Yearly Archives

2012

seriously somewhat serious

Doing the difficult thing

January 31, 2012

It’s taken me 31 days into the new year to get my resolutions done and after mulling over it for an entire month, I’ve come up with a grand total of 1 resolution. I know, I astound myself with my productivity sometimes. Well, here it is.

DO THE DIFFICULT THING. 

Let me preface this by saying that having to do the difficult thing sucks. That’s why it’s called the difficult thing.

Nobody wakes up one morning and says “Aha, today, I’m going to make my life more difficult. I’m supposed to wrestle a minotaur, but that’s too easy. Let’s get that minotaur really upset first by stealing her baby and while we’re at it, throw in a second hungry minotaur that hasn’t eaten for 2 weeks.”

Unless you’re that sort of person, then much respect to your badassery.

But not me. I’m naturally predisposed to doing the easy thing. In fact, the easier, the better. Which is why I spend so much time lying on the floor while pretending to play with the kids. I like to ease into things, tackle the easy stuff first before working up the nerve to do something more intense, all the while hoping that the difficult thing will magically disappear and I’ll end up not having to do it after all.

Except that the difficult thing is always going to be sitting there mocking us till we get it done. And the longer we leave it, it gets bigger and more difficult. Sometimes, I accumulate so many difficult things to do that it just starts to look impossible.

Until we decide to just do it.

Take a deep breath, have a coffee, then grab the minotaur by the horns and wrestle the shit out of it.

So this year, I’m doing it the other way around. Do the difficult thing first. Get the hard work out of the way before doing the lying on the floor thing. Or as we Chinese like to say, First Bitter, Then Sweet.

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motherhood

Mommy Moments

January 30, 2012

The 2 most common remarks I get when people hear that I’m pregnant again is “you guys are very fertile!” and “you must really like kids!”

The fertile bit is probably true, and for that we’re incredibly grateful.

But the bit about really liking kids isn’t necessarily true all the time. To be precise, 87% of the time, I love being a mom. The other 13%…well, not so much. And the secret is to focus on the good parts so that when you feel like making lists of all the terrible things you want to do to the kids, you remember how much you actually love them.

Maybe all this excitement about having a new baby has been making me sentimental but here’s what being a mom is like for me.

It’s having icy-cold tiny toes dig at my shins in the middle of the night and feel both annoyed and comforted at the same time.

It’s getting unlimited baby kisses whenever I make up imaginary aches and pains.

It’s not having any money to spend on my own shopping because I spent it all on super cute baby clothes. But so worth it.

It’s feeling the softness of a tiny hand inside mine and not having to let go.

It’s arbitrating fights and then see them hug it out all lovey-dovey minutes later. And then see them fight all over again.

It’s being there for a snuggle the moment they wake up from their naps and peer at me with eyes that can barely open.

It’s sharing a slobbery ice-cream cone that’s melting all over my hands and not be grossed out.

It’s hearing them say “I LOVE YOU SOOOO MUCH” even if I first have to ask “do you love mommy” eleventy billion times.

It’s losing all my me-time and not really minding because all my happiest moments are spent with them anyway.

What’s your mommy moment?

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pregnancy

Pregnancy hormones

January 27, 2012

Thanks for all the congratulatory messages, it means a lot!

I’m still trying to wrap my head around this new pregnancy thing, alternating between sublime OMG I’M HAVING A BABY kind of euphoria and a terrifying OMG I’M HAVING A BABY kind of distress. Mostly the second part.

While I like the part about having the baby come out, I’m not too keen on the 9 months of pregnancy. I have friends who make pregnancy look so easy. They get that beautiful pregnancy glow. They get curves in all the right places. They get nice shiny hair and perfect skin. And they spend their entire pregnancy prancing around in size 6 designer maternity clothing.

Me, I get 30 kgs of curves added to my ass, which means I have difficulty getting into a size 12 and have to lumber around feeling downright miserable.

I’m hungry all the time but when I look at food, I immediately want to throw up. I’m exhausted but when I lie down, I toss and turn for hours before falling asleep. Most days, I just want to curl up on the floor and wait for time to pass me by.

Just two days ago, I had 30 minutes to grab a quick breakfast with the husband before he left for work. Being the third day of the Chinese New Year, most of the food places were still closed.  We settled for this coffeeshop along Beach Road but when we got in, we realized that only one stall was open and that my only options were kaya toast and soft boiled eggs. The husband was all spritely, like “sure, let’s eat here, everywhere else seems to be closed” so I figured I’d just grab a Milo and then go for a proper breakfast after he left.

But as I watched him enjoy his eggs and toast, I basically lost it.

“What kind of a ridiculous coffeeshop turns on all the lights and then only sells drinks? And who eats stupid kaya bread for breakfast? It’s not even a real breakfast and the smell is making me want to vomit. Baby needs noodles or rice or a piece of steak. They obviously hate my baby, it’s like they’re trying to starve me, amirite?”

The husband just sat there calmly and when I was done with my tirade, he was like “is this going to be like the *ice-chips incident?”

The “ice-chips incident” is a complicated one that will require another post but it is what we say when we refer to a pregnancy meltdown of epic proportions.

“No, it’s not like the ice-chips incident at all. Are you saying that I’m overreacting?”

“It could be the pregnancy hormones.”

“It’s got nothing to do with hormones. Baby is hungry and all I have to eat are half-cooked eggs. I’m going to need some real food. Do you want the baby to be malnourished?”

“I think the baby is going to be just fine. But you should go eat something nice later ok.”

“I’m not even sure I’m going to make it till later. I might pass out from hunger while driving and then it will be all your fault.”

“Definitely ice-chips.”

“I’m going to poison your eggs when you’re not looking.”

I made it to the noodle stall in Tampines without passing out but when I got there, I felt too nauseous to eat, so I went home and had a second milo, feeling all sorry for myself.

On the plus side, there are only 2 more weeks of my first trimester left and if the previous pregnancies are anything to go by, it’ll be a lot better then.

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getting ready for baby

And then there were 3

January 25, 2012

Kids, that is.

Well, there’s technically 2 and a half now, but come August, there will be 3.

It’s no secret that we want lots of kids. I started out wanting 7 but then I actually gave birth to one and it was like “NOOOOO… WHAT HAVE I DONE??!!! SOMEBODY HELP ME PUT IT BACK WHERE IT CAME FROM.”

Then we fell in love with the squishy little bundle of cuteness and 4 months in, we found ourselves having another. I remember turning to the husband and saying “one baby is easy peasy, I could totally handle 2 no problem.”

Turns out, having 2 back to back was a lot harder than I thought. In fact, it was so bad that we immediately made a pact not to have kids for at least 3 years. It was like I was permanently scarred from having to deal with 2 infants (and I’m not talking about the episiotomy here). Sometimes when I feel the momnesia setting in, I make myself read the blog archives from when Kirsten was just born and I get a panic attack all over again. Suffice to say, the part of my brain that wants another baby goes into lockdown mode and the husband heaves a sigh of relief.

But now that the kids are outgrowing their toddler-ness, I find myself dreaming of having another tiny human that fits just right into the nook of my arm. To breathe in that intoxicating baby smell. To munch on chubby thigh rolls and hear the irresistible baby gurgle. To have another baby to baby all over again.

The grand plan was to make the baby in May this year, but we figured that we’d get a head start on it because I mean, what are the chances that we are going to score a baby the first time we have unprotected sex in 3 years? Apparently very high because I have overachieving ovaries.

So the big news is that we’re having a third little Kao.

It hasn’t been entirely easy – I’ve been bloatey, vomittey, crampey and in a constant state of general discomfort. 2 months in and and I already can’t wait for the baby to be out.

But we’re all really thrilled. And very thankful.

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picture perfect

贺新年, 祝新年!

January 23, 2012

It’s Chinese New Year and we’re having a blast spending time with our folks, stuffing our faces with bak kwa and tossing food in the air for um, fun, mostly.

We’ll be doing more of the visiting and eating and food throwing for the next couple of days so in the meantime, here’s wishing all of you a happy and prosperous new year!

Gong Hei Fatt Choi!

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quizzical

Quiz time: How much should I really be earning?

January 19, 2012

With all this talk of ministerial salaries going around, it’s easy to see how one’s worth is very much pegged to the amount of money they earn every month. On that count, stay home moms are either the most undervalued bunch or the most worthless because we get paid a grand total of $0.

Yes, I know it’s a choice we made. Yes, we get to take a nap in the middle of the afternoon. Yes, we get to spend all that precious quality time with our kids instead of having to slog it out in the office. And no, we don’t have a right to whine and moan about it.

But yet we can’t stop going on and on about how we’re in fact taking on 25 jobs and should be paid a truckload of money. The truth is, we’re not really asking people to pay us for the work we do. It’s just nice to feel valued once in a while and coming up with imaginary paychecks help make us feel better about ourselves.

So we give ourselves fancy titles like personal chauffeur, private chef, financial controller, chambermaid and counselor. But then the real private chefs get upset because ok let’s face it, stuffing a box of mac & cheese into the microwave hardly counts as gourmet chef-fing.

Which brings us to the point of today’s post. If you really want to justify your pay, you’ve got to do it right. And this quiz will help determine if you should in fact be paid all that money you claim to deserve.

Give yourself $500 for every time you answer A, $200 for B and $50 for C.

1. Culinary Aptitude

a) No, seriously, I am a private chef. I mean, look at me sous vide the hell out of this foie gras in exactly 47 minutes while I grill the filet mignon to perfection.

b) Ok kids, for lunch today, you have a choice between porridge with fish, porridge with chicken or porridge with vegetables.

c) I can pour milk into cereal without spilling and I’m really good at microwaving things.

2. Driving Skills

a) I always carry around a cup of water and a piece of tofu in my car because I can do the Jay Chou drift without spilling a drop of water or smashing the tofu.

b) I can get from point to point safely in good time.

c) Other drivers are always honking and making hand gestures at me. And these roads are so confusing, I can never find my way around.

3. Fashion Styling

a) My kids look like this.

b) My kids look like this.

c) My kids look like this.

4. Cleaning Prowess

a) Dust? What dust? My house is scrubbed and sterilized 3 times a day. It’s so clean I can perform surgery in my living room.

b) I vacuum twice a week and do the laundry every other day.

c) I think my kid just swallowed a hairball but that’s ok, it’ll come out the other end.

5. Teacher, teacher!

a) I have a PhD in early childhood education and I can teach in 5 languages, including Latin, Aramaic and Japanese.

b) I can handle basic phonics and math. After all, I did make it through 16 years of formal education.

c) This education thing is overrated and I don’t see the point of learning to spel.

6. Poop Cleaning

For voluntarily touching another human being’s poop with your hands, everyone deserves $500.

7. Private Entertainment 

a) I can act, sing, dance, do cartwheels and eat fire. In fact, I used to do it for a living.

b) Nobody has ever paid to hear me sing but I can hold a tune fairly well.

c) Whenever I sing to the kids, they cry even louder.

8. Art Classes

a) I sculpted a replica of Michelangelo’s David in my backyard, where it stands next to the Mona Lisa painting I did.

b) I can make little art pieces with glue and construction paper.

c) Why spend all that time cutting and gluing when I can print out coloring sheets for the kids on my laser printer?

Score:

Add up your total earnings and that’s how much you should make the husband pay you at the end of every month.

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coolest kids ever

Quite easily done

January 17, 2012

I didn’t think I’d be saying this but this whole discipline thing has been getting easier now that the kids are a little bigger. For one, I hardly have to deal with them screaming and melting dramatically into the floor anymore.

Right now they’re at this wonderful age where they’re old enough to understand reason yet too young to do the defiant eye-roll and stomp off while raining curses at me under their breath. Oh, I am perfectly certain that the day will come because I was once the master of the killer eye-roll. If my kids are anything like me, I’m probably doomed so I’m just glad I still have time to figure out what I’m going to do when that day comes.

These days, I employ a 2-pronged approach to discipline. For misdemeanors like snatching toys or refusing to pack their room, they face the wall for 5 minutes. After the period of quiet reflection, they will usually calm down and wake up their idea. But for insolence and blatant disobedience, they face the wall and then have their privileges revoked – usually their favorite show on TV or their daily quota of gummies.

While I was bathing Kirsten yesterday, Tru came to ask if he could waterbomb my toilet with a handful of clear plastic bags. Um, let’s see, NO.

“Ok, fine,” he mumbled.

I had a feeling he was up to no good so I yelled after him, “I’m serious, don’t do it. Keep the bags. We’ll do waterbombs another day.”

By the time Kirsten was done, I found him in my toilet filling up the bags with water. For that, I told him he wasn’t allowed to watch Jake and the Neverland Pirates that evening. When the show started, he begged and pleaded but to no avail. I was sticking to my guns. His eyes filled up with little drops of tears when he saw Kirsten watching it, but he forced himself not to cry.

“Would you like to sit on the couch with momma to read a book?” I asked, not sure if he would throw a hissy fit or scream or flail.

He peered at his sister longingly from outside the door, then held his blankie and nodded, still with tears in his eyes. For 10 minutes, he sat on my lap and read a book while trying not to pay any attention to the happy piratey songs in the background. I knew it was excruciating for him and he was really trying to be good about it.

“Tru, you did really well so you get early parole for good behavior. There’s still 20 minutes of Jake left, you can go watch now.”

“THANK YOU MOMMY!” he grabbed my neck in a bear hug before running off.

After having my butt kicked by parenting for so long, it was nice to feel like a rock star for a change.

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