Of babes and bears and big butt November 23, 2009

A day of friends and food. Oh, and Christmas coffee (dark cherry mocha!) and paddles and chatter. The girlfriends share my annoyance about Chinese wedding banquets and gowns and customs. They share my love for coffee. And muffins. They don’t mind being the missy’s entourage as she goes tottering around in the mall. They don’t even mind eating her dinner.

Missy Raeann had a grand day with the babes. She was Pink Bubblebee with a butt huge like Piglet’s (because this silly Mommy gave her the regular diaper instead of the swim diaper!) after her swim in the cool waters. She wanted to roam and shop away. She probably thought the teddy bears on the cushy bed are alive. She’s coming into her own now, with whims and fancies, and occasional screams and cries. But she’s ever the sweet one, the little girl I’m so proud of.

What a beautiful Saturday. I love my girlfriends, I love my girl!

The big big girl I so so love November 16, 2009

That gait around her. That glow on her face.

On mornings when I find myself hanging on to fading dreams, I look over to her cot.

And I feel life’s all good again.

The green green grass of home November 7, 2009

Every Sunday before Raeann came along, we used to get our hands chocolatey-brown with earth, pruning and primping away on our greens. It was our weekly routine, this gardening. I liked to pretend we are farmers on the meadows, waiting for a new leaf to unfurl, a new bud to un-tighten, a new bloom to love. Latte would watch us from the inside, patiently waiting, occasionally squeezing his long snout and velvety nose between the gate grilles.

So now our baby’s here. We still garden, but never quite together. I would water, and he would carry the girl and go, “Baby, this is mint”. Or he would water, and I would carry the girl and go, “Baby, this colour is green.”

I guess, in more ways than one, we still garden together.

Can you imagine Missy Raeann carrying a little watering pot with a cute little spout, watering the greens? It’ll be one that she picks, and I’ll paint little flowers and her name on it.

One day, very soon, we’ll all garden together. Missy, huddy and me. And Latte still patiently watching.

I would cook for you all day if I could November 1, 2009

Missy Raeann has been on a sumo diet for almost two months, eating more than double her usual (which is already a lot, for those who have seen her eat). And she’s such a cherub at the dining table. She hugs, she signs ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and ‘milk’, she smiles, and now she’s learning to wipe her mouth.

Mealtimes are merry times.

Grow, baby, grow.

Buzzing around October 23, 2009

Missy Raeann has been busy. She visited Bubbles and Aunty Corsage, and wanted to give her ang ku kueh to sweet sweet Baby Bubbles. A pity she wasn’t as generous to the boys.

It’s always nice to see newborns. And even nicer to see how newly minted mommies glow amidst fatigue.

Missy Raeann with the handsome boys, Nat and Noey @ Bubbles’ one-month party. Photo by Nat’s talented daddy.

With the yummy mummies. And wind in our hair.

And she visited her current favourite place on earth – the library. It’s funny how our little family loves to be around books. The huddy and I dated at Borders, had our wedding pictures taken there (and had so much fun with Gideon shooting there). Now the missy’s into running and squealing at the library. It’s nice, books are nice.

She wants to pull out all the books. The bigger, the better.

Then she played around with Bert and Ernie before her haircut.

Watch me drive Bert and Ernie around!

And today, she joined Kristy at the Little Gym. It’s bring-a-friend day, and we’re honoured to be Kristy’s friend! After bawling her eyes out outside the gym, the missy turned curious and became pleased as peas inside. She even did a few somersaults with the help of Aunty PF and the lovely teacher! I’m so tempted to join the class.

So the darling’s now all knocked out and only gave me a half-hearted kiss tonight.

Good night, my girl.

What goes down must come up October 17, 2009

@Teadot Iluma

I’m feeling low, because a friend is feeling so. This doesn’t feel real. It tears at my heart just thinking about it.

I’m supposed to be working, but I can’t seem to do anything but scroll through the missy’s photos and videos.

And she makes everything better. My little cheer-upper.

Milestones milestones milestones! October 12, 2009

This mommy got distracted by Facebook halfway through feeding the missy, and to get my attention, she went “Mamamamamama” while tapping on my arm!

Then, she insisted on having the bowl right in front of her, and she fed herself the rest of her dinner! (I held on tight to the porcelain bowl, but otherwise, she was on her own!)

Can you tell how excited I am?

I’m so charged with pride that I’m ending all my sentences with big exclamation marks!!!

!!!

One year on October 10, 2009

You see, just a year ago, you were that tiny soft mush,

Your cheeks still flushed, your eyes still shut, your hair still wet with my blood.

I held you tight and light all at the same time,

I didn’t want to let go.

Wet drops streaked my cheeks and nose bridge, I couldn’t stop crying. And smiling.

You are here!

#

The everydayness is now amplified with astounding clarity.

I stop to listen for your different cries,

I stop to watch you smile,

I stop to hold your fat little hand,

I stop short of putting you in my pocket, and believe me,

I would if I could.

#

I see you.

Your dimples lined up in a neat line near your joints, on your thighs,

Near your butt cheeks that you cannot see.

The back of your hands so slightly rounded, like stuffing, and your little fingers, drumming and drumming.

Your baby scent on your pillow, and I sink my face into it.

Those board books I read, to see your smiles flash and repeat.

Now your hair smells constantly of sweat. Of life. Of babydom graduation.

And what’s that I feel? That low twist of ache in my tummy, and a pride so high, so high.

#

Today, you turn one.

With a jaunty spring in your steps as you toddle around,

Your stacking cup with Lego in midair.

Squealing and picking yourself up when you fall.

Would you still let me hold your hand?

#

You are eager to please us with your ‘please’, and you kiss me on the lips.

Please, baby, please. Don’t stop doing it.

#

I see you.

Big baby, still bubblegummy.

Still wearing your heart on your sleeve.

My biggest blessing.

#

Happy birthday, my baby.

I’ll bake you a birthday cake every year. Every day if you want me to.

I love love love love love love you.

#

Love,

Mommy

October babies turn one October 2, 2009

First of October. Their first Children’s Day. Their first birthday. Their first joint birthday party.

Bean:: We are turning one?

Desperate attempts by the mommies and daddies to get the babies to sit still for a group shot. And a beautiful candid one we got, thanks to D!

Missing Noey!

Häagen-Dazs ice cream cake (Belgium chocolate!) from Momo – the perfect entrée.

Remarkable assortment of glorious food.

Shiny swirls spiralling down from the ceiling.

Endless flow of toys making their cameos.

Chatty, high-pitched Elmo who pretends to fall.

Gerber puffs popping out and picked up from the floor.

That gait around the babies toddlers.

Continuous peals of merry laughter.

The past-the-naptime-but-I-still-want-to-play looks on all four.

Their sweat. Sweet, and says “I’ve having a ball”.

The smiles on the mommies and daddies – oh why didn’t we take a group shot of us all?

And the presents! Chosen and made with so much love it makes me smile and smile and smile.

She goes around feeding. So slow is she in eating that Kate and Bean started eyeing her leftover cookie.

In Grandma's second creation - a peachy-pink polka dotted dress.

Still clapping.

Daddy's girl alright.

I see with much pride and joy how the babies have come into their own in this one year. Noey, the eldest of the four, leads the milestone check at every point. Bean, Noey’s birthday twin, impresses us with his toilet habits and knowledge of words and pictures. Katie the sweetie is the absolute angel who smiles and waves for everyone and anyone. And my own Missy Raeann, the dainty little lady who plays the feeding game with everything and anything.

Born within eight days of one another, this fellowship of babies and mommies has turned out to be one of the best things in my mommyhood journey. This wonderful group of mommies. We double date. We share baby notes. We meet and talk and laugh. We make plans. Oh so lovely ones about them celebrating their birthdays together every year (it’s making me look forward to their second birthday already!). And best of all, we love all the four babies.

This is the first, and certainly not the last. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again – I love you all, mommies and babies.

Happy one, you four October babies.

More of missy September 29, 2009

*Photos by CH*

She’s going to be a good hostess, I believe. She likes to feed all her cuddlies, especially Pinky Hippy. Dear friends, if she picks something off the air and feeds you her drool, just humour her, won’t you?

The little missy’s toddling, unstable as she may be. Her longest yet is 16 steps, into the arms of Daddy. Sometimes she’s precarious, unwilling to make that first precious step. Sometimes, she’s raring to go, like how she fell in the library because she tried to run and hasn’t quite learnt how to balance and stop. And most of the time, she goes back to the floor to crawl – the fastest way to get anything and everything.

And she now signs ‘please’. Pretty randomly, I must say, but a good progress nonetheless.

Baby, no more.

Heartbreaking.

But in a good way.

I suppose.

Walk on, missy! September 27, 2009

Two steps one and a half months ago, four steps this month, half the living room at my in-laws’ today!

Missy Raeann’s walking!

Every milestone is such a miracle.

Cheer her on with me, won’t you?

When you say nothing at all September 24, 2009

I’ve been tardy on the writing front. No words on the blog, no words in the pretty journal. No words even for Raeann’s little book. No words. We were busy meeting babies and mommies and families and friends (primary schoolmates! bloggers! bandmates! good goblins! gideon! wow!), and at the end of the day, I’m just too fuzzy-brained to create.

While breastfeeding just now, I had a moment to slow down, a moment to myself. I relished in the familiar sights and sounds of the homeland – Latte’s barks, the humidifier puffing out cool white mists like low clouds, the clatter of the ceramic bowls in the kitchen. I told myself I’ve got to blog these down. For what, I don’t know. Maybe that’s just me – the mundane stimulate me. The mundane’s brain-numbing, in a good way.

And then I looked down at the little bub suckling away. Her baby hair, too soft. Her legs, wrapped up snuggly in her jammies. Her long eyelashes forming little shadows on her little face. She’s turning one soon. One year old, you know? One year old, can you believe it? One year old!

I’m praying that she’s not going to blame us for a low-key first birthday. There isn’t going to be any party. No fancy cake. In a reverse fashion, we’re making cards for the folks – this will be our birthday ritual for Missy Raeann. A reminder for her to give thanks to those who have given so selflessly, to those who love her so muchly. We’re going for lunch with the folks, and spending the day out in the sun. I’m baking her birthday cake – nothing pretty, just good old chocolate cake with peppermint frosting, with a few rainbow-coloured candies thrown in for good measure. (I always like my cakes old-fashioned, imperfect-looking – I even like bumps and cracks because they look just so homey.) Daddy’s making her something (it sounds really exciting!), Mommy’s writing her something. We’ve a grand plan to paint her a mural on her wall, though till now, it remains a plan.

An intimate celebration it will be. For our little girl who’s the biggest thing in our lives. She’ll learn what it means to be contented. A sort of peace that is lasting and pure. A gratefulness for things and people that should never be taken for granted.

Taken by D at Elliot's party.

Another one by D.

In the dress lovingly sewn by my lovely mother-in-law

Eleven months of babydom September 9, 2009

Dear baby (Mommy’s going to call you baby as often as possible now, baby. And I can’t even bear to explain why),

It’s funny, how the tomorrows keep coming. They never stop and always seem to pick up speed, just when I’m enjoying you and your babyhood so much, so much. Say allo to September, baby. In a few years’ time, you’re going to love September because that’s when the school rests for a week and you can play house and watch clouds in the morning sky with Mommy and Daddy and Latte boy. And we can eat cookies for breakfast every morning, and watch the crumbs fly all over the placemats. We’ll make sure they are not chocolate cookies, or you won’t be able to share them with Gor Gor Latte.

Baby, this is a month filled with so much laughter it makes Mommy smile even before I go to sleep. And the moments can bring on the let-down reflex, so it’s even more amazing. I’ll tell you what the let-down reflex is when you’re older. It’s an odd yet beautiful thing, that I can say for sure.

Lately, you are very much intrigued by the Citibank poster at the train station. You think the man is your Daddy. You point at the 2D man, smile brightly and then turn around to point at your real daddy. “Hey Daddy, you’re up on the door!” And when shown the Phua Chu Kang poster, you aren’t amused, and much to our relief, you also do not show any signs of associating him with your Daddy.

Soft toys are your current favourites now (I refuse to bring you to see more freaky dolls). Your mouth gapes wide open like a enormous capital ‘O’ when we bring you near shelves of rainbow-coloured cuddlies. It’s like you are saying ‘wow’.

Wow.

Baby, Mommy loves the way you kick your legs when seated on the high chair. I love it even more when you do it on demand, with a very smug smile. “See mommy, I can kick my legs. Can you?” And your head goes bobbing up and down, in sync with your whimsy little swings.

Then you learned that you can make a drummy sound when you hit your belly. After your two baths every day, Mommy goes “Where’s your belly, baby?”, and you go slapping your rounded belly in the baby way that is just so funny. So we laugh and we laugh and we laugh. And you slap your belly harder.

Your repertoire of tricks extends to waving ‘no more’, ‘clap clap’ and lately, even tugging on my sleeve and leaning in close on me.

Mommy’s going to have to confess – tears started in my eyes when you did that again tonight. Almost ten times throughout the course of your dinner. Grandma says it’s a sign of a second baby in Mommy’s tummy (??!!). I choose to believe you are showing you love me. Right, baby?

Bedtimes and naptimes haven’t always been easy this month. You want to nurse all the time, and you stick your finger in to the side of your mouth and suck/bite on it so hard my heart aches sorely. You are teething obviously, but the two front teeth stubbornly stay in. Mommy’s been telling the tooth fairy to help us out a little, but in the meantime, be the brave baby and bear with it just a little longer, will you?

To coax you to sleep, we’ve been using Buddy. “Look baby, Buddy’s sleeping. How about you? Shhhh, let’s lie down like Buddy. Shhhh.” And you, the darling emulator, will cheekily put your head down on the pillow, grinning. It’s a game for you eh? You are still into hugging your cuddlies, and as I’m writing this, already my heart is scrunching up. I know I’m a cry-mommy. Please don’t laugh at me, baby. You’ll know why when you’re a mommy.

I’ve so much to say to you, Raeann. For your birthday next month, Mommy’s writing you a letter – real writing. Minutiae of your days, how you make me laugh day after day. The intimate details I can’t show, but I’ll like you to know. It’ll be in Mommy’s squiggly handwriting, in ink, so the words won’t fade so quickly. I’ll put it in a chest that’s also going to be filled with your tiny baby dresses and frocks, bibs and all. When you grow older, I’ll tell you how you used to wear that brown polka-dotted dress and dance in your teeny-weeny bare feet. The chest – your own little time capsule. We’ll add memories, treasuries as we fill the days. It’ll be a chest full of blessings.

I can’t wait to celebrate your first birthday.

Happy 11, my baby. Just one more month to the big one.

Loving you,

Mommy

Flavour of the month September 3, 2009

The top is meant for two-year-olds, and the bottom for 3-6 month-ers. Missy Raeann can wear both. Funny how the age guidelines are often so far off from reality.

It was off to Ikea that day. And might I say, it was one of the merriest outings we’ve had. She found delight in every hue and sound. She squealed her loudest when she saw the cuddlies. And she picked her favourite.

As we put it in her trolley seat, she put her head on the toy as if it were her loveley.

It melted me. And the huddy. She is impossibly sweet.

This is her new trick – most endearing. Now she has Pinky Hippy and Buddy to do her ‘hug hug’ trick.

She’s a girl alright August 30, 2009

Missy Raeann is really quite the girly missy.

• She plays masak masak with her Lego. I’ll put Lego Duplo blocks in her stacking cups, and she’ll take the blocks out and feed me with them. Or put them to her ear like a phone.
• Still on feeding -  she’ll put her hand in her mouth, do a neat chewing action, then offer her hand to me. And she’ll gladly ‘feed’ admiring guests with her hands seasoned with baby drool.
• She lies down on her pillow with a cheeky grin when we tell her Buddy (her Ikea soft toy Retriever) is sleeping. And she pets Buddy like we do.
• She squeals when she sees dolls. Those life-like scary ones. She will even instinctively put the milk bottle to the doll’s mouth. And she doesn’t even drink from the bottle at home much!

I think we’re going to have to buy a doll house for her very soon. Sans the freaky dolls.

Pretty, drippy Sunday August 30, 2009

It has just rained, and the air is cool to the skin. Outside, the garden smells fresh of mint growing gloriously in the garden. How lovely it is to sip tea (from Gen!) from a pretty cup (from Bemused!) on this drippy Sunday! I sit on the couch by the window, Janet Seidel tuned on low. The after-rain slightly-chilly breeze blows in, and I shuffle my feet gently to keep them warm.

We are going to the nursery later, for more herbs in the garden, and flowers on the table. I know exactly where I’ll put the fresh blooms – in my watering pot in the middle of the antique-stained dining table. And a small pretty one for the little missy in her hair. The cushions on the white wicker bench need some new covers – floral-patterned I hope, but none too feminine. And our family photos, big and small, waiting to be hung up on our pink wall.

This beautiful weather makes me dream. And it makes drinking tea so so lovely.

Messy mash August 25, 2009

The huddy whipped up a gourmet dinner for the missy – poached cod with parsnip and pumpkin mash, and a sauce of sorts from the vegetable stock. She was learning how to feed herself, and proceeded to hand-feed the daddy, while this mommy struggled to keep the hands and camera steady. It’s no easy task snapping pictures while laughing and avoiding the orangey mess mash! That night, we both ate what the missy fed us – from the spoon for me, from her hands for him.

How we laughed that night. It’s down on video, and we laugh somemore reliving that night’s dinner on the camera.

If there’s a divine one somewhere up there, thank you. Thank you for blessing me with this perfect little family. Thank you.

Saturday Express August 22, 2009

Some lovely lovely things for this idyllic Saturday:

Missy Raeann with a flower tucked behind her ear.

Glorious warm brownie with vanilla ice cream and pretty trickles of chocolate sauce.

Mango udon wrap with sweet chilli.

Cucumber sticks in wasabi mayo.

Afternoon siesta with the little missy.

A book, a dvd, a hug.

And a diet of chuckles and giggles and tickles.

This is the way Missy sleeps (sometimes) August 22, 2009

She makes us laugh even when she sleeps.

Every night, I have a faint desire to haul her out of her cosy bed just so I can have a last snuggle with her before I sleep. I resist, of course, and the darling sleeps through for eleven hours to grant us some me-and-we-time.

My baby, how I love you so.

Perfect ten, Missy Raeann August 10, 2009

Dear Missy Raeann,

You turn ten months old today. I want to tell you so many things, my baby. And before you’re old enough to read Mommy’s scribbled notes in your pocket, I’ll write them in this space so they’ll never turn yellow.

One:: You’re never a great lover of toys, and it’s immensely amusing to see how you take to tissue packets, clean diapers and Tangs publicity flyers instead. You like the laundry too, and more specifically, our undergarments and your little socks and bibs. My perfect little helper.

Two:: Daddy bought you a set of Lego Duplo (the only toy a child needs, he says). This new toy, you like. Maybe it’s the bright smears of colours. Or maybe it’s the clatter of the blocks. You have fun digging around in the box, pulling out a block and giving it to Mommy when I ask for it time after time tirelessly.

Three:: Teething days are here again. This time, the offensive tooth has yet to make its appearance after weeks of drooling. So we give you toothie pegs, which you love, and we loathe. The mess you make! But it’s all good again when you flash that winsome smile. My perfect little two-teether.

Four:: You’re getting increasingly aware of the sights and sounds around you. Today, a car alarm sounded and you turned to me in bewilderment. I smiled and told you it’s okay. You smiled back to let me know you’re okay too. Our neighbour waved hello to you, and you turned to Daddy. Are you looking to us for affirmation already?

Five:: We’ve been doing the high five with Latte, and you seem to like it too. Really, these days are all about party tricks. Bye bye, come, high five, flap flap, feed Daddy, give Mommy – I’m almost reminded of Latte’s puppy days of tricks training.

Six:: This is also the month where you start throwing things down repeatedly just to see the same magic over and over again. Down goes the spoon. Down goes the plate. And down goes my teether too. Mommy, please pick them up so I can throw them down again. Thank you. Oh my little perfect thrower.

Seven:: Peekaboo, you’ve always loved. And you still do. Now you peek and you hide. You love it when we lower your stroller hood so you could peer up at us with wide-eyed eagerness. You like to hide behind the curtains. Oh yes, you LOVE the curtains. Because you love them so much, Mommy so needs to wash them now.

Eight:: Unlike Mommy, you are not a fussy eater at all. At least for now. We love cooking your meals because you take all the wholesome goodness with big mouthfuls. Like this. I can’t quite tell which are your favourite foods, since everything pretty much gets chomped down. You even like the bottled foods. We’re adding pepper, basil and paprika to your food. Rather yummy, if I may say so myself. And there’s no wastage in the homeland, because your dearest gor gor Latte polishes them off the moment you drop any morsel. My perfect little munchkin.

Nine:: My baby, you’re really a waterbaby. We went for a morning swim with Uncle Adrian, Auntie Xinyun and Baby David, right smack in the middle of your scheduled first naptime. Your heavy eyelids weighed down, your eyes barely half the usual size. But in the winking waters, you squealed and you flapped. My perfect little swimmer.

Ten:: You love holding my hand to walk from the bedroom to the nursery to the kitchen to look for Daddy. You don’t like the walker at all, but you walk mighty fine with your one hand in mine. We’re so looking forward to your first independent steps, baby. Then you can finally wear your runners and the mary-janes.

There are times when I still can’t believe I’m a mommy. The surreality still shrouds me strangely. But the pure joy that comes with mommyhood is undeniable, unthinkable even. Missy Raeann, you have given us the most perfect ten months in the homeland. Thank you, my baby. Thank you.

Happy ten, Missy. Mommy loves you. To the moon. And back.

Love,

Mommy