So Happy

Took Jayden out for a swim after work. He had just gotten up from his nap, and usually he'd have a snack and play with his toys till it's time for dinner, but today I felt unusually energetic and asked he'd like to go for a swim.

It took me three seconds to change him into his bathing suit, and we were off. I got Jona (our helper) to bring Hannah in for a quick dip too, but she kept climbing up my arm every time I lowered her down to the water (I think the water was too cold for her), so I had Jona wrap her up in a towel and take her back.

Jayden played with his water toys in the kiddie pool while I lounged at the jacuzzi. Heh. We did play at the adult pool together for quite a bit, then it was time to head back.

"Want play somemore," Jayden pleaded as I pushed him up the pool ladder.

"We can play somemore in the bathtub," I replied as I picked up his float and toys and wrap him up in his towel at the same time.

"OK!" He dashed his way back into the house, leaving a wet trail behind.

Back in the house, I filled up the bathtub with warm water and stripped him of his bathing suit. He was already 'showering' his Thomas trains with the water scoops. I started lathering him up with shampoo as he played.

"I'm so happy." He announced, white frothy bubbles dripping from his hair.

"You are?" I wanted to make sure he knew what he was saying.

"Ya," he nodded as he picked up Spencer the silver train. "I'm sooo happy."

"Aww, I'm glad you're happy. Mommy is happy too."

And I was. Happy that I decided to do something fun with him, rather than leave him to his toys and TV. Happy to be reminded that it took so little to make my child happy. He didn't need more toys, or new videos on the tablet, or more chocolates. All he needed was a patient mommy who was willing to play with him.

"So do you want to go to the swimming pool tomorrow? Or the playground?"

"Mmm.. playgwound!"

Rainbow Noodles

He was having macaroni with miso soup for lunch.

"Ainboh oodel." He muttered in between bites.

"Eh? What is it?"

"Ain Boh Oo Del." He pointed to the macaroni.

"This is ma-ca-ro-ni. You like this noodle, ya?"

"Noo. Rainbow. See." He held a piece of macaroni close to my face.

"Ooohh. It does look like a rainbow eh?? Rainbow noodles?"

"Ya. Rainbow noodles." He gave me a wide smile, the way he always does when I figured out what he was trying to say.

I ruffled the top of his head. Rainbow noodles does sound a lot more fun than macaroni. :D:D

I Buy Coconuts

Jayden got a purple angpow from our Deepavali visit at a friend's house, and he was meticulously prying open the flossy paper as we settled down in the car.

"I got money!" He announced with much pride, lifting up a five-ringgit note with his free hand.

"Oh wow. Cool! So you can buy things already." I played along.

"Ya. I want buy coconut."

"Coconut??" To be fair, this request was not totally out of the blue. We were talking about getting a coconut drink as we passed by a few coconut stalls on the way to our friend's house.

"Ya ya. I got money. We go. OK?" He nodded his head suggestively.

"OK. We have to find the coconut shop though. Now raining wor..." I gestured sadly out the window, an exaggerated pout on my face.

"Ohh.. Raining... Rain rain, go away!" He made a shooing gesture at the pesky raindrops.

"When the rain stops, we can look for the coconuts, OK?" I suggested.

"Ya ya. I got money. Rain stop. We go. Uh huh."

"So how many coconuts do you wanna buy?"

"Uhhh.. one, two, three... four! Ya, four." To my amusement, he actually pointed at each of us in the car as he counted. And he tried to make the four symbol with his chubby fingers. Too cute I cannot.

"Four ar? You got enough money??"

"Ya ya. I got money." He waved his money at me. Point taken.

"OK but we still need to find the coconut shop ya? If it's raining, there won't be any coconuts," I informed him to avoid any unnecessary disappointment.

"Oohh... Rain, go away!"

Miraculously, the rain did stop. We found a coconut stall, and he called out to his dad, "Papa! Nah. Money. Go buy." I had to laugh out loud.

The father played along. "OK. How many you want?" He unfastened his seat belt and reached over to take the money.

"No no! Want go down also." Jayden decided he was going to buy the coconuts himself, it seemed.

So they went, while I waited in the car with Hannah.

Jayden came back with two packets of coconut juice. "Nah. Mommy. I buy."

"Aww thanks for sharing, Jayden. We go back and drink OK?"

"Uh huh. I buy."

Just Shopping for Little Man Stuff

A Boat Ride with My Little Man

The last time I went to Clarke Quay, I was carried out of a busy night club by two besties, piss drunk from a long night of partying with the amazing girlfriends who had organized the best bachelorette weekend for me.

Now I am back here, chasing after my firstborn who was running and counting aloud the number of boats sailing down the river.

I was about to catch up with him when he stopped and said, 'Want go boat.' He pointed at the nearest boat docked at the side.

I told him no, we had to leave soon for a dinner appointment with friends. He was not having it.

'Want go BOAT!!' He dodged away as I reached out for his arm.

Thankfully, our adult plans changed and I managed to prevent a complete toddler meltdown in the middle of the crowded street.

The boat tickets were expensive, and no one else wanted to go on a boat cruise, so it was just Jayden and I.

It was a nice, peaceful date with my little man. The weather was breezy and comfortable,  and he was so well-behaved the entire time. He sat on my lap so that he could look out the window, and we talked about everything and anything we saw as the boat cruised lazily past the busy city of Singapore. I could almost see his young mind taking everything in, from the Merlion (water funtan!) to the many bridges we passed under. Everything was new and interesting to him. We even shared a banana together, like a proper date LOL.

Soon we returned to the dock where we started. We held hands as we jumped off the boat, and he rushed off to tell his papa everything he saw from the boat.

I love it when he makes it so easy to love him.

When One is Sleepy But The Night Ain't Over Yet

The room was dark, illuminated only by the subtle blue light from the purring air purifier. The day is winding down to an end...

Not for Hannah. After nursing for almost an hour (with her eyes closed), she jerked her head away from my boob and stared at me. I quickly averted my eyes and turned away from her. Please sleep please sleep please sleep, I chanted inside my head.

"AaaaHHhhhh..." Hannah's baby voice pierced through the sleepy silence. "AaaahhHHhhh..." She was not shouting or shrieking; it was like she just wanted to her own voice in the loudest volume possible AND find out how long she can hold her breath. Maybe if I ignore her, she will drift off to sleep, I hoped. So I scooted away from her and covered my ears with my pillow.

"AHHHHHhHHHHHHhh..." I could feel her chubby feet shuffling and banging on the mattress.

To the uninitiated, it might sound non-threatening, but I knew better - leave this unattended for too long and she will burst into tears.

I tried to pat her, sing to her, cuddle with her. She flailed her arms and feet, restless, like she knew she was having trouble falling asleep. "AaaaaaHHhhhhh...." It was getting louder, angrier.

I turned over to check if the hubs and Jayden were disturbed by the loudness. Nope. Both were sleeping soundly.

I snapped. Why am I the only one left awake to suffer this?! So I did what every mature, self-sacrificing, wise mother would do - I carried Hannah to the hubs' single mattress and plopped her right next to the sleeping <s>baboon</s> man.

It was a small bed, so she was pretty squashed between her father's back and a bolster to shield her from the wall. She started kicking her father's back. I felt a surge of sadistic pleasure. Now maybe you will understand how it feels to have a restless baby right next to you, I thought maliciously.

He did not budge. Not one inch. I waited for three minutes and nothing. He was knocked out cold.

Furthermore, to my horror, Hannah was winding down, her movements getting slower, her eyes fluttering to a close. WTH?? This was way too unfair to go unnoticed.

So I poked the hubs. Hard. NOTHING. OK this is BS. Nobody sleeps THAT well. I pushed him awake.

Finally, he turned around, his eyes barely opened. "Mei Mei is right next to you," I informed formally. "Don't crush her." He nodded lazily and went back to hugging his pillow.

He's gonna crush her, I thought angrily to myself as I climbed back into my bed. I don't care I don't care I don't care close your eyes and SLEEP, I ordered my brain.

Ten minutes later, I got up and carried Hannah gently back to my bed. She rubbed her face against her blankie and settled back to sleep peacefully.

It was close to midnight now. The air purifier was still humming, accompanied by the soft snoring from the man whom I really do love despite his infuriating ability to fall asleep before I could even shut my eyes.

I checked on both children one more time, pulling Jayden's blanket over his exposed tummy and made sure Hannah had a pillow to rest her feet just the way she liked it.

And then I sleep.

My Best Friend

"This is Cindy, my best friend."

It was so casually spoken, like stating a well-known fact. Even though I know we have always regarded each other as best friends, I was surprised at how openly she said it in front of others.

She is one of my oldest friends, and definitely one I always consider as a Bestie even though we don't get to hang out as much anymore.

Come to think of it, I don't think we have stayed in the same town since we finished secondary school together. Somehow the friendship continued. We have college friends, colleagues, church friends... but it never diminished our importance to each other.

Until I botched her bachelorette party, I always felt like I have done irreparable damage to our Bestie relationship after that. It always fills me with helpless guilt when I remember how I did not give her the best bachelorette that she so deserves. How maybe I should have opted out if I was too bogged down by blocked ducts and new mommy duties. I thought I could do both best girlfriend and competent first-time mommy at the same time, but I couldn't have been more wrong.

Nevertheless, Su, being the gracious person that she always is, seemed to have moved on from it so completely that sometimes I wonder if it had all been inside my head. I have thought about texting her or talking to her about it, to clear things up, but it just felt too little too late.

Maybe she just introduced me that way out of habit. We did always call each other that since we were twelve years old. She probably did not even think twice about it.

But it meant the world to me. She will always be my best friend. And I hope we can always regard each other this way, like how little kids talk about their best friends, so happily and proudly.

Gosh I sound crazy.

Not Hot Adi

We were walking back to our car after dinner, holding hands as we crossed the road.

"Not hot adi," He suddenly declared.

"Not hot?"

"Yaa... not hot adi," He pointed to the dark night sky.

"Oooh ya, it's at night already, so not hot anymore isit?"

"Yaaa.." He nodded in agreement, his face thoughtful. It was like he was growing up right before my eyes.

I smiled to myself, realizing how much he must be observing and listening all the time. At this age (3), he can be such a handful sometimes, but I genuinely love the conversations we have; his half-gibberish, half-manglish is such a source of laughter for us nowadays.

People around us tend to comment that "only the mommy can understand him", which is fine with me now. The satisfied grin after I repeat after him, the enthusiastic nods when I got him what he wanted (but could not quite pronounce/express yet) - it makes me feel exclusive. And I want to treasure this bond for as long as I can.

Strive to Emphatize

"My trakkor... choo-choo train..." Jayden muttered in his car seat as he looked forlornly down on his hands.

"What happened? Teacher took your toys isit?" I figured because there was a notice that informed parents to bring a transportation toy for the children to keep in school for a month, as part of their thematic lessons.

"Yaaa..." He nodded his head. "My one..."

"I know. Teacher told mommy already. Everyone will keep their toys in school for one month. So you can all play and share together. Is that OK?"

"Noo... my one..."

"You wanna bring your tractor and train back home?"

"Ya..." He implored with his sad eyes.

"OK. Mommy will call Teacher later, and ask for you."

"Teacher take... my one..." His eyes were filling up with tears. I was stopped at a traffic light, so I reached over and patted his knee gently.

"It's OK, Jayden. I know you're sad. Teacher will give you back one OK. Everyone's toys are in school."

The tears were spilling down his cheeks now. He grabbed my hand and pleaded softly, "Go back. Go back school take..." This was not whining; I could see the distress in his eyes, his mind not yet comprehending the concept of leaving his toys for others.

"Aw Jayden. Don't worry. Mommy will call Ms Mary Anne later OK." I started driving again.

"Ms Esha."

"Oh it was Ms Esha who took the toys ya?"

"Yaa..." He replied.

He wouldn't get out of the car when we reached home, and insisted that we go back to school. So I decided to call the teacher and spoke with her while he listened. He seemed to calm down, knowing that I had made sure that the toys were still with his teacher, and will be returned to him soon.

It seemed like such a small thing, but it made me realize how important my role as a mother is. Jayden was troubled by something he couldn't quite verbalize yet, and it took patience and a listening ear to understand what he needed at the moment. I'm so glad that I didn't choose to brush his feelings off (because I know I will be loaded with mommy guilt after that 100 percent). I hope that I will always remember to observe and listen to my children with more patience, with a positive desire to understand and emphatize, and never undermine their feelings and thoughts.

It reminded me of the time I was scolded by my primary school teacher. She'd been unkind in her words (she called me a 'da fan shu', which literally translates into a big potato), and I was particularly troubled because I felt wronged. I let out all my frustrations the moment I climbed into my mother's car, telling her how unfair everything was. She listened, and reacted in the way that just made my day a whole lot better. "What! She called you a big potato! Well then she's a GIANT potato!" It was silly and exaggerated, but to an eight-year-old it felt so good to be understood, to have her feelings validated, and by the most important person in her life no less.

For my children, I want to be like that all the time.

Wallow

My first pregnancy was good. I had a neat little bump, I could still fit into most of my pants till my last trimester. Giving birth was quick, the pain bearable. Post-natal depression did bite me in the arse for a while, but things got better after I got used to the body aches, the headaches from lack of sleep, the interrupted sleep night after night.

Frankly, what got me through it was realizing that I was losing weight. Somehow, no matter what I ate, the weight was coming off. My clothes got looser, thin people clothes like chiffon skirts look good on me, for once.

Waking up three times a night? At least I was getting thinner. Having daily shoulder pains from breastfeeding? At least I look good in clothes I like.

My second pregnancy has been a huge blow. Health-wise, I was good. But I gained weight faster, ate more, and just felt like a hippo the entire time. Giving birth was still reasonably quick, but the pain was more intense (which I blame the OGBYN, but that's another post altogether). I was better equipped during recovery, resting on the knowledge that all the suckiness do eventually go away. But the bleeding nipples did bring me down for a couple of weeks. That, and the fact that I barely lost any weight since giving birth.

Six months in, and I still can't fit into my normal clothes. Not even my glorious thin clothes, just the ones I used to wear before I got married even. I know it's so terrible to put one's worth based on one's looks, but whatever. I might as well admit it myself. I am upset about how I look. There are tons of alternative media nowadays encouraging women of all shapes and sizes to love themselves, mostly with pictures of women of all shapes and sizes in their underwear. It's supposed to be empowering, but I just feel... nothing.

I don't have to see those. I know those. The stretch marks, the lumpy hips, the flabby thighs. They stare back at me whenever I walk past the mirror. They make their presence known when another one of my normal underwear burst at the seams. When I lift up my shirt to nurse my baby, and half of my muffin top is hanging off my too-tight pants.

It is as if Stretch Mark and Flabby Skin is saying, oh did we not get you the first time? We'll give you a double dose just to make for it. Sorry for the delay.
Then do something about it. I can hear it already. Quit whining. Exercise. Eat less. DO SOMETHING.

I know what I have to do (or NOT do). But right now I just want to mourn the demise of my former, thinner, prettier self.

Dear Che

So you have left us again. I used to cry on the way back after sending you off, but this year I have two young children that needed my constant attention, and I no longer have the luxury of glazing over the street lights while reminiscing our short time together.

I always feel like our parting hug leaves so much unsaid. I want to hug you like crazy, thank you for all the encouragement and positive vibes you pass on to me every time you come back. I am struck by how much you have changed every time. Or maybe I just never had the time and distance to admire you this way in the past. You continue to become stronger, more resilient, smarter.

Life has been tough on you for the past few years, but you never stopped your pace - you are still on the path you have chosen. You have admitted that there were some low moments, but you trudge on. When did you become so calm and grown up?

You inspire me to be tougher.  To grow up and be decisive. To stop asking why and start thinking how.

When I complained about having a sty on my eye (again), you gave me practical solutions (use the right facial cleanser, get the correct eyedrops, warm compress) instead of allowing me to indulge in my self-pity. Amazingly, this was the first time my eye got well without a huge pus fest or any oral medicine. Your no-nonsense way of dealing with it made a huge impression on me. Why harp on how terrible it was to develop a sty on the eve of a family vacation, or wonder how the sty started, etc?

'It is what it is.'

When our flight to Bali got delayed and we were stuck at the departure lounge for eight hours, you took out your Surface Pro and got comfortable. You even tried to entertain a toddler whose mission was to run amok with no shoes the entire time. While my immediate reaction was to feel bitter and upset about the inconvenience of it all, you shrugged and said,

'It is what it is.'

You don't always say the easiest things to hear, but you do say the right things.

I wish that our day-long shopping trips could be a monthly thing instead of a haphazard annual one. I wish we could enjoy our favorite foods together at a leisurely pace instead of the heartburn-inducing stuff-every-childhood-food-memory-into-two-weeks affair that happens every year.

One of my favorite memories this time around was talking with you on the bed, with Baby Hannah eavesdropping between us. She must have enjoyed the girl talk too, seeing how she never interrupted and dutifully fell asleep only after the lights were turned off and you left the room quietly.

Sometimes I feel like crying when I think about how you are doing halfway across the globe. God has been so kind to me by giving me such an awesome sister; I pray that He will send you an angel like how you are to me.

I hope you always have someone there to inspire you, encourage you, comfort you whenever you need, like how you have always done for me my entire life.

Swipe It Baby

Finally figured out a way to play the Thomas and Friends movies I downloaded on our big screen TV. Of course, Jayden shrieked with joy at the sight of his favorite steam engine charging at him from the huge screen.

Suddenly, he went closer to the screen, and started swiping it with his index finger.

My 2.5 year old son thought our living room TV is a touchscreen one. He was not even trying to be funny. He really wanted to swipe that thing, probably to a different video or something.

Gosh this is scary.

EXACTLY

Whenever Andrea posts a picture of Jayden or Hannah on Facebook, it is almost a given that someone will comment that the baby looks EXACTLY like Andrea. Or if Andrea's mom is tagged, his mom's friends will say how the baby looks EXACTLY like Andrea's mom.

Some will even argue after Andrea's humble replies like 'nola, got look like Cindy also.' They are so sure about what they see that they are willing to ARGUE over this.

Which is fine. IF THE BABY CAME OUT OF THEIR VAGINAS.

Maybe I am being stupid. Who care what people say, right? But I'm irked. Boy am I irked.

When Jayden was born, a lot of people commented on how much he looked like his dad. I felt a bit miffed, but let it slide coz it's kinda cute to have your son look like your husband right?

Then Hannah came along, and the same comments ensued - accordingly to 99% of the people who have seen her, she looks EXACTLY like her brother or her father. That does not sound like much of a compliment to a baby GIRL. Plus, she's MY girl. She supposed to look like ME.

And then I feel bad. Why do I feel so affected by this? Is it because I am afraid I might love them less if they do not look like me? No way am I gonna let other people change the way I love my children.

There has always been a part of me who cares a lot about what others think. But now that I am a mother, I realize that it is high time to toughen up and shut the naysayers. Not just for myself, but for my kids also. If words can hurt me so easily, how am I ever gonna be strong enough for the li'l chubbies?

Scared Out of Our Wits

We had the biggest scare of our lives last night. We had just reached our home from dinner with the in-laws. Andrea had taken Jayden out of the car seat, and he started walking along the parking lot lines, as usual. I got out of the car with Hannah in my arms, and Andrea was grabbing the bags from the back seat.

We heard the sound of cars turning into the parking lot, and simultaneously we looked up and called out to Jayden, warning him to stop walking and be aware of moving cars.

But he was nowhere in sight.

The panic that gripped my racing heart was reflected on Andrea's face - blood drained from his face. Where was Jayden? There were so many cars parked inside, and he was too small to find.

I ran, baby in tow. Towards where I assumed he would be, headed to the elevator. Which was right where the cars would pass by. A million thoughts flashed through my mind; none of them helped put me at ease.

Andrea started yelling Jayden's name louder. It is so scary to know your child could be in danger and yet you don't know how to prevent it.

Suddenly a tiny figure ran out from the narrow gap between the two cars parked next to ours, his face pale with unknown terror, sobbing uncontrollably. Jayden.

I ran and knelt down next to him, shushing him gently as I stroked his head. He must have been terrified by the way we yelled out his name - he's sensitive like that. With Hannah still lying comfortably in my arms, oblivious to everything, I hugged her brother tightly. I had never been happier to see his crying face.

Andrea regained his composure, and went to strict parent mode. Using this as a learning experience, he talked about being careful of moving vehicles, staying close to the parents, etc.

I should have kept my eye on him no matter what. He has a tendency to walk out on his own the moment he leaves the car seat, and I should have known better. Even though it was night time, and our condominium parking lot gets very little traffic, I should have been more alert.

After that, we joked about how Jayden looked so bewildered and started crying probably because he could sense the fear in our voices, which rattled him even more even though he did not know what was going on. Oh Jayden. My first chubbz.

Thank God for His protection. Another reminder that our children are blessings from God, and we need to cherish them and grow them up in partnership with Our Heavenly Father.

Thinking about it still sends chills up my spine.

Legg Airr

JC was sitting on the carpet next to me, running his fingers over my leg. Which I hadn't shave for two weeks at least. Suddenly his hand stopped.

"Whaddis???" He looked at me, and back at where his hand stopped on my leg.

"Mommy's leg hair," I said, trying to stifle a laugh.

"Oooorhh. Legg Airr." And he continued rubbing my leg.

He is not repulsed by stubby leg hair. This boy's a keeper. LOL.

Bah

I'm 37 weeks pregnant now. Woke up all right coz I got to snuggle with Jayden for a little while. Then, quite inexplicably, I just felt like this was the worst day ever. I know it was crazy to feel this way, coz nothing had changed from yesterday besides the fact that I had probably gained another KG by breathing.

Stupid pregnancy hormones. Thankfully, I have been pretty stable emotionally after the fifth month or so, so this comes as an unwelcome surprise. I don't know how to explain it, nor do I want to. I know I can't always blame the hormones, but what else could it be? I got the opportunity to work from home and be closer to Jayden, be able to lie down when my bum hurts too much to sit for long, be able to eat home-cooked meals and snack on tons of fruits and nuts when I want to.

I know I am blessed. And yet this dark piece of cloud hanging over my head is just. not. leaving.