All new – Week Three May 16, 2012

Another week of burning shoulders and hot feet and sticky skin. I’m never a fan of the weather here, and these past weeks have just sapped out the little love I have for the sunniness we have here. Now I’m craving to wipe rain off my face like tears. The little missy was burning up to a 40 degrees celsius over the last weekend. We stayed in, slept in, all too toasty for my liking. She’s better now, fighting off that last bit of cough and runny nose, with lots of energy to expend, leaving us two rather exhausted parents piles of work and me, cabin fever.

I’m keeping to this all new project no matter. Here’s how I fared.

Day 16, 5 May, Saturday:: New bath wash. Raeann’s been on Baby Gaia since she was born. We tried others once in a while, and never really got to finish any – Gaia just rocks more. Today, I got her to try Method baby hair and body wash and she’s a big fan because she likes the packaging. “It has a big cup, and mommy, it smells nice!” It does.

Day 17, 6 May, Sunday:: New diet. So it looks like I’ve managed to shave off a few hard kilos this past half year. Being a pescetarian helps, I suppose. Today, I tried shaving off dinner by having a heavy tea instead. I don’t know if this will last, but I hope it will. I love teatime. There’s something about the three-ish hour in the day that is cheer-up-ing – if it’s a bad day, three-ish means the day’s about to be over; if it’s a good day, there’s still some hours to savour. I can have coffee and tea and still be able to sleep at night. I can eat cupcakes and not feel all too guilty. I love teatime, yes.

Day 18, 7 May, Monday:: New stall. This is one easy way to commit to this project. I still have so many stalls to go through. But oh, this one I tried today is bad. Not worth another chance.

Day 19, 8 May, Tuesday:: New age. The huddy turns a year older. The poor chap was working through the day and only got back after eight. Missy and I got to work on some birthday cupcakes (new recipe, and the little girl had so much fun decorating them with toasted hazelnuts), do up a huge card and left birthday balloon sketches on our kitchen blackboard. A small celebration for the man who has picked up pieces of my heart, mended it, and made it so much bigger.

Day 20, 9 May, Wednesday:: New facilitation approach. It’s awesome my husband does the same thing I do. We discuss techniques, practise our skills, and pooh-pooh-ed office politics together. He suggested I try something new for my class that has relatively quiet students, and so I did. It worked so well. I love my man.

Day 21, 10 May, Thursday:: New drink at school canteen. Again, not going for it again. Old favourites are favourites for a very good reason.

Day 22, 11/5, Fri:: New skill. I managed to create a (still rather ugly) latte art heart! This is really the first time it looks like a heart, and even the hubs agrees. He thinks I imagined the rest (I swear I didn’t, just that they were really mis-shapened, but ugly hearts are still hearts, I tell him).

Next week, last week.

All new – Week Two May 4, 2012

It gets tougher, but fun-er. I’m halfway in my renewal commitment, and really, it feels good.

Day 9, 28 April, Saturday:: New family photos. We won a photoshoot with Gideon Koh Photography, the very awesome, handsome guy behind my wedding photos, first family photoshoot and Missy Messy photos. The huddy and I are big fans of his work and personality, and were more than thrilled when he announced us as the winner of a little contest he held on Facebook. I wrote a comment about my special someone, and his readers have very kindly voted for me. It’s special this time, because by some twist of fate, we ended up shooting in the homeland. I’m a huge homebody, so this is just about the most comfortable shoot ever.

Day 10, 29 April, Sunday:: New recipe for Latte’s food. My little boy has been eating homecooked meals everyday since he was eight months old. On a whim, I gathered our herbs from the garden and stirred up minced pork fried rice for him, together with some local vegetables. Raeann had it for lunch too and she was more than amused how they were having the exact same thing.

Day 11, 30 April, Monday:: New shirt. It’s pale blue with puffy sleeves, and I love how the buttons allow  for transformation to a chic jacket too. It makes me feel a little preppy on a Monday morning.

Day 12, 1 May, Tuesday:: New month. May spells a busy time for me and the huddy. So on its first day, we embraced it with coffee, eggs, pancakes and a slice of lemon cake. I like the sound of ‘May’. It’s the name of my beautiful friend, the month my man was born in, and hey, the shortest word to spell in the calendar.

Day 13, 2 May, Wednesday:: New bubble tea drink. I’m skeptical about bubble tea. Most aren’t good. I randomly ordered a honey green tea from the school canteen. It wasn’t great, as expected. But at least I tried. And I like that I did.

Day 14, 3 May, Thursday:: New canteen stall. It’s my fifth year in the institution and I eat just about the same few things all the time. This endeavour brought me to a Malay stall that serves up pretty neat assam fish curry. I even tried out a new dessert – red tea jelly with longans. I know desserts to be cakes and ice cream. Local desserts aren’t quite appealing to me, but this works. Quite the perfect sweet ending to my work week.

Day 15, 4 May, Friday:: New work haunt. So I found a pretty quiet Starbucks to round up my grading for the week, and to type this blog entry. The latte’s mild, but it’ll do for a quick charge for the day.

Halfway through. Half-new-ed.

In a walk June 17, 2011

Photo credit to Gideon for our first Missy Messy photoshoot.

That morning, the sky is wrapped in thick white clouds, a most pleasant day to take long walks. Nowhere fancy, just a stroll in the estate I’ve come to call home. We stop to touch the touch-me-nots (a most fascinating creation in my opinion!) which tickle Raeann to no end. She waves bye bye to mynahs, some crows, and we meet beautiful dogs on the sidewalk. We have some lovely ones in the neighbourhood, big and small, furry and not. And my own Latte boy, the most flirtatious of them all.

These days, it’s a constant parade of raindrops, wet leaves, mud puddles and lost birds. And a most restless Latte. We’re not home much these days, and he clearly misses us. Sometimes, I want to shoot myself for being away so much. How does one balance work, family, household chores and a very active dog? Yes, I only have one kid. Yes, I don’t work long hours. Yes, my house is small. No, I don’t have a helper. No, I don’t like to call on my folks to take care of missy. And yes, I want to be here and here and there and there for my daughter, for my husband, for my dog, for my loved ones.

Life isn’t really all rosy all the time. You know it, I know it. But a walk makes everyone less snappy. I once read about a mother who whisked her whole family off late at night for some brownies and ice cream because everyone in the household was taking turns to be cranky. And she reckoned eating melted ice cream is better than having a complete meltdown. Most wise, I say. I made a mental note to deal with bad days as cool as she did.

Today, a slow walk and the fragrance of a morning cup of tea hit the right spots for me. How do you deal with days that seem right down there?

Old School Delights June 14, 2011

At Old School Delights one evening, I played erasers with the huddy, and won his collection. I played with the five stones, and remembered how terrible I was at them, and how good my mommy was. I recalled the taste of the bubbles in my mouth – the gluey taste that never really went away. But the bubbles were lovely – you could stick them together and they would go all wobbly and funny when air escaped. I remembered how I played Snap with my cousins and we were in cahoots to make my brother lose at the game ALL the time so he could help us do housework or run errands. He never really figured out how he lost every single game he played with us, whatever, whichever.

The lady boss was lovely (I love her voice!), and she shares my love for ugly deformed cakes sinking in the middle and cracked at the edges. I had to restrain myself from helping her spread that wonderfully messy of a chocolate ganache and mashed bananas – my most favourite part of baking!

That night, I relived a piece of my past that I loved. Thank you.

This evening June 12, 2011

It’s Sunday evening. Tomorrow, the workweek begins again. I don’t have the blues but I certainly wish to embrace my me-time a little while longer.

I put some water to the boil. My kettle doesn’t have the cheery chortle, but it does its job. And the fragrance of an evening cup is always always divine (tonight, I had organic mint tea from Crabtree and Evelyn). I have some deep purple flowers on the table too.

Really, this night feels right.

Slob and snob June 11, 2011

On days when we need to work, we wake you up earlier than you would have wanted to. Your eyes squint in the light, already muted a dark tangerine against our pink walls. Then you stay in bed, not willing to wake up if you know you are going to school.

In the mornings, I ruffle my hair to give it volume. I open up one eye with my left hand, put that contact lens in. Then I powder up my ace with random strokes, blush up my cheeks. The pink blossoming colour makes me feel more like a woman and less of a slob. You take them all in. While I’m primping in the bathroom, you do your make-pretend primping outside.

In the evenings, sometimes we cook. There are homey, hearty smells of dinner, and you rush to be the first one at the dining table. “I want a nice bowl,” you would say. I’m most proud when you say things like that. Next time when you’re old enough to taste the grandeur of caffeine, I’ll teach you how to drink coffee – coffee needs to be savoured, like tea. You just can’t sip tea from a non-teacup cup, you know what I mean? So, there will be no coffee from a coffeeshop clear mug or melamine cup with that hideous logo on it. Mommy’s a snob that way. You aren’t far – for a few months, you’ve been choosing your own cups and jammies. “This is ugly, Mommy. I want a nicer one.” You can’t believe the glow in my heart, my baby. That’s the way to go.

My fancy things June 8, 2011

I like fancy things that really aren’t all that fancy at all. Books with dog ears. Sloppy t-shirts. Homebaked cakes a little deformed, sunken in the middle, cracked edges on the side. Shoes worn and seasoned. Toothbrush used for a month. Teacups from carboot sale. Wooden tables with fine chips and lines. Crayons used and blunt.

What’s your favourite unfancy fancy thing?

 

 

Hi there, you from the book June 2, 2011

I don’t like books that are too new. A well-thumbed book is a well-read book. Some teeny weeny dog-ears won’t hurt either. I’m strange this way, but I don’t like the smell of fresh books. The musky smell of books in wobbly stacks, I love. The smell that tells me this thing’s got a history, a story to tell. Pre-loved things are goodies, don’t you think?

This stub of a boarding pass dropped out from a second-hand book I bought from Bookmart. Dating back a decade to 2001, I marvelled at the find. I think about how this person has read the book on the plane, choosing to soak in a novel’s plot over a blockbuster viewed on a panel the size of two phones. How did she find the book? Did she manage to finish the novel, or is she like me , always itching and reaching for the last chapter when she’s barely halfway through, just to know if it’s a good or bad ending?

I wonder how that person is now.

Hello stranger, I have your book now. My daughter crumpled the cover a little, and the spine has a few creases from my folding of the book, but otherwise, it’s well-loved. You keep well too.

Voiceless March 23, 2011

I have been managing a bad throat for a while. My voice comes and goes, the cough gets better then worse then all good then rinse repeat then I’m cursed with a croaky throaty sound from my vocal cords which I hesitate to call a voice.

So I get up every now and then in the darkness of the night for some water, for a dessert spoon of honey that glides down my throat. I  stand by the sink, blurry-eyed, into the darkness. Each time I do that, I see at least a flat opposite with a light on. I crane my neck, strain my eyes to see what’s inside, then remember I don’t have my glasses on. And I wish in my heart, that the people inside aren’t up because they are coughing like me. They should be having a nice slumber party, you know those with pillow fights and everyone dressed in jammies and cute hats?

By this time, Latte would have made himself comfortable by my feet. I would pat him, smell him, and say good night to him. I walk through the hall, and feel a warm spot where Latte must have been sleeping on earlier. For some reason, this makes me smile.

Back in the bedroom, I smile again to see the Missy in the middle of our bed, her head on anywhere except the pillow, and her legs, dangerously close to the huddy’s face. I pick up her teddy bear, smell the scent of sleep on it, then tuck it under the missy’s arm. She would stir, her legs would shift down, now resting on the huddy’s chest or tummy.

I would smile again, look at the time on my iphone, be thankful it’s still hours away from morning, cough again.

This is the diary of a coughing mommy.

Hello there February 24, 2011

I’m sitting in a patch of February morning sun – warm to the skin, a lazy breeze blowing occasionally. I wanted tea, and here at home, there’s organic peppermint, earl grey and lavendar, rich afternoon tea, green tea, and vanilla sencha. I couldn’t decide so I made myself a smoothie instead and added a shot of chia seeds. We had a long walk this morning, Latte and I. I have not felt so refreshed for a long long time. Yet as I settle down at the dining table covered with flowers, rye bread crumbs, a fushcia mug and pretty stationery, I feel a little lost. Just a little, but still…lost.

The little missy’s off to school today (just a couple of days a week), the huddy’s off for training, so it’s just me and my Latte boy. I made plans last night for today’s itinerary – grand plans like mopping the floor, washing the toilets, cleaning missy’s playroom, editing some photos. And this morning, I didn’t want to do any of these. I wanted time for myself and I got it, so I’m going to do things for myself, not for anyone else. And it scared me that I didn’t know what I wanted to do. Have my passions got sandwiched in my everydayness of being a mother and a wife? What do I like? Who am I?

Then I remembered this space. This little place I used to go to so very often to write and remember minutiae, the intimate details no one but me cares about. I want to be back. It feels soooo good to be sitting down, typing ferociously away, knowing that a piece of me, of my life, is right here, down for posterity.  Smack me if I go far away again.

On the homefront, the little missy is still the sweetheart. Sweeter than ever, if I may say so myself. She speaks well for her age, and her teachers are charmed despite her incessant wailing each time we drop her off at school. She gathers her peers for diaper-changing, packs the toys, pushes in all the out-of-place chairs after meals, tells the teacher how best to wash her hair without the soap suds getting into her eyes. Her form teacher says she’s “very mature with a sense of order and helps to take care of others”. She’s spot-on, really. Back home, she reminds us to take our medicine, and always feeds us her first scoop of ice cream. She tells Latte he’s a good boy when she sees him pee onto his own pee tray. She notices when Daddy gets a haircut, when I have a mosquito bite on my leg. She always wakes up with a smile. Sure, she throws up a fit from time to time, draws on the walls, leaves half-eaten strawberries in the fridge, spills water, empties half a bottle of body wash on the floor, squeezes a third of the toothpaste on her teeny-weeny toothbrush, but all’s good. All’s very good.

On the workfront, the huddy and I are completely in love with our jobs. I guess this is it – my permanent part-time work for as long as the institution wants me. The sweet kids this semester threw me a surprise birthday party, prepared loving presentations, wrote long journals that moved me so. Each semester, I grow in strength, I get new kicks in trying out different facilitation methods, I am driven by these students. I love my job, I really do.

So this year, I’m thirty. I still don’t have a driving license. I am one of the least-travelled persons I know. I don’t own any branded bag/shoes/apparel. I am still afraid of cats. But I feel a prickle of pride when I think about my beautiful family. I wake up happy everyday. My heart is light, my heart is big. I get to waltz around in my kitchen with an apron. I have friends whom I think the world of. And I dream.

Sometimes you don’t need to know where you are heading. All you need is someone to hold your hand.

Friday’s notebook August 27, 2010

Today,

- We stayed home. She ‘cooked’ in her mini kitchen in the playroom, ‘fed’ the big teddy, ‘fed’ herself, ‘fed’ me. I cooked in our real kitchen, fed her, fed Latte, fed myself. And it feels good tinkling about in the kitchen, knowing that the little missy is cooking up her own storm in her own make-believe world as well.

- We read lots. First side by side, then she on my lap. And I think about how awfully blessed I am with a sweet-natured bub who’s so content with the little I could give her.

- I feel good about myself. It’s one of those days – those perfect days when the rain brings cool winds, when the shuffle plays the very tunes you want to hear, when the ice freezes just in time for your iced chocolate. Today, I feel like I’ve tasted the rainbow. This spirited confidence that I usually wear on the outside (especially at work), I now feel it inside of me, bobbing strong, steady like the heartbeat. I think, maybe, just maybe, I have finally found one thing I’m really good at – being her mommy! Of course, me being me, come tomorrow, I might sing a completely different tune, but for now, it is about this. About me loving me.

Knowing August 6, 2010

(Photo by Missy Raeann.)

I want to believe

that things will be as they should be.

That the path we took

is as right as ABC.

Sometimes I waver.

I lose sleep even.

But today, I know.

We can only be right.

I get to watch her grow

that round belly

under the pink stripes.

I get to tuck her in

and tell her stories

with her on my lap.

I live her moments,

and she, mine.

And we leap on forward,

merry as pie.

So there.

It will work out right.

I just know.

This way to April April 13, 2010

Crayola!

It’s raining where I am now. The huddy’s working, the missy’s sleeping, and I am dreaming. For many reasons, this April is one to love.

• This month marks 18 months of breastfeeding. The day she was born, I was handed a baby who seemed to be made of strawberries – pink, soft, translucent, sweet. I fumbled over many a time, and could only seem to nurse properly under the watchful eyes and cold hands of the attending nurse. Back home, there were tears of frustration, of pain, of tender moments I dare say only new nursing mothers can understand. I was most stubborn – I refused to store formula at home because I knew I might just give in. The huddy armed himself with thick books of various nursing methods, sat by my side, dried my tears, held my hand. My heart’s wrenching up just thinking of those difficult days. Together, we made it through. Eighteen months on, and here we are, cool as can be. These days, missy imitates by putting Elmo under her dress and smacking her lips. I can’t bear to stop, so yes, it’s more breastfeeding for missy and me.

• Work is rolling in nicely for us, and while it will be a busy buzzy semester ahead, I think it will be an exciting one. More moolah certainly doesn’t hurt. It’s taken us a while to make this freelance arrangement work, and I’m really hoping this is the breakthrough we need.

• I’ve cut a fresh bob, made a pair of black frames (woody!), got myself a pair of heels (in YEARS), and finally, feeling better about how I look. Still pudgy, yes. Still far from pre-pregnancy weight, yes. But I’m at ease, and Project Downsize is commencing.

• There are playdates, beach dates, park dates, tea dates, little gym dates – so much to look forward to, so many friends to hug, so much to say.

So you see, this April’s lovely. How’s your April looking?

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.