Father's Day

Recently I visited a friend who just gave birth to a baby girl. She looked great and I was happy for her, but I was surprised that her husband didn't look so great. He looked like he hasn't slept for days and he had a bad back.

I had this reflex thought, wondering why he was in such a bad shape when he wasn't the one who was... pregnant? And he wasn't the one doing the pushing and enduring the horrendous, out-of-this-world pain during labour (my friend didn't use the epidural). And of course, he wasn't the one waking up every two damn hours in the middle of the night, NIGHT AFTER NIGHT breastfeeding a newborn.

Shame on me, mother of two, for having such thoughts.

Many fathers are actually the unsung heroes in a family. No family can function effectively running on just the efforts by mothers. Amazing as mothers can be, we only have a pair of hands. As humans, mothers get tired, mothers fall ill sometimes, mothers need time off... Oh, and mothers sometimes get hungry in the middle of the night. What happens during times like these? It's papa to the rescue. I know of fathers who do laundry, cook kiddy meals, mop the floor, wash dishes, run errands, bottle feed babies, buy suppers, change diapers and act as chauffeurs on demand. Fathers also provide calm and reassurance when the mums get overwhelmed. Fathers are awesome playmates for the kids. They can throw babies high up into the air without harming them, tickle kids to death but then have the kids end up begging for more, and come up with great ideas for weekends. Fathers do catch vomit from sick kids, get up in the middle of the night for paracetamol feedings, and clean up soiled sheets too.

This father's day, I'm glad to have an awesome partner. And he's the reason why I can survive as a good-enough-parent.

My fifth anniversary as a SAHM - Once upon a time

Once upon a time
I held a newborn in my arms
I went home, dreaming of a charming, smiling baby
Only to realise that
Newborns scream, and do not like to sleep
So I was up
Night after night, rocking and singing to a newborn
Once upon a time

Once upon a time
I tucked into my food with glee
To finish it peacefully in one sitting
Only to realise that
Babies need to be entertained even while you were eating
So I played peek-a-boo with my baby
Meal after meal, sometimes almost chocking
Once upon a time

Once upon a time
I wanted to bring my kids for a morning of fun
So I brought them out
Only to realise that
Toddlers throw fits in public
There I was the harried mother
Coaxing my kids, sometimes to no avail
Once upon a time

Once upon a time
I hugged two chubby, giggling children in my arms
We played trains, read books, tickled each other to bits
And I hoped that time would sit still
Only to realise that
Moments like this slip by faster than I could catch them
Once upon a time

Once upon a time
I questioned my decision
Could I have looked more glamourous, my bank account, more robust?
Then I looked at my two children
Running towards me, arms outstretched
calling, "MAAAMAAAA!!!!"

And so I realised
Perhaps I made the right decision after all
Once upon a time

Goodbye, 2014

We spent the last day of 2014 with the extended family. It was a special time for us all because little dude and the baby welcomed a new cousin who just turned a month-old. And little dude, himself, will be attending K1 in a day's time.

2014 was, as expected, a gruelling year. I took little dude out of school because he fell ill just too often at nursery, and the baby was getting some nasty infections from him. So I had two kids at home, day after day, juggling meals, toilet requests, playtime, outings, reading time, diaper emergencies, meals, clean ups, baths, nights of disrupted sleep, and the odds and ends...

But I made it.

And I am thankful for family and friends who came when I needed them. People who lent a hand here, a listening ear there. People who carried me along when I was too tired to go on. It does take a village to raise a child.

We're looking forward to a smashing 2015!

When they're not screaming at each other, they're actually pretty nice.

Creepy nursery rhymes

I've been reading nursery rhymes on and off for a total of four years now (little dude is four). And some of the nursery rhymes I've come across are just plain strange.

Rock-a-bye baby, on the treetop

When the wind blows, the cradle will rock,

When the bough breaks the cradle will fall,

And down will come baby, cradle and all

Why would anyone sing this to a baby?

And:

Three blind mice, three blind mice

See how they run, see how they run

They all run after the farmer's wife

Who cut off their tails with a carving knife

Did you ever see such a sight in your life?

As three blind mice...

While I was writing about this I decided to google for "creepy nursery rhymes". The information that came up was quite interesting. Go try. But take it with a pinch of salt. 

Oh oh oh... and as my kids listen to their songs I keep hearing this:

My body lies over the ocean

My body lies over the sea

My body lies over the ocean

Oh bring back my body to me...

Of course I know the right lyrics, but this is what I hear. All... the... time... 

Occupational hazard yeah? 

Making kids happy

I brought the kids out to the playground today. We go to the playgrounds as often as we can, because the kids love to run free and there are endless things that captivate them outdoors. A worm, butterflies, a snail, or that insignificant tree branch lying at the side of the road - all the seemingly mundane things to me suddenly fills with magic through the eyes of my children.

It was tree branches today. Long, with side branches and leaves at the tail-end, little dude announced that it was a broom and decided to clean up the walkway. The baby joined him. We spent more than half an hour under a shady area, the kids just wooshing and swishing the branches on the floor and giggling. People passed by, sometimes we get weird looks (goodness knows why) but the kids were happy and oblivious to what else was going around.

A couple of butterflies decided to fly a little closer to the children. This got them ooh-ing and ahh-ing and gushing "Maaa Maaa!!! Loook! butterflies!" Then I saw the baby dance and tilt her head from side to side while looking at the butterflies. It's comforting to know that the children derive happiness by being in touch with nature.

They got quite grubby after an hour, so I brought them home for a bath followed by lunch and nap. Right after his nap, little dude exclaimed, "Ma ma! I had such a good day today!".

Me too. In fact, I think I'm having a fantastic day.

This is the best time

The baby was comfortably seated in her high-chair at breakfast. She was feeding herself, enjoying little pieces of bread that I've cut out for her, along with pieces of soft fruit. Sunlight was already streaming steadily into our home, but the the baby's face radiated it's own glow of happiness and contentment that seemed to light up the living room in a way that the sun couldn't.

As bits of bread and fruit dropped onto the floor, and the table was smeared with food, my mother commented: "You must be looking forward to the day that she eats without all this mess!"

"No," I replied. "This is the best time."

I don't like mess. When my older boy started learning how to feed himself, I was taken aback at how frequently I had to clean up, and the extent of the mess. Everyday, several times a day, I dealt with bread crumbs, rice, fruit and other types of food on the floor, smeared on the table, on the face, inside shirts... I tried to minimise cleaning up by feeding him as much as I could, but he seemed to enjoy eating independently so much that I gave in - and gave up on being too bothered by the mess. Gradually, I learnt to appreciate having my children eating happily beside me and enjoying my company with their food. Mess can be cleaned. Moments must be captured.

"I dan! I dan!" (I'm done) The baby cried, satisfied with her breakfast. I smiled and lifted the cubby toddler out of her high-chair. I clean her mouth, we sing a song while washing hands. Then, off she toddles - "piak", "piak", "piak" goes her footsteps around the house. Soon, gurgles and laughter follow as both kids start to play.

Yes. This is the best time. 

Budding vocabulary

Our children do many things that melt our hearts. Remember the times when they were learning how to talk? Baby talk is so adorable. The baby (who's 14 months old now) has been trying to express herself and these are some of the things she says often, in order of frequency:

Baby talk                     Translation
I dan! I dan!                 I'm done
I ding! I ding!               I drink
Bear                            Bread
Wah-wer                      Flower
Ya                               Yes
Nah                              No
Ngh-Ngh                      I just pooed in my diaper
Ba-ba                           Bye-bye
Juice                            Shoes
Jeeze                           Cheese

And this is her favourite word when she's barricaded outside the kitchen:

OOOHH-PAAAN!!!!!!!!!!

Meaning, open the gate!

Shady business

Image credit

It was the first day of the June holidays and I was having an awesome time at a friend's house, with her three awesome kids. Little dude and the baby were also enjoying the company.

As the kids were entertaining themselves with the odds and ends around the house, my friend gave me a 'look'. Bewildered, I raised one eyebrow. She tilted her head ever so slightly to one side. We threaded sneakily carefully to a remote corner of her flat. As she started to lean over to whisper something to me, little dude came over to ask a question. My friend recovered swiftly to give little dude her attention. At the same time, without batting an eyelid, she surreptitiously put a small rectangular shaped item into my palm. I closed my palm swiftly and cheerfully encouraged little dude to go back to his friends. My friend and I exchanged nods.

I slipped the rectangular item into my pocket and headed into the kitchen alone. With one last glance to make sure that the kids were not looking, I popped the chocolate into my mouth.

You know she's a BFF when she gives you chocolate instead of giving it to her kids.

A baby's contentment

Baby Y at 3 months old
Lovely hat with flower courtesy of Aunt Meixuan

I love milk times with Baby Y. When babies drink milk, you hold the world's most contented person in your arms. 

Now going 8 months old, Baby Y dramatically falls into my arms and opens her little mouth in cheerful anticipation. Then I see the most contented face in the world as she drinks, her little arm and hand gently playing with my shirt. 

Often, while she drinks, she gazes at me, looking so comfortable. The radio would be playing, little dude could be singing, and a balloon could be floating about above her. But she doesn't care. It was milk time. She gazes at me. Mama to cuddle, warm milk to drink. Nothing else matters in the world. Then, she would put an appreciative little hand on my cheek. It was the sweetest thank-you in the world.

10 reasons why I never get to the phone on time

I've been getting a lot of missed calls lately. In fact, I think I've not managed to pick up a single call this week. It's always because of one of the following:

1. I'm helping the tot with poop or pee.

2. I'm feeding the tot / the baby.

3. I'm washing something: the tot / the baby / the laundry / the dishes...

4. I'm busy comforting someone: the tot / the baby (sometimes they take turns, sometimes they wail together).

5. I'm cooking.

6. I'm helping the tot with poop or pee again.

7. I'm cleaning something: spilled milk / food on the floor / poop stained clothing...

8. I'm feeding the tot / baby again.

9. I'm busy wolfing down my food before the next call of duty.

10. I've fallen asleep after doing all of the above.

The dude who laid the golden... poop

I'm toilet training little dude. It's hilarious, tiring and exasperating all at once. I think the hardest part is getting him to do the big thing in his potty. I feel like the owner of "The Goose That Laid the Golden Egg". But it's a tough job getting that egg laid in the right place.

To get him to do the right thing, I let him sit in his potty and play with his "Leaptop". I give him magazines. I give him his favourite toy car. I tell him I'll be giving him ice cream. Stickers. I sing songs. Anything to coax the poop out while he's in his potty.  But... nature takes its own course.

You know, I wait in anticipation every morning for him to finish his breakfast, so that I can shoo him to his potty. Getting poop inside the potty feels something like striking lottery. I go like "YES! GREAT JOB! LET'S GET YOU SOME ICE CREAM!". And I smile from ear to ear.

What's your poop story?

Thou shall not judge

I've been both a victim and a perpetrator of judging. I have expectations on how I should bring up my children and how, generally, children should be treated. It's not something new to say that reality is always different from theory, and how it is sometimes necessary to relax our views on child rearing so that both parents and children can enjoy themselves.

Yet I judge occasionally, despite having gone through the frustration of being judged myself. It's easy to see something during a frame of time and make statements about it. But such statements are often inappropriate, out of context, and unfair as these bystanders (myself included) really have no clue of what they are talking about.

We don't know if the parent has been going through days of sleep deprivation, handling a recalcitrant toddler who refuses to go to bed, and then handling a screaming baby till the wee hours in the morning. We don't know if the parent has postponed visiting the bathroom, or skipped breakfast just to get a pre-schooler to reach school on time. We don't know if the parent's patience has been worn thin after a whole day of managing a toddler's desire to exert his will, resisting diaper changes, lunch, snacks, baths, and insisting that it's more fun to play with food than to eat it. Most of the time when we judge, we're usually present at just that moment in time when parent is most deprived. Instead of empathizing and offering help, we judge.

What about the times when we see a family having fun together? What about the times when we see happy kids running free in parks? Would you go up to the parents and tell them, "hey, you've done an awesome job... look how happy your kids are". Most likely not. But we're more likely to go "TSK, TSK, TSK", LOUDLY when we see tantrums in shopping malls and on the MRT. And then we instinctively think inwardly, "what bad parents", or "this is never gonna happen to me".

Well, we always think we know better. Kara articulated it well, with her article titled "Apologies To The Parents I Judged Four Years Ago".

Being Anal

I am an advocate that babies and technology do not go together. I turn my little nose up at gadgets like smart phones, iPads, and those "techy" toys from big toy brands that parents give to their kids to keep them quiet. I say - Kids under 3 need face time! They need to hear your voice! See your expressions! Those techy stuff hurts their eyes! They need outdoor play! Techy toys encourage obesity! The human interaction is irreplaceable! No techy toys for little dude till later!

Then little girl enters into the picture. Together with endless milk feedings, diaper changes, poop explosions, and sleep deprived nights. From 5 April 2013, I suddenly found myself with:

specimen 'A'

+

specimen 'B'

Specimen A + B + post delivery wounds that took two weeks to heal = brink of insanity. 

It's true that the darkest hour is before dawn. Just as I was about to raise the white flag, my BFF of 23 years gamely shows up with this:

It's called a "Leaptop". It's a toy version of the laptops we use. It can 'receive' and 'send' emails, and 'write' blog entries! Little dude loves it. It keeps him occupied. And I have time to breathe!

Tech toys are great! Tech toys are awesome! I'm gonna buy more tech toys in future!

Well...... parenting is also about keeping yourself alive and sane for the long run, yeah? 

Me, the hero!

I declared myself as the hero of the family today.

Little dude is a lovely toddler. His parents love him. His grandparents love him. I think the rest of the population find him OK. OK means very good for a toddler.

Although little dude is a lovely toddler, there are times when he becomes too much to handle. Even with four adults around to mind him.

Four versus one, and little dude wins hands down.

This usually happens in the evenings, when energy levels are low. During these times, a noisy, persistent, and pesky toddler is hard to manage. When all you want to do is to plonk yourself down on the sofa with a cup of ice-tea and stare at the TV.

So when little dude starts driving people crazy, I volunteer to start his bedtime routine a little earlier. For the sake of everybody's sanity. That's sensible, right?

But then everyone suddenly starts to question me: "You're bringing him in already???".

Like they haven't got enough of him.

Usually, when little dude becomes too much to handle in the evenings, it means he needs some quiet time to wind down. Give him a bath, pop him into a cool room with some storybooks, and he calms down.

And I remove a pesky toddler off everybody's hands.

I'm a hero! Not a baddie who kidnaps toddlers. And little dude usually falls asleep a little earlier during such occasions. A lovely toddler will only get on everyone's nerves when he is tired.

And I re-appear out of the bedroom with a smug smile on my face.

Honey! Our angel grew horns!

Not too long ago, little dude was a round-faced, doe-eyed, newly-minted toddler. Earnestness was written all over his face as he worked hard around the clock to master the skills of walking and understanding words that people around him were saying.

His toddling around brought comic relief, and his desire to expand his vocabulary meant that he was some sort of "Mr Nice Guy of the Century". He never said no to chores. He fetches toys, puts his books back into the shelves and couriers items between Papa and Mama. He never said no to diaper changes, baths and mouth-wiping after meals. To show you that he understood what you said, he walks to the bathroom was soon as the word 'bath' was out of your mouth, and gets a fresh diaper out of the drawer as soon as you say 'diaper change'. On top of these, he gave flying kisses on demand.

Then, the little angel that was my baby discovered the concept of independent thinking. And he's not even two yet.

Maybe I should be happy. I mean, I wouldn't want little dude to go through life taking orders without a mind of his own. But then, BUT, what does the little guy know? His poop-filled diaper has been on for a good whole half-an-hour, and he says 'NO' to a diaper change. His perspiration has drenched his shirt and evaporated five times over and he says 'NO' to a bath. His hands, full of germs and bacteria from the playground (any mother's nightmare), and he says 'NO' to washing his hands. Instead, he wants to go read my latest copy of the NUS Alumni magazine.

Reasoning does not work on a toddler with newfound independence. For someone so little, they experience a certain exhilaration from defying an adult. I get that. In him, I sensed both the desire for independence and reassurance. He now knows he can choose otherwise, but he is also anxious of the unknown. Like when he walks in front, he still looks back to see if mama is still there to look out for him. Before he ventures into the storeroom, he still waits for me to confirm that that is his forbidden realm.

And so, I am reminded that the finality of my job as a parent is to let go. But of course, that is still something in the distant horizon. If he makes a wrong decision meanwhile, he can be sure that his mama will forcefully change his diaper, literally, to save his little butt.

What brings back the colour to your world?

2.29am

I'm supposed to be on vacation. After so so so many months of being under "house arrest" due to my "promotion" to motherhood, I finally got a vacation.

And here I am sleepless. Because I keep waking up, finding little dude's legs on my face, on my chest, his head on my stomach, et cetera, et cetera. Tsk, tsk. Toddlers have no sense of space when they sleep.

So I start dreaming of my previous life sans a kid, and for a moment, doubted the sanity of my choice to have one. On the surface, it seems that I have lost much. Freedom to do as I pleased, freedom to read... blah, blah blah...

Then, I decided that I was wrong.

The husband and I brought little dude to the beach today. Honestly, the beach doesn't excite me anymore. I've been there and done that too many times. But strangely, very strangely, it was pure bliss today to see little dude playing with sand, waddling on the beach like a duckling, squealing at sand on his arms and feet. I noticed too, that his delight was infectious and many passer-bys stopped for a brief moment to smile.

And so, I saw the light.

Age would start to wash off the colour from my world, like how being on the beach doesn't excite me anymore. Like how seeing birds flying in the sky doesn't make me stare in wonder anymore. Slowly, bit by bit, age would make me immune to many things which have once brought me joy, laughter, wonder, and awe.

But little dude brings it all back. He was me, 20 months old, squealing and laughing on the beach, infecting others with my joy. He was me, fascinated by the rolling waves on the beach, yelping when it washes up my feet. He was me, standing in front of a brightly coloured peacock larger than himself, oh so excited going "PEE-TOK!! PEE-TOK!!!".

So I decided, no. Life is not better without little dude.

What brings back the colour to your world?

The other side of the coin

Through my previous posts, I might have given the impression that little dude and I are always engaged in battles. No. That's not the whole picture. I write about the battles because they're always funny in retrospect. I mean, a big adult versus a puny little 19-month-old...... the thought of it always amuses me, although it's not really funny when you're actually dealing with it.

But there's the other side of the coin. When your exasperation pays off. When you see him doing things that amazes you. When he shows you that he appreciates. Parents all over the world rely on these to keep them going. To keep them sane.

When little dude brings his own laundry to the basket after a bath; when he calls me in that sweet little voice and stretches out his hand to offer me his last bit of snack; when I suddenly find a little pair of arms hugging me in the middle of the night; when I am woken up by slobbery kisses (I used the word 'I' and 'me', but it's the same for the husband). That's when I silently count one more blessing and file the memory in the brain-bank under 'things that made me smile'.

I'm sure you've had such moments too. So my dear comrades-in-arms, let's soldier on.

Have an early night.