPL by another 6 months. If you are envious, there's really nothing to be envious about. It's all about trade-offs. Money is of course, the big one. I'm not earning any (save for tuition - and even so I'm dreadfully lazy and I only have one assignment which I tried my best to not take), am dependent on my husband's income. I'm reluctant to dip into my savings other than to pay for insurance and (if I ever do continue) my driving lessons. If not for the internet, I will have very very little communication with the outside world. I have no excuse not to cook. But when it comes to cooking, I have since found saviours in two things: a) 3hungrytummies.blogspot.com - really reliable recipes and b) any recipes from Asmah Laili.
Lest you think I'm complaining, I'm not. :)
5. We brought the girls to the mosque to perform Maghrib prayers in preparation for the nightly tarawih prayers during Ramadan. I was completely horrified by H's lack of mosque etiquette. Immediately after the prayers ended, she shouted for her father who was 3 storeys down. Shouted. I don't know where to put my face. My sister told me that these kids need reminding of the expected behaviour every time. But, while I would expect the younger one to do this, I was aghast to find my 4-year-old doing this. Someone without kids would say that they are just kids. But if you have a 4-year-old yourself, you would know that by this age, they know better. Gaaaah! I need to take them to the mosque more often so as to acquaint them with the proper etiquette so that I can perform the tarawih prayers at the mosque at least 3-4 times this Ramadan.
This is not the first time we perform our prayers at a mosque. We have done this a number of times. So for my beloved H to behave so uncharacteristically is not quite acceptable.
6. I'm teaching H how to read the Quran using the Iqra' books. The Iqra' books is something like Arabic phonics. Book 1 is very simple. We are now at Book 2 (out of 6) and it's getting challenging. My Queen of Excuses can come up with the most jaw-dropping excuse to escape Book 2 (she wants to read Book 1 forever).
She has ulcers on her mouth a few days ago. Not HFMD. She bit her lips when she fell and ulcers developed. She came back from school. Showered, played. Ate dinner with some sambal, mind you. Even ate a piece of cut chilli. Played some more. Then, I told her that it was time for Iqra'. Suddenly, she was all whimpery. "Bibir Huda sakit." My lips hurt.
7. I was telling The Husband that I wish to be one of those zen, enlightened mothers who never have to raise their voice or invoke fear in their children to get them to do anything. But sometimes, I think that is what works.
So sometimes, shouting and rotan work hand in hand. No rotan, balloon stick (ie, the stick that comes with those balloons that they give away at events and shopping centres) also can.
8. I realise that Huda is pretty much like me in some ways. (Hopefully not the coming up with excuses part.) During the Meet-the-Parents session, her teachers told me that she didn't enjoy colouring as much as her friends. Her cikgu says she will finish the writing/matching/circling part very quickly but if she has to colour, she'll just take a colour pencil and with big big strokes, cover the picture in scrawls. And during her most recent concert, she dances like me (which is really really not saying much).
My former colleagues would attest to that. I had to take down notes to remember the steps. Something like "Wipe windows right x 3. Turn around. Wipe windows left x 3..."
And when I was a student, the subject I hated most was Art and Craft. In Primary 1, I came home crying because my teacher wanted us to draw something in our Health Education book. My mother ended up drawing it for me. This crying whenever drawing is involved is a recurrent theme in my life. Various family members would inevitably take pity on me and help me (only after rounds and rounds of laughter - at me). I was so glad to get rid of A&C by the time I was in Sec 3. But not before being a complete A&C teacher's nightmare in Sec 2.
9. Farah likes all forms of entertainment. Rough-and tumble games, nursery rhymes and being sung to are some of her likes. I'm not sure if I'm doing damage to her musical ability by singing to her. I'm really not good at anything to do with the arts. She plays rough with her sister and I know she can defend herself. She may be tiny but she packs a mighty wallop. Poor Huda has scars to show for it. No bruises, thankfully.
10. She can be a loud and boisterous child at home but the moment we are in the company of people she's not too familiar with, she will be on her guard. She takes quite some time to warm up to people. That's fine by me. I'm not sure if I want a rambunctious, boisterous child who is like that 24/7. At least in the company of others, there's an 'OFF' button even if it's temporarily.
11. I don't worry about Farah's development as much as I fussed over Huda's. Occasionally, I check the milestones and I think that Farah is moving along just fine. She's not far ahead and neither is she lagging behind her peers. What's important is I have a happy, healthy child (slightly underweight lah but not worryingly so).
As usual, it is now the wee hours of the morning. I am no longer making sense and I don't know if I myself can understand half of what I'm writing when I wake up tomorrow morning.
Saturday, July 03, 2010
Questions
1. Huda is now a very protective older sister. Overprotective, we think. The first time we noticed such behaviour, we thought it was cute. Endearing even. But now...
Farah, being all of 17 months old, wants independence. She wants lots of it. If we are at a shopping centre, she wants to walk all by herself. It doesn't matter if she's not heading where we wanna go. She does not care one bit. If I dare stop her and carry her, she'll throw a mighty fit which involves violently swinging her body and arching her back making it impossible to carry her unless you have a very firm grip. Accompanying that is of course a prolonged roaring from her. Sometimes, I'll put her down on the floor and she'll start rolling all over the floor (of the shopping centre, if you have forgotten where we were), kicking and screaming.
So, whenever she has visions of independence and we have the time, I will just let her walk about. I'll be a short distance away (about a metre or less), just enough space for her to assert her independence and for me to keep a watchful eye over her and anyone with evil thoughts on my daughter. (Having said that, however, I must tell anyone who has any intention of kidnapping her of her incessant nightly cries. The kidnappers will pay me to take her back.)
Anyway, coming back to the main point, Huda gets jittery and panicky the moment Farah is more than 5cm away from me. "Mak, mak mesti angkat Farah." Mak, you must carry Farah, says Huda in a whiny tone. "Mak tak boleh tinggalkan Farah." You cannot leave her behind.
Imagine. Every single time Farah goes wondering about (under close supervision, mind you), I will have the overprotective sister badgering me not to abandon her. Every single time. I will ask her if I have ever abandoned Farah. She will look thoughtful, realised it has never happened but continue whining anyway.
AARGH!! It drives me nuts!
What on earth can I do about this?
2. I managed to give Farah the bottle on 3 occasions on 3 consecutive nights!
She cried.
I ignored her.
Cried some more.
Ignored her again.
Cried one more time.
I made a bottle of milk.
She went back to sleep.
The bottle of milk went to the fridge.
Cried.
Milk came out of the fridge.
Too sleepy to heat it up.
Gave her the chilled milk.
She finished all 5 oz.
Next night.
She cried.
I made the milk.
Gave her the milk.
She refused.
I put inside the fridge.
Cried again.
Gave her the chilled milk.
She finished all 5 oz.
The following night, she finished all 6 oz.
So for 3 nights, she has breastmilk at around 8pm, one bottle of milk at around 2/3am and then wakes up at around 7am. This is a huge improvement from waking up 4-6 times a night for milk. Hooray!
I wonder if it's okay to give a kid chilled milk in the middle of the night. It just does not seem right.
3. H has been coughing for 3 days but I have not taken her to the clinic. Sigh. Thought she would get better using the cough medicine she received 3 months ago but looks like tomorrow will be spent waiting for our turn at the clinic. Isn't there a magical remedy for kids' cough?
4. I had been calling my girls Princess MonMon. They took turns to be Princess MonMon. Rarely were they on MonMon's throne together. Normally, it's the younger girl who ascended the throne.
Originally, MonMon is simply short for Monster.
The monstrous behaviour the younger one displayed at night started the entire thing. But ever since I started calling her that, her night-time behaviour worsened. See? My mom always tells me not to say bad things, nanti jadi do'a. Everything you say is a supplication and so, if you say nonsensical things, your request may just be granted.
So while I still call them PrincessMonMon, it is now Mon for montel. Chubby.
It's 1.35am now. I'm reeling from Brazil's loss but at least I still have Argentina.
/end of disjointed thoughts
Oh wait! One more.
5. My friend put up the song Don't Cry by Naked on her facebook wall. Mak kau.. Lagu jiwang habis seh. (Gosh.. what an emo song.) It reminds me so much of my JC days. Actually quite a few songs from the year 94/95 remind me of my JC days because that was the only period of time in my life when I used the walkman heavily. Before that, in secondary school, we were not allowed to bring such devices to school. Besides the journey to school then was too short. Clementi to Queenstown. In JC, it was Woodlands to Jurong. The walkman, along with Amelia and sometimes Nomad, was my regular travelling companion. Later on, in NUS, the walkman was hardly used because it was just too inconvenient to stuff the earphones under my tudung. Besides, the MRT provided a smooth enough ride for me to do my tutorials and readings so there was no need for entertainment.
I met my primary school friends last week and other than my classmates I am pretty clueless about my schoolmates in primary school. My memory of primary school is very hazy. In secondary school, I found a few close friends but I was still rather reticent. I woke up from my stupor in JC and that was when I started enjoying school activities and everything that life had to offer.
And so, I always remember my JC life with a lot more nostalgia and fondness than any other periods in my life. I'm gonna go into reminiscing mode now while waiting for the Uruguay-Ghana match to start.
Toodles!
Farah, being all of 17 months old, wants independence. She wants lots of it. If we are at a shopping centre, she wants to walk all by herself. It doesn't matter if she's not heading where we wanna go. She does not care one bit. If I dare stop her and carry her, she'll throw a mighty fit which involves violently swinging her body and arching her back making it impossible to carry her unless you have a very firm grip. Accompanying that is of course a prolonged roaring from her. Sometimes, I'll put her down on the floor and she'll start rolling all over the floor (of the shopping centre, if you have forgotten where we were), kicking and screaming.
So, whenever she has visions of independence and we have the time, I will just let her walk about. I'll be a short distance away (about a metre or less), just enough space for her to assert her independence and for me to keep a watchful eye over her and anyone with evil thoughts on my daughter. (Having said that, however, I must tell anyone who has any intention of kidnapping her of her incessant nightly cries. The kidnappers will pay me to take her back.)
Anyway, coming back to the main point, Huda gets jittery and panicky the moment Farah is more than 5cm away from me. "Mak, mak mesti angkat Farah." Mak, you must carry Farah, says Huda in a whiny tone. "Mak tak boleh tinggalkan Farah." You cannot leave her behind.
Imagine. Every single time Farah goes wondering about (under close supervision, mind you), I will have the overprotective sister badgering me not to abandon her. Every single time. I will ask her if I have ever abandoned Farah. She will look thoughtful, realised it has never happened but continue whining anyway.
AARGH!! It drives me nuts!
What on earth can I do about this?
2. I managed to give Farah the bottle on 3 occasions on 3 consecutive nights!
She cried.
I ignored her.
Cried some more.
Ignored her again.
Cried one more time.
I made a bottle of milk.
She went back to sleep.
The bottle of milk went to the fridge.
Cried.
Milk came out of the fridge.
Too sleepy to heat it up.
Gave her the chilled milk.
She finished all 5 oz.
Next night.
She cried.
I made the milk.
Gave her the milk.
She refused.
I put inside the fridge.
Cried again.
Gave her the chilled milk.
She finished all 5 oz.
The following night, she finished all 6 oz.
So for 3 nights, she has breastmilk at around 8pm, one bottle of milk at around 2/3am and then wakes up at around 7am. This is a huge improvement from waking up 4-6 times a night for milk. Hooray!
I wonder if it's okay to give a kid chilled milk in the middle of the night. It just does not seem right.
3. H has been coughing for 3 days but I have not taken her to the clinic. Sigh. Thought she would get better using the cough medicine she received 3 months ago but looks like tomorrow will be spent waiting for our turn at the clinic. Isn't there a magical remedy for kids' cough?
4. I had been calling my girls Princess MonMon. They took turns to be Princess MonMon. Rarely were they on MonMon's throne together. Normally, it's the younger girl who ascended the throne.
Originally, MonMon is simply short for Monster.
The monstrous behaviour the younger one displayed at night started the entire thing. But ever since I started calling her that, her night-time behaviour worsened. See? My mom always tells me not to say bad things, nanti jadi do'a. Everything you say is a supplication and so, if you say nonsensical things, your request may just be granted.
So while I still call them PrincessMonMon, it is now Mon for montel. Chubby.
It's 1.35am now. I'm reeling from Brazil's loss but at least I still have Argentina.
/end of disjointed thoughts
Oh wait! One more.
5. My friend put up the song Don't Cry by Naked on her facebook wall. Mak kau.. Lagu jiwang habis seh. (Gosh.. what an emo song.) It reminds me so much of my JC days. Actually quite a few songs from the year 94/95 remind me of my JC days because that was the only period of time in my life when I used the walkman heavily. Before that, in secondary school, we were not allowed to bring such devices to school. Besides the journey to school then was too short. Clementi to Queenstown. In JC, it was Woodlands to Jurong. The walkman, along with Amelia and sometimes Nomad, was my regular travelling companion. Later on, in NUS, the walkman was hardly used because it was just too inconvenient to stuff the earphones under my tudung. Besides, the MRT provided a smooth enough ride for me to do my tutorials and readings so there was no need for entertainment.
I met my primary school friends last week and other than my classmates I am pretty clueless about my schoolmates in primary school. My memory of primary school is very hazy. In secondary school, I found a few close friends but I was still rather reticent. I woke up from my stupor in JC and that was when I started enjoying school activities and everything that life had to offer.
And so, I always remember my JC life with a lot more nostalgia and fondness than any other periods in my life. I'm gonna go into reminiscing mode now while waiting for the Uruguay-Ghana match to start.
Toodles!
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Misery
I am miserable.
I've been spending intimate moments (line stolen from my second brother) with Johnson Suisse since 2.50am this morning. Things have come out from both ends. I am not pregnant.
I woke up in the wee hours of the morning thinking I could catch the Brazil-Chile match. But 20 minutes into the game, my stomach was having some kind of Jabulani party. And the sounds of the vuvuzelas that accompanied it..
I'm so weak and miserable now. TheHusband took the morning off to settle the kids but he couldn't take the entire day off. Farah's diaper is as dry as a bone. This is a good time to wean her off but I could barely carry her, what more deal with her violent protests should I try to stuff the milk bottle in her mouth.
Go away, upset tummy.
I've been spending intimate moments (line stolen from my second brother) with Johnson Suisse since 2.50am this morning. Things have come out from both ends. I am not pregnant.
I woke up in the wee hours of the morning thinking I could catch the Brazil-Chile match. But 20 minutes into the game, my stomach was having some kind of Jabulani party. And the sounds of the vuvuzelas that accompanied it..
I'm so weak and miserable now. TheHusband took the morning off to settle the kids but he couldn't take the entire day off. Farah's diaper is as dry as a bone. This is a good time to wean her off but I could barely carry her, what more deal with her violent protests should I try to stuff the milk bottle in her mouth.
Go away, upset tummy.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Bare
Dear Husband@work,
I was washing the dishes. I turned around and this greeted me.
Please take note of the metres of cling wrap and aluminium foil pulled out. Please also note the Ziploc sandwich bags scattered behind her.
I scolded her, shooed her away from the kitchen and went about putting things right.
Coming out of the kitchen, I saw this:
I was washing the dishes. I turned around and this greeted me.
Please take note of the metres of cling wrap and aluminium foil pulled out. Please also note the Ziploc sandwich bags scattered behind her. I scolded her, shooed her away from the kitchen and went about putting things right.
Coming out of the kitchen, I saw this:
-
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Wake-ah
WARNING: This is dreadfully dull but it's here anyway so that my dear dear children will know what they were up to when they read this blog a few years down the road.
Socceroo
I am a sometime soccer fan. I don't follow the local league; neither do I follow the European leagues but once every 4 years, I'll savour every little story about the World Cup I can get. (They can be very blistering at times but written with such wry humour - one player from France was described as "loitering without intent on the right". You just gotta read such brilliantly written stories again and again.) And it's not just the stories I read. I also stay up to catch the matches. To the detriment of my sleep. The last match of the day kicks off at 2.30am. Lest you think I paid the telcos $90+ for such a privilege, I watch it free over the internet. The wonders of technology!
Anyway. I can't sleep now not because I'm staying up for the 2.30am Denmark-Cameroon match - I've decided that I absolutely must have more than 4 hours of sleep today - but because I'm so disheartened by Australia's draw. They fought so valiantly but things were not meant to be.
Wake-ah Wake-ah. This Time For Snoozing
So, my sleeplessness means I'll be writing about my kids here.
I've decided that June is the month when I'll start attempting to wean Farah off breastmilk. I have been thinking about it for months now but something I read somewhere strenghtened my resolve. It says that you should stop when you are not enjoying it. I wasn't enjoying it anymore because this little girl could wake up up to 6 times a night for milk. Actually, it's not that she woke up for milk. She woke up for various reasons but each time, she woke up with a loud loud loud and prolonged cry. And the only way to silence her was to feed her.
Starting from the end of May, I tried to replace the middle-of-the-night feeds with plain water, fresh milk and formula milk. I tried. She threw the bottle with such vehemence when I shoved the bottle into her crying mouth. I refused to give in and let her cry. And cry. And CRY. And thrash about violently. And kick anyone who tried to come near. And arch her back so that she seemed to be in danger of snapping her neck. It was such a terrible period. She could cry (and do all of the above) for 2 hours (remember that this is in the middle of the night and I live in a quiet neighbourhood), sleep from the exhaustion for about 30 minutes and then continue crying again for about 1 hour. By 4am, I would give in and give her some milk. This went on for many many nights.
It was such a trying time.
Now, some 3 weeks after I started this, she still wakes up at 11pm/12mn. But, she will cry for about 10 minutes and then go back to sleep. Around 2am, she will cry again for about 10 minutes and then go back to sleep when she realises that she's not getting anything. Around 4am, she'll cry again and that's when she'll get some breastmilk.
Obviously, this is not weaning her off and introducing formula. But, if this is going to be her pattern for the next few months, I will find breastfeeding enjoyable again. I will have no problems continuing breastfeeding til September/October when I absolutely must start introducing the bottle to her in preparation for my return to the workforce in January next year.
Facebook
I don't like how multiply is looking more and more like a marketplace but I am stuck here because I don't like having to migrate everything in here to another location. Of course I could very well leave everything here and start afresh on a brand new location but I am very ngeow and OCD so I like everything to be together and not scattered everywhere.
Okay. I'm stopping here. I really really want to upload pictures taken recently. Maybe the next blog entry will be a pictorial entry. It's 1.25am now which means I'll get a luxurious 5-hour sleep if F does not wake up til tomorrow morning. Bye.
Socceroo
I am a sometime soccer fan. I don't follow the local league; neither do I follow the European leagues but once every 4 years, I'll savour every little story about the World Cup I can get. (They can be very blistering at times but written with such wry humour - one player from France was described as "loitering without intent on the right". You just gotta read such brilliantly written stories again and again.) And it's not just the stories I read. I also stay up to catch the matches. To the detriment of my sleep. The last match of the day kicks off at 2.30am. Lest you think I paid the telcos $90+ for such a privilege, I watch it free over the internet. The wonders of technology!
Anyway. I can't sleep now not because I'm staying up for the 2.30am Denmark-Cameroon match - I've decided that I absolutely must have more than 4 hours of sleep today - but because I'm so disheartened by Australia's draw. They fought so valiantly but things were not meant to be.
Wake-ah Wake-ah. This Time For Snoozing
So, my sleeplessness means I'll be writing about my kids here.
I've decided that June is the month when I'll start attempting to wean Farah off breastmilk. I have been thinking about it for months now but something I read somewhere strenghtened my resolve. It says that you should stop when you are not enjoying it. I wasn't enjoying it anymore because this little girl could wake up up to 6 times a night for milk. Actually, it's not that she woke up for milk. She woke up for various reasons but each time, she woke up with a loud loud loud and prolonged cry. And the only way to silence her was to feed her.
Starting from the end of May, I tried to replace the middle-of-the-night feeds with plain water, fresh milk and formula milk. I tried. She threw the bottle with such vehemence when I shoved the bottle into her crying mouth. I refused to give in and let her cry. And cry. And CRY. And thrash about violently. And kick anyone who tried to come near. And arch her back so that she seemed to be in danger of snapping her neck. It was such a terrible period. She could cry (and do all of the above) for 2 hours (remember that this is in the middle of the night and I live in a quiet neighbourhood), sleep from the exhaustion for about 30 minutes and then continue crying again for about 1 hour. By 4am, I would give in and give her some milk. This went on for many many nights.
It was such a trying time.
Now, some 3 weeks after I started this, she still wakes up at 11pm/12mn. But, she will cry for about 10 minutes and then go back to sleep. Around 2am, she will cry again for about 10 minutes and then go back to sleep when she realises that she's not getting anything. Around 4am, she'll cry again and that's when she'll get some breastmilk.
Obviously, this is not weaning her off and introducing formula. But, if this is going to be her pattern for the next few months, I will find breastfeeding enjoyable again. I will have no problems continuing breastfeeding til September/October when I absolutely must start introducing the bottle to her in preparation for my return to the workforce in January next year.
I don't like how multiply is looking more and more like a marketplace but I am stuck here because I don't like having to migrate everything in here to another location. Of course I could very well leave everything here and start afresh on a brand new location but I am very ngeow and OCD so I like everything to be together and not scattered everywhere.
Okay. I'm stopping here. I really really want to upload pictures taken recently. Maybe the next blog entry will be a pictorial entry. It's 1.25am now which means I'll get a luxurious 5-hour sleep if F does not wake up til tomorrow morning. Bye.
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