There’s more I can do April 7, 2009

For some reason, the huddy’s most recent post set off a tiny ripple of thoughts in me.

We had grand plans to write the little missy a storybook, complete with whimsical illustrations and poetic testimonies to her cute antics. We never got down to doing it. To my credit, I have sporadic drafts – potential titles, two-liners for three chapters, and maybe five verses. But nowhere near a complete book. I now stew in my own guilt.

The huddy got more going on. He whisked off to the bookstore one day, got his drawing supplies, and sat quietly at the coffee table to draw. I know I’m biased, but I’ve never seen anything sweeter.

That’s how he is. He sings into the iPhone to record songs for our babe – “So she won’t be bored in the train,” he says. He dreams of opening an ice cream parlour – “So little missy will be the most popular girl in school.” He cleans up Latte’s pee tray every morning, just so I don’t need to get dirty. And he stocks the fridge with cakes, ice cream and cookies, because his wifey has a tooth sweeter than sweet.

Mommyhood has been merry, but I know it wouldn’t have been so easy if not for him.

This ethereal life is mine to keep, but I want to do more. To be a better wife, a better mommy, a better daughter, a better sister, a better friend.

Can I?

I must. And I will.

Words on a Wednesday November 5, 2008

• Breastfeeding gives me time. Time for myself, time for my baby, time for reading. After the jaundice scare and endless references to baby care books, I am hungry for fiction. I want to read ferociously. I want to rid my mind of sluggish thoughts. I want to sink into a world that is not mine. I wonder, what books should I zoom into?

• This girl, she’s grown. She’s turning one month. Too fast, too soon, I think. But yet at the same time, I can’t wait to do so many things with her – Bake the first cupcake, take pictures of our chocolate-smeared faces, plant the first seed in a new pot, watch the first bloom, and make Daddy a fabulous cup of morning brew.

• I’ve been caffeine and chocolate free since Raeann entered the world. It’s a personal challenge, this cold turkey thingy. It doesn’t help that I’ve half a bar of rich fudgy chocolate, and a cookie jar of chewy caramel tim tams from lovely Gen, sitting prettily in a corner of the fridge. It’s tough, so tough. I might just succumb.

• My favourite smell now – the muted, babyish, milky smell that lingers after she just has her feed.

It’s raining. And I always feel like writing when the day is drippy. It’s strange.

It’s back to the binging good times October 24, 2008

The mommy is proud to announce her weight loss of 8 kg within two weeks. Sure, it includes the 3.18 kg Raeann now outside of me, but weight loss of any amount has got to be great news.

I looked back on my diet the past two weeks, and I really should be thankful the scales are in my favour. In one hour after lunch (for the record, two pieces of rump steak, pasta shell salad, steamed kai lan), I had a chicken pie, a slice of banana cake, an apple, one litre of plain water and a bowl of fish soup. And I still felt peckish.

Has breastfeeding made me perpetually, ravenously hungry, like when I was in the first trimester? Or am I alone in this?

This Mommy’s rights October 7, 2008

There is always this strange urge to write whenever the sky’s swollen with low grey clouds, or already storming with rage. The homeland’s looking a little solemn, but there’s still the lushness of the morning air to revel in. I had major insomnia last night, from the high of Mamma Mia-ing. I wanted to get up and dance with the huddy, but the rest of the theatre crowd looked simply sedated and contented to just passively watch the show. Good goblins, let’s have it again on DVD and we’ll SING ALONG!

So I spent the night humming away and reading up on traditional Chinese confinement beliefs. I’m so not a purist, and a strange sense of fear is compounding – I just might offend my well-meaning folks in my postpartum days (no, not calling the resting period the confinement period). I am showering (no herbal sachet, no!), washing my hair, cooking for Latte, drinking cold water, having the fan ventilate the homeland in the day, and I’m so not having anything with ginger/sesame oil/rice wine more than once (ok, twice) a week. My mum’s aware of my quirks when it comes to ancient beliefs not backed up by modern science – after all, I did away with at least three quarters of the traditional wedding customs. But it’ll be hard to tell the sweet in-laws nicely that “I want to be a happy newly-minted mum, and yucky Chinese food makes me grouchy”. I wish I weren’t so finicky with food, and such a customs-snob. But I am. And it’s going to be such a challenge come next month.

A nice slice of cheesecake, some cookies, sandwiches, plain naan, or berries would be very very welcome. Chicken essence and anything herbal/Chinese is not.

It’s time obsolete customs stop ruining poor mummies’ recuperating days.

Walkathon September 30, 2008

I shopped for a straight five hours today, from some warehouse in Keppel, to Ikea, to Anchorpoint, to Tiong Bahru Plaza, and finally to dear old Junction 8. After a short break, it was back to the familiar mall for errands and some more shopping. Yesterday was lusting after maxi-dresses in Far East, beer at Paulaners (hot chocolate and buffalo wings for me) with the huddy and Lionel , and a very fruitful trip at Jason’s (bagels, finally).

Good birkies make a difference. I can almost run.

Many asked when I’m due. I said in five weeks. They looked at my tummy, and my shopping bags, and almost all would say, “You don’t look like you’re giving birth next month!”

I am. I really am. Hence the frantic shopping.

Five more weeks.

My glow in my belly, I’ll see you really soon.

one year older, but i feel younger February 17, 2008

dim sum brunchie this morning.

country shopping for the wifey.

a birthday party in the evening.

balloons, pizzas, salad and lemon honey.

songs and wishes.

love and kisses.

thank you all.

monday confetti January 29, 2008

my clutch with my handphone, lost and found, at the coffeeshop downstairs. retrieved and kept safe for me by the man we call ‘blur blur uncle’ because he always gets our orders wrong. when i gave him a box of fruits later to say thanks to him and his colleague (who was almost going up to my place for special wallet delivery), he paused for a good three seconds before saying in mandarin, “thank you. i picked it up.” and he gave me a broad smile. he is blur blur uncle no more. he is good good uncle. and i will now no longer be the ‘clever girl who eats no breast meat’. meet miss muddlehead.

the day continued with an impromptu visit by the auyongs. the mummy-in-law bought us a new tap, the daddy-in-law brought his tools. just because we mentioned briefly last night at dinner our tap is dripping a little. so the tap was fixed, and we had coffee and pastries and latte fun. the homeland held a warmth that lingered long after they were gone. how do you tell your folks you love them, i wonder? i must tell them one day, straight in the face.

teatime delight was with vale over more cakes, cookies, coffee and four pots of tea in three different flavours – earl grey, vanilla and strawberry. there was jolly banter aplenty, and there never seems to be enough time when you are having fun. some chums, you just miss. somewhere along the way, they became more than co-workers, and you know these are friends you will so keep. yet another blessing.

this monday, very un-blue, very wonderful.

that love for country never goes away January 16, 2008

i often wish i had a real garden, with an impeccable lawn and leafy canopy so massive it casts dark shady shadows on the greens. there’ll be no fleas so latte can dance in the wind. we need just large clouds to stain the sky a bright white, and some spring blooms to colour the day. and a few potato, beetroot, rosemary and mint plants for that deep lovely country hue.

somewhere along the way, i’ve become so life-loving i leave the weeds alone to do its thing – live pretty. clovers have found their way around my hydrangea (still not blooming!), and i proudly show it to mrs ho who says she has never seen a real one before. they are petite little things with a story to tell. storms have come and gone and blown my bittergourd blooms away, but these hardy fellows are here to stay. they are probably growing better than anything in the flower box, and now a stray fern has come along for a piece of humble brown earth next to them.

our little green space outside is expanding, but i am greedy. i want not pots and boxes. i want plots. jumbo plots of green green grass with rainbow coloured nature taking root. so out there in the sun they grow straight, tall and proud. my papaya’s straining for precious golden rays along the corridor, and we often wonder how long it can last in that tiny pot (biggest pot we could find, but still teeny puny for mister papaya). it’s doing better than we had expected, and it looks like the tree in her kampung, my mum says. hang in there, mate.

these days, i’m too caught up with everything to breathe in the gardeny smell of home. and now i have a surge of longing for the morning. i’m yearning for some serendipity. for some slow watering and pruning. for some me-time to savour some books, scribble some words. to follow the smell of coffee. and fill some pitchers, fluff some pillows, and to do all that i need to be the country wife i want to be.

contentment is falling into sleep with a buck-toothed smile on my round face.

gotta get going December 11, 2007

i don’t know how long i’ve slept. the pills made my world twirl and swirl in a way i didn’t quite like. so out of my body, so out of my control. for two days, i fell in and out of sleep like a baby, waking up only for cuddles and feeds. i watched the huddy vacuum the floor, the whirring so ironically calming it puts me to sleep. too weak to even play ball with latte. so the lad slept by the couch next to me, playing guardian angel. this afternoon, he nuzzled his way through my castle of cushions. i felt his wet nose on my raw, cold arm and it felt strangely good. it’s like his own way of telling me to wake up. so wake up i did, to the huddy’s splendid country-styled soup and the protectors on animal planet. i tasted a little of everything at dinner today, so i must be getting better. and i’m even starting to get cravings for new york cheesecake and peppermint green tea milkshake. the huddy allowed me a small dollop of strawberry ice cream (with real morsels of berries!) which i deemed must be good for my lack of calcium. the best scoopa i’ve ever had, i must say. one more restful day tomorrow and i should be fine enough to smell the mango-camomile scent on latte and the orange peel shower on the huddy. the awesome one fixed up a shelf in the guest toilet while i was snuggled up, and now our fern sits proudly and gaily right up there. i’m not content to sleep the days away while the greens and the rain make such a peppy syncopation. one more, just one more day to rest up. then i’ll sing and i’ll kick.

thee and me November 20, 2007

this reminds me of the shoe game shane and jo played with us on our wedding night. sweet.

1. Who eats more?
i’m on project downsize – so it’s now me 1/2 portion, he 1 and 1/2.

when it comes to dessert, project downsize is put on hold – so me 1 and 1/10 portion, he 9/10.

2. Who said “I love you” first?
he, on the phone, voice disguised. i’ve been holding back the three words, so that i can tell people he said it first.

3. Who is the morning person?
him. though i suspect it’s because i have a stronger bladder and can stay in bed longer.

4. Who sings better?
i’ll be shameless here:: we can both hold our tunes pretty fine.

5. Who’s older?
him – two years (actually one year nine months).

6. Who’s smarter?
streetwise, general knowledge-wise, him.

academic-wise, the papers side with me.

7. Whose temper is worse?
not me!

8. Who does the laundry?
me minister of laundry – the full works of washing, hanging, folding and ironing (i’m so thankful we work from home now – no more sunday ironing!)

he’s minister of floor and furniture – vacuum and mop and dust (i’ve promised him to dust my own country knickknacks which more than pepper the house. it’s the only promise i’ve broken to him, i promise!)

9. Who does the dishes?
mostly me, because i cant stand dishes becoming so stubbornly encrusted that i have to scrub instead of wash them.

10. Who sleeps on the right side of the bed?
me always. no idea why. we swopped sides once and couldnt sleep.

11. Whose feet are bigger?
i’m size 4. i’ll flip if his feet are smaller than mine!

12. Whose hair is longer?
me. we both cant stand long hair on guys.

13. Who’s better with the computer?
him him him.

14. Do you have pets?
latte! our 11 eleven months old shetland sheepdog. my son, his dog.

15. Who pays the bills?
the joint account.

16. Who cooks dinner?
we take turns. we have our own cooking craving at different times, so it all works out fine.

but we make sure we have equal chances of cooking for latte. in case he favours one over the other. :p

17. Who drives when you are together?
the mrt driver.

18. Who pays when you go out to dinner?
sign with my citibank dividend card (2% rebate for dining!), pay with joint account.

19. Who’s the most stubborn?
me. i love and i hate, few in-betweens. and it’s hard to change my mind.

20. Who is the first one to admit when they’re wrong?
both, i think.

21. Whose family do you see more?
quite the same, but probably his a little more since they’re nearer.

22. Who named your pet?
me. named after his favourite drink.

23. Who kissed who first?
him. unforgettable first.

24. Who asked who out?
him. for budak pantai concert. but i made hints.

#25 is missing.

26. Who’s more sensitive?
he’s surprisingly sensitive for a guy, very much like a manly uncle agony. it’s a tie probably.

27. Who’s taller?
him – by 11 centimetres.

28. Who has more friends?
me. but he’s my best friend.

29. Who has more siblings?
we both have one sibling each.

30. Who wears the pants in the relationship?
he’s the man. i love how i can trust him to make the decisions knowing they’ll always be wise. he puts me first without saying it, unconditionally. i go to bed blissfully every night, knowing i share my life with this man who makes everything alright and confetti-like.

blame it on the rain November 19, 2007

the rain gets to me in a way nothing else can. i was all primed for a morning routine of writing and cooking. you know, all the moolah about starting the day fresh and gay and letting nothing get in your way? sometimes, all it takes is a silver pane of raindrops to break that almost solid day-long resolution. so i got up late, spread some peanut butter thinly on the bread, threw away the empty bottle glumly (does that mean i’ve finished all the peanut butter? no wonder i look how i look now), made two cups of long white, watched animal planet, and got the boy off to a good late morning walk around the neighbourhood. once home, the before-rain light breeze bandied the curtains. the air feels too perfect for working. it’s the air for watching friends and laughing and eating pasta and chips. maybe a little for writing, but only the blogging kind of writing. then the rain drums down. loud and clear to say i’m here, have no fear, go ahead and slug out the rainy-droppy day. and so here i am, unaccomplished, snuggled, slushed, and just wriggly-happy. the carpenters say, ‘rainy days and mondays always get me down’. it is a rainy day and a monday. and i’ll be doing something useful later when we hop over to carrefour to buy latte the unsweetened peanut butter for his birthday pup cake. i know i’ve fully redeemed myself.

my child, my friend November 18, 2007

every now and then, we talk about our mini kaylen. how it’s still an it, because we cant quite decide if this coined name should don a blue or a pink. whether it’ll have the huddy’s beautiful eyes and lashes. how it must have my button nose and not my chubby face. whether others will cringe at our newfangled terms of endearment for the new auyong. and how latte will be the great big brother watching over the little one ever so faithfully.

lately, i’ve been thinking about how my ex-boss always affectionately refers to her children as her assets. it makes my heart wince a little. because i know i’m treated as an investment, not an asset. i remember stories of how my folks fought for my custody because i’m the elder one with faster and higher returns. funny how things that didnt mean anything to me then look so exposed and naked now. like an obscenity waiting to be cleansed sensibly.

mini auyong will never ever be an investment. it’ll be our precious creation that deserves all the love we can give. unconditionally. when kaylen grows up, it’ll be a free-spirited one, unfettered by parental burdens and monetary obligations. it’s not an ideal situation – it’s the only milieu for our kid when we do have one.

i have never understood why some folks ask for allowance simply because “we raised you up, so it’s only right that you repay now.” i’ll give my child allowance and gifts and hugs and kisses for as long as i am able to. it did not and could not choose to enter our world. and it’ll be our love, our friend, our responsibility. never my investment. never never never.

and till we’re ready and able to give kaylen the world, the auyong family will remain a tight happy knot of three. just latte, thee and me.

bye bye blubber November 1, 2007

 

 

i’ve ballooned enough and it’s time to downsize. the pilates workout with the dvd from the neighbourhood library drenched me in sweet rare sweat, and a little of latte’s saliva – he just had to squeeze onto the mat with me for some clownish act with his kong toy on my head. i’m total thrash at physical activities, but i’m actually liking this light ache in my arms. and the random thoughts that fizzled away like coke bubbles after the session. lunch was a beautiful smoothie of honey murcotts, apples and vanilla yogurt, served with season two of friends and a light breeze blowing into the hall. perfectto. i have chicken thighs seasoned with garlic, cumin, tumeric, chilli, coriander and vanilla yogurt (experimental cooking again, but doesnt it sound just yummy!) waiting to be grilled for dinner later. life is yummy-downsizing good.

singing my song October 31, 2007

i’m one of those who never stops working for the dough. my first paycheck during the heavenly six-months post A-Levels break:: trusty delonghi oven. second paycheck:: comforter sets for the family, first computer, work desk for the brother and me. then it was massive saving and scrimping. every free day of university life was spent working because i’m too proud to take allowance. and i earned and saved enough to pay off the tuition loan within a year of graduation. and earned and saved enough to have a decent small lovely wedding, an amazing dog full of befuddlement, a charming home for three, and many moments of joy and bliss.

i’ve worked hard, i really have. gone are the days of opening my wallet full of nothing and feeling my heart go so tight in my chest i could hardly breathe. i was never rich, and may never be. but i’m done counting the cents. i think i fully deserve this non-working break. to finally do something for myself. to work and plan for a business that sees no monetary returns now but makes me so much richer in life experiences. to be busy with mini miny matters that do not really matter. to head down town on a weekday afternoon in my jaunty town heels. to oompah lampah in a home with a refrigerator full of glorious foods, a couch full of soft cushions tousled wildly, a wardrobe full of sweet-smelling folded linens and cottens.

life has never ever been better. i’m living my happily ever after. be happy for me, won’t you? how i wish you can see for yourself how lovely life can be when you stop defining it by dollars and cents.

the last drop September 3, 2007

the rain makes everything look washed. i have forgotten what it feels like to have the sunshine spread across our bed like a warm quilt. these days, we just slumber on. i like to watch the rain. the trees don a different shade of green, a shiny one. some drops are larger than others, like a water installation. nature has a way of making things pretty and i adore that. i like to see which neighbours left their laundry out in the rain, and i wonder if they are still too sound asleep, or it’s just an empty home in the day with wet laundry. i think about how much frustration they would have to find their clothes wetter than before, and they would have to wash them again. before i got married, i used to handwash my clothes, and it’s sheer pain just thinking about it. this morning, i looked out of the kitchen window and saw the ongoing of the last rites for the person who plunged down a few days ago. some schoolboy who was walking nearby was apparently drenched in blood from the plunge. i ache just thinking how sad the person must be to end his or her life this way. the rain pours down mercilessly in this last journey. it’s almost wrong, i feel. for once, i want the rain to stop.

the first, the last June 7, 2007

like the hubby, i’m getting increasingly tired of the erratic blogger. i’ve moved to yulingxpress.wordpress.com. we’ll catch up there!

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™ … March 24, 2007

Read my VisualDNA™     Get your own VisualDNA™

it’s like scrapbooking myself. ten years later, will i still be the same scrapbook?

i am liking the year that is about to go by. i wed… December 29, 2006

i am liking the year that is about to go by. i wedded my best friend who is going to hold my hand for the rest of my days. i have a beautiful home with him that brings scents of home-grown blossoms, coffee, and lots of love. i have met many a people who have charmed me with their sparkling personalities and winning ways. i have read good books, drank good wine, made good friends. next year, there will be a fitter me with hopefully a great deal more energy to set free more endorphins. fresh as a daisy, there will be a me who turns thoughts into actions, finally. a me with that puppy that lolls about, sleeps on our laps. a me and him on a race on the green green grass of kiwiland, with blunt-edged weeds sticking out shyly of brown-coloured earth. and a me who makes my loved ones smile. may the new year bring sweet joy to all.

from lil snooze’s site. my wants are endless, and … December 20, 2006

from lil snooze’s site. my wants are endless, and i’m guilty of being the material girl that lies large and not so latent in me.

three things I want for Christmas ::

1. a pasta machine for the hubby – Some things just disappear the moment you decide you want them. so the search continues and you continue to get dried pasta off the shelf. which ain’t that bad if you hadnt tasted his curry fettucine.

2. an oven – i want it so bad, but why is it again that no model seems good enough to sit next to the coffee machine? or big enough for the large french chocolate cake? or cheap enough so i still get to maintain that budgetty streak in me?

3. a wallet – the kind i lusted after in that upmarket shop in chatuchak but was too feeling too much of a scrooge then to spend my baht on. why do i have that raring up of a desire only after i touched down?

Three things I don’t want, ever ::

1. anything bad to befall my family or loved ones – lilsnooze sums it up so perfectly i have to snitch her line. too many loved ones, too much to lose. i cant afford to.

2. trapped together with those evil beings that purr – it’s my biggest weakness for the past ten years of my life, and it’s not about to go away.

3. getting fat – which i so am now. i’m afraid of bumping into people who have seen me at our wedding, for i know my big round face now will remind them of moonface from the faraway tree.

i need to learn to be more contented. i cant have … November 2, 2006

i need to learn to be more contented. i cant have both loves, i finally realise. i chose the obvious one. it aches a little, but maybe i just have to ache to appreciate what i have. so bye bye, love.