December

This is the kind of nonsense she's up to some days.

She'll take the stools, turn them upside down and get in them. Other times, she'll push the stool towards the kitchen cabinet, climb up and up and up. I once found her on the kitchen cabinet, trying to work the toaster.

Tomorrow, I'm going back to work. And it is with this thought that I'm putting up these few pictures of Huda (and everyone else) taken in the past few weks. I will no longer have the time to update as and when I please - not that I do much updating to begin with...

When I came back to work after my maternity leave ended last year, I met a mum who just came back from one year of (no-pay) childcare leave. Unlike me at that time, she felt relieved to go back to work because her son was getting naughtier and naughtier, she said. Work was a welcome break. I had similar thoughts many times throughout the year when I just could not wait to go back to work. These thoughts crept in after full days of handling a sticky toddler who seemed glued to my hips throughout her waking hours.

But now that going back to work is a reality and is happening in approximately *gasp* 14 hours, I find myself unable to part with my bub.

No Top

Today, Huda refused her top. Every time I put it on, she'd pull it off.

I gave up.

Scared

Morning sickness is horrible.

I'm not pregnant. Yet. My sis-in-law is. And she is having quite a bad bout of morning sickness.

Who came up with this term - morning sickness? It doesn't happen in the morning only. It happens ALL the time!! You feel the nausea all day, don't you? And you vomit regardless of the time, don't you? (If you don't, please don't answer this because I'll just die of envy.)

I had terrible nausea and vomiting for some 5 to 6 months of my pregnancy.

Things were not too bad when I first discovered I was pregnant. I felt mostly bloated and slightly giddy when I took buses and taxis. I felt nauseous at times but managed to suppress the vomit. I even had the gall to say that, perhaps, all this vomiting that happens in pregnancy is all in the mind. If you want to suppress it, it can be done. Cocky like anything, I was.

Just mere days later, I started throwing up. It was so bad. I was throwing up everything I ate and more. We vomited in layers, a pregnant friend and I noted. (Both of us were pregnant at the same time and between us, we suffered almost 90% of all pregnancy ailments. She's pregnant again now and she's just waiting for me to join her.) If I eat rice, then some biscuits and then some ice cream and I vomit after that, the first wave of stuff to come out will be the ice cream, then, the biscuits and then the rice. After that, out will come all the greenish bile and yucky schmucky stuff that burns your throat.

(So, if anyone says that all the food you eat will get mixed in the stomach, well, I dont think so. I've got at least 5 months of vomit-analysis under my belt.)

I remembered that I started vomiting on a Thursday. The following Thursday, I was at work, feeling so exhausted because every single thing that I ate had come out. I was also so thirsty and I took a gulp of water. Miraculously, it remained inside. I took a taxi home and once I left the taxi, I had an urgent need to vomit and out came the water, then the bile.

I felt depressed after that, I went home and started crying because I was so thirsty and weak and yet couldn't keep anything down. The next day, something important was happening at work and I had to do something there so no matter what, I had better be there.

Unfortunately, I could barely get out of bed the next day. I practically crawled to the clinic near my block and the doctor sent me off to KK because I was dehydrated.

I was hospitalised and put on a drip. The doctor took 3 tries before he managed to find a vein. He said that when a person is dehydrated, the veins would collapse so it's difficult finding a suitable place to poke the needle. (Thank goodness he was cute. Otherwise, I would have used what's left of my energy to kick him each time he poked the needle.)

Oh. And this is not a randomly-titled blog. Looking at how bad my sis-in-law's morning sickness is, I'm reminded of my horrible time and now I'm feeling a bit jittery about getting pregnant again.

Luh-Ay-Zz-Ee

I've been speaking in phonics with Huda quite a bit.

What's that, Huda? That's a bus. Buh. Ah. Sssss. Bus! And this is an - umbrella! Ah. Mm. Buh. Rrr. Eh. Lll. Ah. Umbrella! And that's why one of her first words is umbrella. Because, every time I use the umbrella, I'll repeat my "Ah. Mm. Buh. Rrr. Eh. Lll. Ah. Umbrella!".

Yes, yes. I've not updated this little space of mine for quite a while. I've been addicted to Desktop Towers and it was only the past 4 days, when I went cold turkey (and I also went across the causeway) that I managed to overcome my addiction. Or so I hope. There may be a relapse, though. That's very likely the case.

One thing I've learnt from our most recent trip is that although Huda is already a big girl - at 20 months - we still must plan all our movements around her naps, lunch and dinner. And we must be back at the hotel room by her bedtime. She is a good traveller and does not get too fussy but the poor girl has rashes all over her face, presumably because of insufficient rest and poor eating habits over the past 4 days. For our next trip, the slow cooker will be carted along and the first stop will be the supermarket to buy all the supplies for her porridge.

Talking about porridge, one of my neighbours is always sharing porridge tips with me. She takes care of her grandchildren and she often gives me suggestions as to what I can put in my porridge. She has given me some cordycep stems and some small little red seeds - the packaging says boxthorn fruit - to add to Huda's porridge to build her immunity. So I've been adding these two items in Huda's porridge for the past few weeks. Recently, she has also started adding one green apple and strawberries into the porridge, along with kurau, chicken, broccoli, carrot and spinach. And, that's what I'm going to do too. Anything, anything to make my baby eat.

And yes yes yes. I'm going back to work in less than a month. Gaaaaahhhh!!! It's THAT soon!!! The Husband suggested that I take another half a year off but at that time I thought, never mind lah. I can go back to work for a year and see how things go. Now, I'm banging my head against the wall and asking why I gave up the opportunity to be a pseudo-taitai. Sigh. But too late for regrets now.

I hear sounds coming from the room. The Little Girl is awake, I'm sure. Til next time!

 

Days in November, an expansion

I love November.

I love how it sounds. The /n/, /v/, /m/ & /b/ sounds just pleasantly rolling off your tongue.

I love the weather in November. The rainy season has begun but it's not all wet all the time. There'll be a spot of sun but it's never too harsh to burn the skin.

Years ago, November meant that it's time to bury the books cos the school year is almost over and it's just play, play and more play time. Not too long ago, November meant that the school year is (still) almost over and it's time to discard the lesson plans and it's just play, play and more play time.

But November also makes me feel melancholic. I'll think of the friends I've lost touch with. Yanni & Xiuling from Crescent. Sharifah Ainal. Shu Jiun & Shamus from JJC. 

In the past, November also meant that I'll have all the time in the world to write letters to friends. I used to do that a lot. I enjoy writing letters and receiving replies. I enjoy sitting down for hours writing to them. I enjoy reading the replies and then writing back. And sometimes, when I'm too free, I'll read the letters I've received.

Then December comes.

December means that I'm finally free ftom the shackles of work but it also means the boring 'ol school life will start all over again soon. And by December, I will try to pack my days with as much activities as possible to ensure that I won't regret the passing of the holidays when January's here. There will be no time for melancholy. It'll be fun, fun and more fun all the way through. Until the middle of December, of course when (after I've started working), I realise that there's a lot of unfinished work and I'll try to squeeze in some work into my days and nights. No more melancholy; just wondering what on earth happened to my holidays?

Overdue Stuff

I am getting terribly lazy about updating things. I don't have a good enough excuse. Oh, wait! I know - the PC's slow! Good enough?

Anyway, here's a snapshot of things that happened in the past few months.

Old Fogey

This has got to be one of the biggest signs that I'm growing older and that my brain cells are rapidly depleting.

The Husband bought me a new phone a month ago, a few days before Hari Raya. Having been used to the workings of a Sony-Ericsson phone for almost 2 years, I had a bit of a trouble adjusting to a Nokia and so when Selamat Hari Raya messages started to pour in, I could only reply almost a week after Hari Raya.

And now, a good one month after the phone's arrival, I am finally putting songs in it and splitting songs for my ringtones. Thank goodness I got to that! For a while, I thought I was gonna stick with the ringtones provided by Nokia (which would make me a super old old old fogey). I used to do these things immediately. The moment I get a new phone, I'll read the manual from cover to cover and then play with the new toy for days and days. But now, these things can wait, I suppose.

Oh, and the phone came with a 2GB memory stick (what do you call such things cos memory stick is sony's, right?) but The Husband used that for his own phone. So, as I copied songs to the phone, I told The Husband that I wanted the 2GB stick-thing back so that I could put a gajillion songs into the phone and he could have the 256MB schtick that was in my phone. Then, The Husband took a look at all the songs I wanted to copy into my phone. Total space needed = 76.8MB. Wahahahahaaaaaaaa!!! Not only am I turning into an old fart real fast, I am also having a waning interest in pop music and all sorts of pop culture stuff which is traditionally, a young-people thing.

I might as well accept old age with open arms.

November is Here Again

I love November.

I love how the word November just glides out of your mouth. Unlike April, which must be spat out or February which can be a bit of a tongue-twister.

But, November is a lovely combination of sounds.

I love November. Yet November's always the period when I feel melancholic. It must be the weather, I guess. When it's rainy, it somehow makes the heart feel heavy.

Pick Me Up, Wasabe

If you need a pick-me-up, do click this link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TtJRNyPK-lc&NR=1

P.S.: The subtitles are not the translation of the song. It's what the song sounds like to the English ear.

P.P.S.: My brother sent me this link. Don't ask which one.

Mop

Ajax Fabuluso!! I've been looking for you all over the house! We used up the big bottle and I knew you were somewhere in the house but you refused to surface until we've bought a new bottle! Grrrrrr!

Cough Cough

I wanted to write about today's Mind Your Body's article about not feeding cough and cold medicines to children under 2.

Of course I'm happy because I've always been anti-chemicals. I believe in letting your body fight it out. (Although now that I'm a mom to a little dynamo, a quick -chemical- fix is sometimes just what I need.)

Then, I wrote lengthy paragraphs on products grown/produced/modified unnaturally.Perfectly red/green capsicums (hydroponically grown in controlled greenhouses, of course). Rice that resists pests. Trans fats.

But, it turned out a very long, rambling entry and I was sounding more and more like.. like.. *gasp* myself (!!!) I deleted the paragraphs away.

I wonder, how much of what we're eating is affecting our insides without us realising it. We may look all healthy and well on the outside but all the health woes of today - cancers of all types, newer and more virulent strains of the common cold, fertility issues, clogged arteries - I wonder if all these 'new foods' that we eat are responsible for the increasing medical problems of today.

I think it's just a matter of time before I start choosing organic items over their suspiciously produced counterparts. But, well, if my time in the kitchen is always more like a hazardous science experiment than anything else, it seems like it'll be a loooooong while before I can turn those organic products into tasty, healthy and most importantly, edible dishes.

 

Coughing again. Robitussin? I'll pass this time.

 

 

Dolls

Huda had her 18-month check-up at KK (19.5 months, real age; 18 months, corrected age) and prior to that, we worried about her speech. According to the 18-month questionnaire we were supposed to fill up (or is it fill in?), she should be able to say 8 other words besides Mak and Ayah. We listed down all the words she knew and came up with a grand total of 6 words.

1. Air (Water, in Malay)

2. Nanna (Nenek = Grandmother)

3. Buh (Bird)

4. Bah (Ball)

5. Ambba (Umbrella) - Loooong story why umbrella is in this list

6. Nak ni (Want this, in Malay)

 

Of course we were concerned because the other items in the list were an ability to form three 2-word sentences and one 3-word sentence. For which we ticked the pleasantly-worded 'Not Yet'.

 

So, we thought. Confirm oredi. Speech therapist, here we come. On top of the physiotherapist, occupational therapist and dietitian that we are already seeing.

 

But, alhamdulillah! Her neonatologist said, although she scored below the cut-off point for the speech component, we do not need to worry because Huda maintains eye-contact when we talk to her, is sociable, understands our requests and does not have any hearing problems. So, whew! What a sigh of relief we heaved! 

 

And, more good news followed: her physiotherapist and occupational therapist discharged her! Wooooohoooooooooooo!! 2 less specialists to see. Now, if only we can get her to eat and bulk up, we can cross out the dietitian from the list too.

 

But, well, in the height and weight department, Huda's at the 3rd percentile for her height (Wooooohooooooooooooohooooooooooooooooo!!! Finally, she's on the charts!) but still below the 3rd percentile for weight. But, okay lor. She's been gaining a bit of weight in the past few weeks. And, she's been eating well. So, hopefully, she'll gain more weight when we next see the dietitian 4 months from now.

 

So that was it.

 

Totally unrelated to the above - I realise that my skin looks so much better after a bout of fever. My pimples seem to have dried up and almost disappeared. And, I must remember that I am still allergic to Panadol.

Warm Like Chicken Poo-Poo

There's this Malay saying that means, warm like chicken shit. So crass, hor? It means, you have a desire to do something but, this desire lasts only a short while. And you end up either abandoning it mid-way or not doing it at all. (It describes a lot of my 'projects' perfectly.)

Ever since I saw my mom's crocheted tablecloth and not able to find it (for sale) anywhere, I've been thinking of crocheting or knitting. With my newfound skill, I can also knit cute little hats for Huda and even knit hats for the preemies at KK! So exciting!

This is insane because my mother tried teaching me crochet before but I was just too inept at needlework to form anything decent.

So, now, with a tablecloth in mind as an end-product, I am seriously thinking of starting to crochet again.

I then went on to do a bit of research (looking at online forums of avid needlework fans) which  sent shivers down my spine - skein, 4mm hooks, 8mm hooks, threads of varying thickness...So many things to consider! Where do I begin?

Reality then hits home. I shall just wait it out - see when all these desires will end.

Ratu Kebaya 2007

The granddaughters of Datok P and Nenek S were all decked out in baju kebaya. The first Kebaya Kasualty was Ain Sofiya who regurgitated her mother's milk onto her white baju kebaya. She fell out of the competition even before it started. The rest lasted long enough for the posse of very enthusiastic photographers (darn! no one took pictures of the overexcited photogs!) to snap, snap and snap away.

Bag of Emotions

What???!!!

It's already the 27th of Ramadan??! Hari Raya is just mere days away???!!!!!!!!!!

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What happened to the rest of Ramadan? Where did it go?????

My house is in a mess. We're still supposed to look for a coffee table. Tablecloth - no have! Window grilles yet to be wiped. Oh no no no no noooooooooooooo!!!

Why?? Why on earth do we leave all these things to be done at the very last minute?

At least, in a few hours, a handyman is coming to fix the curtain rods in the rooms. For the past 4 years, we do not have curtains in the bedrooms! Hahahaaaa!!! (Don't ask.)

Okay. So, there's like a gazillion things to do.

And, we want to visit that dear friend of ours who has just given birth! And another dear friend is preggers! Weeeeheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!! I'm so excited! i'm so excited! It's raining babies!

(Okay. Now I can see why things do not get done around here. My train of thoughts always gets derailed.)

Ooohhh.. And if you are into the tearjerker Petronas' Hari Raya commercials, here's this year's. I diligently watch RTM 1 as Hari Raya approaches to catch the commercials. Sob sob.

Another Whiny Story

Yes. Yes.

I'm whining again. And I hope this is the last of all whining about weaning.

I must count all the good things that have taken place lately like:

1. Huda slept from 8pm to 6am last night. She could have slept longer but we purposely woke her up so that she could drink some milk so that she would not wake up at 7am when we were dreadfully sleepy.

2. She's sleeping longer and longer through the night and I have so much free time now. In the past, she would wake up about 11pm, asking for (breast)milk and so, my time alone without a little girl hanging on to my hips was very limited.

3. She's eating more now because she knows that she cannot just lift up my T-shirt and get a snack whenever she wants to. 7-11 close liao.

4. I no longer have to watch what I eat, always making sure I have a palm-size portion of fish/chicken/meat, a mountain of rice, vegetables, gallons of water, gallons and gallons of milk and soya bean... If I'm hungry, I don't have to worry that it will affect the quality of my milk. I now eat for me alone and it's such a relief because if I don't feel like eating the proteins, I can easily skip it for the day.

I've weaned her off. (Although occassionally, when I can't stand the engorgement, I let her have some and she'll be grinning away after that. Tomorrow, confirm I need her to have some really fresh milk cos the left side is getting uncomfortably hard after 2 days of "No! No! You cannot have this. You must drink milk from the bottle.")

Hana said, I should quickly produce the next one so that I can continue my breastfeeding career. Yes, soon. After all, that's one of the two reasons why I weaned her off.

---

And, once, I had to throw away all this milk because there's no way my fridge could store all these. These are the ones that we brought to KK Hospital every evening some 18 months ago. When she was discharged, we brought back about 20 bottles and kept the rest at KK, thinking of bringing them back one day. But, fridge space not enough. So, I had to ask KK to get rid of them. Sad.

 

Circuit.Cookie.Shitty.Bang Bang.

This is one of those I-did-this-I-did-that entry. (Read: Bo.o.o.o.oring)

1. My maiden attempt at the circuit during my driving lesson just now .. Wah leow! I'm gonna fail big time xiaaaa!! Just when I thought I'm pretty okay on the roads, my instructor brought me to the circuit where I mounted all the kerbs there were. Thankfully, there was only 1 other car there. Otherwise, I would have crashed into all the cars. Doesn't help that I have very little spatial awareness. And, once I've made a mistake, I won't even know left from right. But, one thing I'm grateful for is that my instructor is patient. He'll nag, yes. But he doesn't scold me for my stupidity.

2. Cookies! My sisters and I baked Milo Chocolate Chip Cookies just now. It's the one and only thing I'm baking 'cos I've ordered the other Hari Raya staples. I'm amazed by how fast we completed baking - it could be because all the little kids were sleeping. And, unlike previous years, no one bailed out midway although my older (is it older or elder?) sister and I threatened our younger sister that we'd go home at 3pm and leave everything hanging. Hahaaa! We're evil, eh? :P (Wednesdays are good to carry out projects like this cos the older sister takes Wednesdays off - her 3rd month maternity leave - and the younger sister has no classes on Wednesdays.)

3. Weaning's a bitch. Please pardon my unrefined English. I hate the pangs of guilt I have when Huda's constipated. Her first time in her entire life today. She was trying so hard to push her poo out but it refused to come out. The poor girl was crying in pain. I applied Minyak Telon (the Malay/Indonesian version of ru yi oil but a bit milder) and massaged her bloated tummy. After many, many massage sessions and frantic calls to my mother and sister, it finally came out. The guilt? Oh, I'm quite sure that the constipation is related to her not having breastmilk. You can't convince me otherwise, no matter what. Sob sob.

4. Talking about weaning - Huda's taking to the bottle quite well. She's drinking up to 6 ounces of milk a time with that half teaspoon of Milo added, of course. I should be celebrating but a part of me feels soooo saaaaaad to say goodbye to breastfeeding. When will all these feelings go away? I've read about this - that weaning comes with a huge dose of guilt but will it come to an end? 16 years down the road, when Huda's down with a cough, will I think that it's related to my weaning her off at 18 months? Sigh.

Take Care, Miss Lim!

Lately, this part of my Multiply site is looking more and more like some message board.

Kailing, have a great, great, great time in UK! I so envy you for being able to take time off to study. At UK, some more. Tsk. That was my dream a looooong time ago but well, knowing me and my procrastinating ways, it has yet to materialise. Instead, I've been bugging Man to go and find a course to do there for a year while I continue my taitai ways there.

You'll definitely miss your family very much in the first few weeks but don't let that stop you from achieving your dreams. You'll feel much better by the 3rd month, I'm sure. :) Burying yourself in your work is perhaps a good way to distract yourself. So, perhaps, it's a blessing that the delays cropped up so you won't have much time to miss your loved ones.

But one year is not that long. Just look at my NPL; it's almost coming to an end. So, we'll meet again soon.

Take care and I'm sorry I can't be there in December!! (If only they have a flight with a huge playroom - ummm.. there is, I realise. I just have to charter my own flight.)

888

Ai Li, you cannot keep your table neat, huh? I also cannot. As if you don't know. I think there must be a course somewhere in TRAISI on this.

And so here are random facts about me and (can I cheat? of course I can) people around me.

1. I keep on forgetting if Ai Li's name is spelled Aili or Ai Li. There are some things which my brain is simply not wired for and spelling is one of them. I can't spell occasion/ocassion and I can't figure out if it's spelled or spelt. Sometimes, things like that bother me enough to get out of the bed at night and check the dictionary.

2. That brings me to #2. I am becoming quite an insomniac this year. My brain will be whirring with activity even when the rest of my body is screaming for sleep. I think it's because the first two years of motherhood is physically challenging but not so taxing mentally so my brain (should it be brain or brains cos we do have a set of two brains, right?) is severely underused and it returns the favour at about 1 am in the morning.

3. I can tolerate messiness but dirt is not a friend. If a place is very dirty and I'm stuck there for a while, I'll get depressed. Seriously depressed. But it has to be terribly dirty to make me depressed. A bit of dust here and there in someone else's house does not bother me. In fact, I feel relieved that other people have problems with dust too. Sometimes, I find myself trying to surreptitiously wipe the dust off other people's TV cabinets. NO, you may not invite me to your house when you are doing spring cleaning. My siblings used to think that I have OCD. Because I'll be mopping the floor of my room at 11.30pm at night. I used to be unable to sleep in an unmade bed. Hmm. I think I did have OCD. I also married the right person because my husband cannot tolerate messiness. So, between us, our place looks pretty okay. We just have no eye for design.

4. And that gives me an idea for #4! Our house is very, very plain. It's very functional but no spot in the house will make it into the pages of home decoration magazines. I am aesthetically handicapped. And The Husband is only interested in having things at right angles and correct symmetry. (He's another OCD case, I'm sure.)  How handicapped am I? In primary school, whenever drawing was involved, I'd cry non-stop and my mother would end up drawing for me. My mother was not so free to draw for me all the time so there was once in Primary 3 when I had to draw a picture of a goat. Of course, I cried and cried the whole night but nobody wanted to help me. In the end, my 5-year-old brother drew the goat for me. That is still a story exchanged at family gatherings. In secondary 1 & 2, my mother and sister did some of my art work for me. In Sec 2, one of my art work was put up in class. But it wasn't mine. It was conceptualised by me, drawn by my mother and painted by my sister.

WAH!! From not quite knowing what to write at first, I've written 4 rather lengthy paragraphs about my deepest, darkest secrets! Now, for 4 more.

5. There are times when I just have a strong and urgent need to break into Singlish. These moments usually surface in the middle of an English Language class or when I'm in a meeting with complete strangers. I can't! I can't!! I'm a fraud! I don't speak English! Singlish is my first language!

6. If I need to poo, I almost always rush back home for it. I can't poo satisfactorily in public toilets. Because I hover. This, I'm quite sure, is related to my OCD.

7. A few days ago, my mother was rearranging a part of the house and she moved the entire box of albums from one area to another. I took a look at the albums and it is for the sake of world peace, international harmony and well, generally being concerned about everyone's welfare, photos of myself from the time I started wearing Coke-bottle glasses (Primary 4) to the time I discovered contact lenses (NUS, Year 1) will be banned from the public space. The photos are frightening. If you are pregnant, you should not look at them. Those photos are the type that can make even the most good-natured child bawl and not sleep the entire night. SCARY. If you happen to go to my mother's house for whatever reason, do not go near the shelf where she puts the photo albums. Please treat this as a warning and I shall not be liable for any permanent damage you may face as a result of viewing such photos.

8. Thank you for  reading up to this point. I think if you have successfully read up to this point, I should reward you with something short and sweet to end all revelations about myself. So, I shall end this with a piece of secret which is really embarrassing. I'm scared to death of irregular shaped sponge. (There's yet another long story to go with that but I think you should be very breathless and tired by now so I'll spare you.)

Hmm. That wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be. Reading would be a pain, though.

Thank You, Mrs Kong!

BIRD!!!!!

Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!! Thank you for suggesting Milo!

Last night, I added half a teaspoon of Milo to Nan 3. (I think Milo + goat milk would have tasted so weird cos goat milk stinks real bad.) I wasn't expecting much cos the last time I added Milo to her Pediasure, she didn't like it much. But, Rohana reminded me about the 8-10 exposures, so I should give it another shot.

At first, Huda flatly refused the bottle and when I tried spoonfeeding her, she pushed my hand away, spilling her milk all over the mattress. GRRRRRR.

Then, she got tired of fighting and took the bottle.

She started drinking - 20 ml - before she passed the bottle back to me.

She tossed and turned and when she finally found a comfortable position on my lap, she took the bottle from my hands and finished everything up! I just have to repeat that. Finished  E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G.

It was 12.30am. The Husband & I just could not stop gushing about how Huda guzzled everything.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Irrelevant Pictures of Huda in a Something-That's-Supposed-To-Be-A-Sari

Weber

Now that I am attempting to wean Huda off, there are two unintended consequences of this process.

1. Huda doesn't wake up as often at night

Woohooooooooooo!!! This means, I am finally having better sleep at night. I have not yet reached the stage of an uninterrupted 6 hours of sleep but 4 hours of continuous snooze is good.

 

Last night, she only woke up at 1am and 6am, after going to sleep at 8pm. Nice.

 

2. She's eating more

Woooooooohoooooohoooooooooooooooooo!!! Finally! This is most probably the result of rejecting all the bottled milk that I've been trying to give her. Now, she's eating a slice of bread for breakfast, a couple of biscuits in between meals, 4 tablespoons of rice/porridge for lunch, another slice of bread for tea and 4 more tablespoons of rice/porridge for dinner. Ooookay. Some of you are rolling your eyes. Big deal for some, I know. But this little kid used to make her momma cry when she only took 2 teeny eeeny little bites for lunch and that was it. She's one fussy eater. Still is. But at least she's eating more now. And I must be grateful for that.

 

 

However. There is still that little problem with the bottle of milk. She's beginning to reject it with greater frequency and ferocity these days. That, I'm having great difficulty dealing with. But I'll save that for another day, hoping and praying that she will hate the bottle less.

The Kite Runner

Rohana, babe. This is the long reply to your SMS. ;)

When I saw your SMS, I was pretty excited about the movie too. I have to admit that I prefer Splendid Suns to Kite Runner. But I suppose because I read Splendid Suns first, I had ridiculously high expectations of Kite Runner. Kite Runner seems to have too neat a story. Everything is perfectly connected and seamless. Like, it's so easy to find a kid at an orphanage in Afghanistan? Afghanistan is a country with only one orphanage and say, 14 kids in it? Still, I thought, must watch.

Then I saw that report in today's Straits Times.

That the boy acting as the young Hassan is paid USD10, 000. Yes, that's a lot of money in a country where teachers are paid USD70. What's the going rate for child actors these days? I'm not too sure of the amount but I'm pretty certain that movies made by big, big companies with deep, deep pockets normally pay lead roles a lot more than USD10, 000?

And, the boy's family is worried about the rape scene in the movie. When the father expressed his concern, he was told that they would cut the scene? Somehow, I find that dificult to believe because the rape scene is an integral part of the story. It's when things seriously change. Were the big movie execs just trying to placate the father?

I dunno.

Now, I have misgivings about this movie.  :(

Weaning Ways

Part 2 of my attempt to wean Huda off breastmilk (this is for raggedyanne, whose nunu is a hantu t*t*k)

I told myself to diligently jot down the amount of milk that she drinks, what time it is, how long it takes to finish that amount, whether she can finish the amount etc BUT, this 'myself' who's tasked with the job simply made mental notes and nothing, absolutely nothing, on paper. Sigh. Now, how on earth am I supposed to crunch the data and figure out the whats, whens, whys and hows of weaning with no statistical back-up? Nad, you cow.

So far, I've fed her goat milk (stinks; but she liked it), Pediasure (nope), Nan 3 (okay in small amounts) and Dugro 1 Plus (she finished it but only if spoonfed). Each time I put in 2 moderately heaped teaspoons of the milk powder and added water til it reached the 100ml mark on the Avent bottle. Why Avent? Because, someone told me that the teats are big and if the kids can be duped, they can think that the silicone stuff around their lips is their mothers' breasts. (Sidetrack a bit - can those who've had silicone implants breastfeed?)

Day 3 of Weaning is okay. In the morning, she took about 40ml of Nan 3, spoonfed. And in the afternoon 80ml of Dugro 1 Plus. (I was supposed to make 100ml but I stopped pouring water at the 80ml mark and hmmm... I dunno leh? Why I never go on to 100, ah? \bimbo)

She also did not nurse to sleep. Hooray! Ah, this one is another story. For the past few weeks, in preparation for that one day when I would start weaning Huda off, I have stopped nursing Huda to sleep. In the past, it would be me spending an hour or more, lying down in the room, breastfeeding Huda. But, a few weeks ago, I would feed her in the living room and when she's had her fill, I'd pass her to The Husband who would make her sleep (by gripping her tightly, completely preventing her from moving about, tolerating her 140-decibel cries) and she would sleep in 10 minutes or less. Such miracle!

Of course, some days, she would fall asleep while being nursed in the living room. I think she purposely fell asleep to avoid her father's Sleep Grip (registered trademark).

So, where was I?

On Day 1, after she took in even more milk at 2am in the morning (errrrrr... I practically sat on her, stuffed the bottle into her mouth and held her head in place using my knees - do I hear the sound of someone calling some ministry to complain about child abuse? :PPPPPP), she fell asleep again. As I looked at her innocent sleeping face, I started feeling the pangs of guilt and overwhelming feeling of sadness that mothers who have successfully weaned their children feel. I questioned myself, doubted my decision, almost regretted my decision, thought of not going through with my decision. Sigh. Why is it so difficult?

I initially thought I had gone through hell when I tried to make Huda latch on direct after her 1 and half month stint in the hospital. But, no. Hell is weaning. The process is tough but the battle you have to wage within yourself is worse. Feelings vacillate from hour to hour. Like, now. I'm engorged. Should I just let her have the freshest milk possible? Or should I persist and let her have bottled milk? I can't bring myself to hand-express and see all the milk wasted. Gaaaaaaaaahhh!!!

---

Psssssst - For those who shudder at my liberal use of the word breast, sorry hor? But childbirth and breastfeeding (and having the lactation consultant knead your breasts like it's some prata dough) will desensitise you. Breasts are not so sexual anymore. They are merely milk bottles. Only better. So convenient. No sterilising needed. Milk is fresh all the time. Sigh. There I go again.

Goat

This entry has nothing to do with ants, broken speaker stands or glasses.

I am now actively trying to wean Huda off breastmilk. It has been 18 months; my target was 2 years but I think I've got to start weaning her off NOW if

a) I intend to return to the workforce (boohoohooo!!!) in January and not have to pump; and

b) I want baby #2 to appear before I turn 40

This morning, I decided to try Karihome's Goat Milk on the kid. And she managed to take 30ml of it, spoonfed. My sister-in-law managed to spoonfeed 4 ounces of milk to my niece. That's almost 120ml! If every tiny spoonful is about 0.5ml, she would have to stuff the spoon into her daughter's mouth a gazillion times!!

Just now, the little kid woke up from sleep and insisted on more breastmilk, direct from the source, mind you. I sooooooooooooooo regret not pumping diligently when I started going on my no-pay-leave. For baby #2, I am definitely going to insist on the kid downing at least one bottle of expressed breastmilk daily. That way, weaning won't be as tough as it is now.

So, I gave her 10 minutes of breastmilk after which I prepared 2 ounces of goat's milk. I spoonfed her and, she took in about 10ml. Then, I tried making her drink from the bottle like it's a cup (no teats; she was playing with the teat) and the smell must have put her off. She put the teat on the bottle so I screwed it on for her and she started drinking the milk from the bottle!!!!

She didn't take much. Only about 30ml. But, it's a good start.

I have already made my baju kurung with zippers by the side. It's okay if I don't have to pull down the zippers this Hari Raya. I am slowly warming up to the idea of having a thermos flask, powdered milk, bottled water, bottles, bottle warmers and the entire milk-making paraphernalia in the luggage that I'll have to lug around during Hari Raya visiting.

Another Object Broken

Dear Husband,

Your daughter has not been at her best behaviour.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.

Ants

SATURDAY, 1.30PM

I pulled out a file in which I kept recipes cut out from magazines.

As I was lying down and flipping through the plastic folders which I have not touched for more than a year, I noticed ants.

More ants.

More, more ants.

AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!! An entire colony of ants have set up home in one of the folders!!

I held the file with my trembling fingers, stifled my scream (because Huda was beside me and she must not grow up a wimp like me - if not, who will help me clean up ant colonies when I'm old and decrepit and The Husband is equally old and decrepit?), threw the file into the sink and turned on the tap to drown the ants. (Yes, I AM cruel.)

With chattering teeth and hair raising on its ends, I banged on the toilet door where The Husband was and asked for help. The Husband, always amused by how cockroaches and lizards do not send me scurrying to him, grinned cos he knew that hero worship time had come.

I looked at the shelf where the file came from and (yikes! yikes! yikes!!) there the rest of the ants, quickly forming a thick black line moving off to an undisclosed location, far away from the recipe books shelf. Shivering with extreme ickiness, I pointed to the shelf and Hero Husband once again came to the rescue and wiped away the remaining ants.

"Maybe, they were attracted to the picture of the foods in your file," Hero Husband explained. "They wanted to eat the food."

 

SUNDAY, 4.30AM

I woke up for Sahur and I saw a thick black line snaking from behind the microwave oven to a cupboard above the recipe book shelf.

Hero Husband swiftly went into action. He wiped off the ants, found out where they were heading - the nest was rapidly being built, whitish powdery substances lacing disposable paper plates which were then immediately disposed - and anihilate, anihilate, annihilate.

 

SUNDAY, 10AM

An occasional ant spoted here and there, killed at sight by Wimpy Wife. Another ant sighted. Squashed. Three ants having a conference. Die, die, die!

 

MONDAY, 5.15AM

"You know, ah, ever since we started our war on ants, they seem to have disappeared. They no longer appear in our water jug," Wimpy Wife told Hero Husband.

"That's what you think. They are regrouping, planning their next strategy, planning their revenge."

"Do you think they'll know it's me?"

"Yeah. You better be scared. They are going to attack you while you sleep. Enter your ears and nose. Beware."

Gulp.

Men, Women and ?

I thought my sister was pulling my leg. But, no. It's true.

From Channel News Asia's website:

First Tree Climbing Championship attracts over 20 participants

SINGAPORE: It was literally a race to the top when over 20 participants took part in Singapore's first tree climbing competition.

It took place in Dhoby Ghaut and using a rope and saddle, the climbers were seen pulling themselves up skilfully.

The participants are judged on their footwork and poise and are also awarded points each time they reach a new target.

The competition was divided into three categories - men, women and foreign workers. ...  http://www.channelnewsasia.com/stories/singaporelocalnews/view/299854/1/.html

FOREIGN WORKERS?????!!!!!!!

Space

I have been sending blog entries via email and I hate how there's a huge space between paragraphs when I press Enter.

I shall no longer be pressing Enter twice.

This has been a rather meaningless post.

WAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!

Sleep Mode

An idle mind is not good.

 

So how do you keep a mind occupied?

 

By going to work?

 

Surely there must be other means.

Fears

Hmm.

 

My fears, many.

 

Heh heh.

 

I fear that:

 

1. I will become too tired without living my life.

 

Among other things.

 

But now, I must get some sleep because the alarm clock says I have about 3 hours and 46 minutes before the alarm goes off.

A Woman of Nice Substance

After days of internal questioning, I've figured out the problem that kept me awake at night.

 

I fear that I am becoming substance-less.

 

When I look at others, I realise that besides having great brains (which then makes me feel like a retard), they also have beliefs and values that they strongly hold to.

 

Me?

 

I am never militant about my beliefs - be they religion, breastfeeding, service quality, you get the idea. Never.

 

Then, there's the realisation that I am actually a boring person. I listen to people but I don't provide quality comments, opinions or advice. I'm just a listener, a sponge.

 

There was once The Husband told me, after I related my experience with him, that my behaviour was okay because it was important to have principles. And now, I can't even remember what had irked me so much that I stood my ground.

 

But, that's the thing about me. Even if something annoyed me, I would (normally) just keep it to myself and tell The Husband about it later. I do not stand up for my beliefs.

 

Which then reminds me about something that happened in Secondary 4 when my English teacher made us think of adjectives that alliterate with our names. Not being able to think of any adjectives which really applied to me, I said, I am Nice Nad. And Miss Lim Q F immediately banned the word Nice, because 'nice' is - I can't remember what exactly she said - meaningless, or something like that. So, I think I said I was Narcissistic Nad, which I'm not because I really don't care much about my appearance. But I couldn't put my name together with any other adjectives beginning with N - necrophiliac? narcotic? nasty?

 

Anyway, nice.

 

Nice people are boring and spineless.

 

Is that what I am?

 

Perhaps.

Broke

What does it mean to be broke?

 

I know a woman who had to forgo discounted diapers at NTUC because if she bought the diapers, she'd have absolutely no money for her transport to work for the next 2 days.

 

I am thankful that I do not have to face such a dilemma.

 

Money (for now) is enough for the three of us even though we are living on one income. I can still afford extras like taxi rides. Alhamdulillah.

 

I'm going back to work next year to build a bigger nest-egg.

 

What am I saving for? I have no idea. As it is, my savings remain pretty much untouched now.

 

But, I fear that a day will come when I'll be broke. How that will happen, I have no idea but the thought that such a day may come is very scary.

 

 

Crooked and Broken

This is my fourth pair this year.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Her fingerprints are all over it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pokemon Cards

I am soooooo tickled by this:

http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=130144061675

Red House

Once upon a time, there lived Papa Red

 

Mama Red

 

and cute little Baby Red.

 

And they lived happily ever after.

The End.

My Cousin's Wedding

We crossed the border over the weekend to see my cousin get married. There's no need to explain the pictures of course which is just as well cos my brain juices have somehow dried up and I can't quite figure out what to write for each picture. It's self explanatory, no? And of course, every trip to KL must, must, must be gastronomically indulgent which explains the trip to that steakhouse. We also discovered that Carl's Jr is now in KL but the outlet at Megamall wasn't open for business yet. Boohooohooo!! We are soooooo going there again soon for Carl's Jr. I love, love, love (halal) food in KL!! Errr... How did something that's supposed to be about Fairul & Halimaton turn into a food-fest? We love, love, love Fairul & Halimaton too. Presenting, Fairul & Halimaton's wedding!

17 going on 2

How has Huda grown and developed?

(This is an attempt to redo the progress report that I have killed off.)

One of my major concerns with Huda is her appetite and her (poor) weight gain. She's 7kg now, still below the 3rd percentile but not that far off. The target is to reach 8kg by her 18th month and I really hope we can achieve that. That caloric powder her dietitian prescribed may be helping her to gain weight. There are occasions when she'll eat a lot. She likes biryani rice, prata and corn kernels. If I cook her porridge with corn kernels and fish, she'll just pick on the corn kernels.

 

 

Sweet Seventeen

I was writing a 'progress report' of sorts, about Huda at 17 but I clicked a few wrong buttons (one of which is that X at the corner of the page), and my lengthy report disappeared.

Why am I writing progress reports? Could it be because I heard it's CA week in most schools and I'm not around to enjoy it? Heh.

E is for Exhausted

Lately, I notice that I have been exhorting people to enjoy their pre-baby lives and in the process, I may have painted such an unsavoury picture of motherhood.

-

I was about to write a long whiny post about how all pregnant mothers (and all females who intend to be mothers) must absolutely treasure all the free time they have now before the baby comes along.

But, I can't bring myself to do it. Because, when Huda's sleeping (like she is now), she looks like an angel and nowhere near the little Terror who tires me out in five minutes flat. (Maybe I need to exercise more)

-

I'm still awake cos I read A Thousand Splendid Suns earlier and can't get it out of my head.  It's an excellent read but why can't it let me sleep?

Sometimes

It's been a month (or two? or three?) since I last uploaded photos here. It's inertia. Which Mr KBW says is the reason why parents do not insure their children. But we're not such inert(?) parents cos we just insured Huda. Anyway, these are random pictures of Huda. Somehow, the parents didn't make the cut this time round. So here's Huda doing some everyday stuff.

And sometimes, the mother is completely irrelevant.

Today's Entry is Brought to You by the Letter R

It was the English Oral Exam and I was testing some Primary 1 kids.

A boy came to me and I asked for his name. (The story is true but I'm giving him a new name so as to protect his identity.)

"Hanif," he replied, his eyes locked on his feet.

I scanned the class register in front of me looking for a Hanif and found Muhammad Hanif Ikhsan Bin Mohd R; the father's name truncated to fit into a computer system that prefers brevity.

"Are you Muhammad Hanif Ikhsan Bin Mohd R?"

He nodded.

"And what does the R stand for?" I asked, thinking that a casual question like that would put the boy at ease.

He looked up, wondered if this was part of the exam and replied, "R is for rabbit."

Z is for Zebra

Sometimes, at unearthly hours of the morning when sleep should have overcome me a long time ago, I find myself tossing and turning in bed thinking of inconsequential stuff. Sigh.

So, today's inconsequential stuff is breastfeeding in baju kurung. Which is very inelegant.

As the baju kurung top is a long dress which reaches your knee and it is really quite ungainly to pull up your baju kurung all the way up to breastfeed your hungry child, I've been wearing the front-buttoning baju kebaya whenever the occasion calls for a traditional outfit. I don't like wearing the baju kebaya  top because too loose, it'll look unflattering and too tight, all my post-natal bulges will be up for scrutiny.

I fell in love with some songket that my sister-in-law (syarni.multiply.com - go and buy!!)  is selling but I don't fancy turning them into baju kebaya cos I don't intend to breastfeed Huda til she's 8 but the kebaya (barring any more undesirable bulges) will last beyond that.

(My sentences are getting longer and more convoluted the later I go to sleep. This is ridiculous. So I shall now punctuate all my sentences. midway needlessly like so . just so that I. don't get breathless just looking at them.)

So I thought, I shall just turn the songket into baju kurung and unbecoming or not, will just expose my flabby one-pack for all to see when the girl cries for milk? Oh no!

And then came the most super duper brilliant idea that I've ever thought of (next only to my decision to buy a Turbo Tiger) which is to put zippers by the sides so that I can just unzip, twist and feed.

So, my baju kurung for Hari Raya will come with zippers on the sides. Woohooo! Let's hope that the makcik who's going to sew my baju kurung will not throw the songket in my face and tell me to go zip myself up.

Charge

Yayyyy!!!!

Harry Potter's not gay!

And, I also wonder if they ever need to charge their magic wands?

I'm dying to talk about Deathly Hallows but gotta keep my mouth shut until more people have finished reading the book.

HelP.

I don't normally write often here but I'm having real trouble keeping Harry Potter (what a nondescript so-not-hero name that is) and friends (and foes) out of my head.

After rereading Half-Blood Prince on Wednesday (yes, I bought the book), I told myself that I shall make Thursday and Friday Harry-Potter-free days yet my dreams are still tormented by Dementors. (And I cant help re re reading...)

Tomorrow's only Friday? Gaaaahhh!! I need Saturday to come real quick!!

Unrelated stuff:

 

a. Notes to self:

1. Practise that half-clutch and next driving lesson, I can only kill the engine a maximum of 2 times

2. Fill in the insurance forms

3. Book a date for the driving test

 

b. I quite like the Anthologies of Love series. A welcome change from all the reruns and kiddy shows on prime time (Spell Cast, for example).

 

c. I finally know why Huda babbles in Tamil. My teen neighbour living on the first floor often has conferences with his pals around Huda's bedtime and I suppose, that's the language that makes the most impression on her.

 

d. Final note to self: Never attempt to cut Huda's hair on my own anymore.

Mosquito

Should I? Should I? Should I?

I've been revising my Harry Potter by reading the books again. In the past, a lifetime ago, I could easily finish Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix in a day (sleep, eat, poo, pee, bath, social life all sacrificed to do the all-important). Now? I've been reading it from Friday and still have not finished. I can't re-read Half-Blood Prince because my brother, to whom we sent the book when he was still in Egypt cannot find the book now. As I'm anal-retentive, I've got to buy the book so that I have a nice, complete collection. And that reminds me, Prisoner of Azkaban is also missing. I remember lending it to someone (but I can't remember who) and it's still missing.

Anyway, I now have two choices.

1. Order the final instalment and collect it at 7am on Saturday morning and then spend the entire weekend reading it, only ocassionally (I hate this word cos I'm still not sure whether it's double c single s or double s single c so I anyhow spell) lifiting up my shirt to feed Huda (who will be in the good hands of The Husband throughout the weekend)

OR

2. Wait for my sister to finish reading her copy and borrow the book from her but must bear her gloating that she finished reading it first and that she knew who died

Of course, I have other problems like some of the books are paperbacks and some are hard covers. So, all these will affect my collection somewhat. I *am* super-duper anal about these things. Maybe, I should just wait for the boxed set to be released.

I think my insane side which I have successfully (really?) repressed is showing up more regularly now.

Rat

The Husband, siblings and I were playing Pictionary and they knew that I had to draw an animal whenever I laughed like a maniac. My inability to draw is legendary. After many failed attempts and what looked more like charade than Pictionary, someone managed to guess rat. It would have come out sooner or later, considering that they were guessing all animals from aadvark to babirusa to tyrannosaurus rex.

Now, now. What's the point of this entry?

Nope. No point. Just talking about the rodent. And, also making full use of Huda's naptime. Ooops. I'm supposed to iron some clothes.

Cows

I hate trying to come up with titles for blog entries so from now on, all titles will be completely irrelevant. Today's title is inspired by polite cows that may help in keeping the global temperature in check,

Anyway. My father (of all people) received a pair of tickets to Harry Potter's movie premiere which is happening this evening. I thought of making full use of the tickets with my sister. We have it all planned out:

5.30pm - Leave house

6.30pm - Reach there in time for the light refreshments

7.15pm - A quick trip to Crowne Plaza for Maghrib

7.30pm - Movie starts

9.30pm - Rush back home

10.30pm - Home

But. I can't bear to leave Huda for 5 hours and (me) missing her bedtime, even though The Husband does not mind being the sole caregiver for the night. The main problem is, she only drinks milk straight from the source and refuses the bottle. And, I can't bear the thought of her wailing for her milk from about 9pm onwards. What am I to do? Then again, it may not be too bad an idea as it may result in a successful attempt at reintroducing the bottle to Huda. (Right.) Sigh. What am I to do?

On another note. Third driving lesson earlier and these are points to remember for the next lesson:

1. Don't panic. Everyone's scared of an L-plate and will give the L-plated car a wide berth.

2. The scenery is for passengers. My eyes are supposed to be on

  a) the road ahead

  b) the mirrors

  c) the blind spots

3. Don't wear sandals with thick soles.

4. Keep within my lane when turning!

 

The instructor has been very kind so far and very patient. But I need to break out of this need to hear him telling me before stepping on the clutch or brake or accelerator or for him to hold the steering wheel steady while I change gear. Am I dangerous or what? If I ever get my license, I'll definitely take a course on how to drive an auto car and hopefully, I'll be good enough for the roads.

 

Oh. And, my maximum speed so far is 40km/h. If I were to drive at this speed to my grandmother's place in Malacca, goodness knows when I'll ever reach her place! Top that off with my frequent engine stalling... I think, I'll need a good 6-hour lead time before the rest of the convoy sets off.

 

But that's wishful thinking. Let's see if I can get from my place to my mom's within half an hour. (My mother's place is a $2.50 taxi ride away.)

Can pass or not?

Aiyaaaaahhh..

My final theory test is this Wednesday, 27 June and I've barely started studying. I think I'm going to fail lah.

I should have signed up for driving classes the moment I passed my Basic Theory Test but you know me lah - lazy like anything. So, I kept on postponing it. When I realised I absolutely must arrange for an instructor some two weeks ago, Huda had her fever and I felt really bad leaving her at my mom's while I go for a spin (if you can call it that).

Now, I'm just days away from my test and I have no idea how to do a half clutch - oh goodness! - don't get started on how brilliant I am, wanting to learn how to drive a manual instead of an automatic car when such options are available these days.

Die die die!!!

I'll go for the test, nevertheless and between now and Wednesday, if I just tie the book to my head, perhaps, some useful info will filter down through my thick skull.

Crying Child

Somewhere in my neighbourhood, there's a baby who has been crying for at least one hour.

 

Poor kid.

 

And poor parents.

 

(Huda used to do such things too. Only that she'd choose a really good time like 3 am in the morning. It's now only about 11 at night. So, this crying child is still doing okay.)

Developmental Milestones

Let me put up all these bits of info which I may forget soon.

 

Flip Over - I can't recall when exactly she could do this but it was about a week after 5.5 months - which is equivalent to 4 months, corrected age. Her physiotherapist showed us how to make her flip over and after a few days of practising, she could do it all by herself!

 

Crawl - It should be about 7 months (real age) as it was during Hari Raya and my sister-in-law commented that she could crawl.

 

Pull to Stand - She could pull herself to a standing position at 8 months.

 

Walk - This only happened recently - at 14 months.

Pedia Sure?

Today we went to see Huda's neonatologist.

Not surprisingly, Huda is still below the 3rd centile for both height and weight although she's advanced in all other areas. We are grateful for that. Alhamdulillah.

The doctor recommended Pediasure. For the uninitiated, Pediasure is a formula targeted at fussy eaters. Just to recap, Huda is a *very* fussy eater.

The Husband and I decided to introduce it slowly to Huda. Breastfeeding will still go on and the ultimate goal will be to have Huda drink 225ml of Pediasure once a day. Today's target is only 50ml of Pediasure.

We failed.

Huda liked playing with the bottle. She liked sucking from the teat but she absolutely refused to tilt the bottle to ensure that the milk is drunk. We even tried to stuff the bottle in her mouth while she was sleeping but she shook her head this way and that and the vanilla-flavoured formula ended up on the mattress. Oooh... Won't the ants be happy.

So we are revising our target. 25ml daily for the entire week and we'll see how it goes from there. We know it can be done. We just have to be persistent and start distributing ear plugs to all our neighbours within a 2-kilometre radius.

(Kailing, you may want to collect the ear plugs soon. Our feeding session is around 9pm daily.)

 

Sawadee Kap

We kena ketuk-ed by this tuk tuk driver. 100 Baht for a very short distance. But, I suppose it was for the experience of a lifetime.

We couldn't say this to all those who said this to us. Somehow, we felt that our tone was just so wrong. We only dared to go 'Sawadee kap' on the last day when we thought we got it right.

So we went to Bangkok last week on a whim. The Husband's leave was confirmed and off we went. I was rather apprehensive at first and ensured that we were well-insured before the trip. There was the obvious traffic jams along which came heavy pollution and of course, the political instability and the bomb that went off just days before our trip.

But, all the worrying was unnecessary. We enjoyed ourselves and we'll definitely be there again (when our Automatic Shopping Stopper is all grown up, perhaps).

Our Auto Shopping Stopper kicked into action from Day 2 onwards.

The first day we were there, we went to Mah Boon Krong and our little darling slept peacefully in her stroller after we've had our lunch. We went from floor to floor but did not do much damage to our bank balance (yet).

The next day, we went to Bobei Tower - a place which reminded me a bit of Pasir Panjang Wholesale Market (but they sell clothes, not vegetables). Kids clothes are plentiful! But my auto shopping stopper started to whine and get uncomfortable so we had to go back to the hotel.

That night, we went to Suan Lum night bazar and my, oh my(!!), there are a million pretty, pretty stuff there! I figured that if we ever move house, I'll chuck everything out and get everything for the new house from Suan Lum. Unfortunately, as usual, our auto shopping stopper started to fret and we headed back to our hotel.

The next day, we went to Chatuchak Weekend Market. We started off really early as everyone told us that Huda may not be able to withstand the heat. But, it wasn't really hot. The sun was hidden behind the clouds the whole morning and Huda didn't even whine one bit. It was her parents who had to put up the white flag and surrender. Our legs were killing us (thank you, lack-of-exercise).

In the afternoon, we trawled the area around Pratunam and we saw the cutest of twins. There were these tiny little angmoh twins, who look no more than 4 months. They had the chubbiest of cheeks and they were the centre of attention. I found myself squealing when I saw them. I wish I had taken picures because they actually looked like dolls. But, being a shameless parent, I say that the only one who can surpass them in cuteness is my litle doll. Yes, she may stop us from shopping but she's the most adorablest of all babies - especially when she's sleeping - like now.

Coming back to our hedonistic shopping trip, we went to MBK again in the evening. Do I need to say why we went back? To shop til we drop.

The next morning, we went back to Chatuchak. Heh heh.

And then, it was time to go.

Huda refused to sit during take-off and landing. While she was well-behaved during our flight to and from Lombok a few months back, she refused to sit without a fierce struggle this time round. This made me very grateful that we have decided to postpone our trip to that faraway place which would otherwise take place this June. Whew!

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.

---

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.

First Month Review

Not quite first month. I started this entry at the end of January and look which month we are in now. If I'm diligent enough, I'm sure I'll finish this before the year is up.

So far, I think, housewife-ship agrees with me. If only my immune system shares my view. I've been having all sorts of minor ailments these past few weeks. I don't know whether it's simply about adjusting to the new lifestyle. Hee Yee once told me that when a person's stress level goes down, so does the immunity level. Life has been too relaxed, perhaps?

Not in the first four weeks. The first four weeks of being a stay-at-home-mother (SAHM) was a huge shock. I was needed all the time by my one and only charge leaving me with absolutely no time for myself. I had no time to prepare my meals. I could only eat when she finally took her naps. Making her take her naps was another big struggle. I could spend up to an hour nursing her, patting her, rocking her gently and she would sleep for all of seven minutes. I had to pee, poo and bathe with an audience. I would make frequent calls to my husband, my mother and my sister and whine endlessly with The Little Girl crying and screaming in the background.

But then, even The Little Girl got tired of testing her mother.

So, by the end of January, things were no longer going at a frenetic pace.

A pattern soon emerged. (Sound effect: a collective sigh)

And I also became a biiiiiit smarter at managing my time.

The Little Girl will wake up around 7 to say goodbye to her father. After the goodbyes (during which time I'll ask The Husband, "Are you taking her to work?"), we'll have breakfast and when she's all messed up, a bath. I'll then read the papers while she tears up the classified ads section. After some playing, it'll soon be time for her morning nap. I'll sleep with her for about half an hour or so then I'll tip-toe out of the room and do some chores - whichever chores that cannot be done when she's awake. After that, for The Little Girl, it will be play, lunch, play, nap, another bath, play, father comes home! Yippppeeeeeee! The Husband will pry her off my legs and I can prepare dinner while he amuses The Little Girl.

...

Yes, it is pretty repetitive and if you are one who gets easily bored and wants instant rewards, this may not be for you. Actually, I was (am?) like that.

This motherhood journey is a long road and it does not come with a street directory. I have an idea where I want the road to lead to and I can only pray that I'm always doing the best I can. Amin.

(I don't know why I get so reflective towards the end of this entry. Must be the effects of my very reflective former workplace.)

Before I Forget

I'm gonna forget that I have this blog soon enough.

I like that this blog is quiet and hidden from view. The Husband doesn't look at this and Dianah must have ben bored stiff the one time she saw this. Oh wait. I told Yati about this but I think she has forgotten. Teeheee!

Just to update my loyal readers (ahem - which totals to about z-e-r-o), I am not pregnant. Irene told me that I should try for a baby now cos any later, Huda will start feeling jealous of Baby #2. But, I think, I'll have to risk that and wait a while more.

Once upon a time, I wanted 4 kids. But, after my first pregnancy, I think, I gotta think some more. If my second pregnancy is anything like the first and if Baby #2 must also spend time at NICU/SCN, I think Baby #2 will be the last baby for me. Very sad. I grew up in a huge family and I've always wanted many children too. But, then again, accidents do happen and since termination is not an option, we'll leave it to Allah.

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On a totally, totally different note, The Husband and I went to HDB last Saturday and in a very simple process, we've paid up our housing loan!! Wooohoooo!! Alhamdulillah! No more loans, baby. Actually, that's the only loan we have. If I do get a car (if I ever get round to getting that licence), I'll pay up in full. I would only want to spend a maximum of, say, $25 000 on the car so I'll need to get something that has been loved before. I dunno. When the time comes, I think, my heart will ache at the thought of spending so much of my reserves, I'll end up tolerating taxi drivers for a while more.

Lazy Bum

This is why I have yet to get that driving licence.

Two whole weeks ago, I was chatting with a friend who, like me, also donated good money to BBDC. Paid for the course but never turned up. So, just as it was my resolution in 1999, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, I also intend to get that licence by end of this year.

As I am the one who's free-er, I have volunteered to go to BBDC (yet again) and sign up for the theory test. (No more signing up for lessons. We'll just go and sit for the test.)

Two weeks have passed and my very wobbly bottoms are still here and have not moved an inch closer to Bukit Batok.

Pray tell, when will I summon the strength to go to Bukit Batok?

Sunday Mayhem

Sunday is chaos and pandemonium at Huda's grandparents'.

Peek-A-Boo

We've been playing peek-a-boo (we call it baaa-chak in Malay) with her and suddenly, last night, she picked up a stray pink jacket and used it to play peek-a-boo with us!

Resolutions

I have many, many resolutions for 2007. As always.

Most of them are recycled from previous years.

But, there's one new thing on the list:

I will avoid trans fat.

That means, the margarine in the fridge will be the last tub of margarine ever to set foot in my house. It'll be butter from now on. Oooh yeah. Rich, creamy butter. Yumm. No more biscuits with creamy filling. That's no big deal. Chocolates? Chocolate chip cookies? Fast food? Gaaah! This is gonna be so tough! This will require a complete lifestyle change!

(Then again, should I not succeed this time round, there's always 2008.)