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milestones & musings

milestones & musings

The Marshmallow Experiment

September 18, 2009

Oh, The Temptation from Steve V on Vimeo.

Check out this brilliant video on the battle between instant and delayed gratification. It’s modeled after a test done by Walter Mischel at Stanford University in the 1960s. The test followed the subjects all the way to adulthood and it was discovered that the kids who were able to wait became smarter, more successful and get this, less likely to take drugs.

My theory is that girls are naturally predisposed to delayed gratification, and they’ve got loads more self-control, which explains why they’re generally smarter than boys.

I’m pretty sure Kirsten will pass with flying colors and she’ll be chilling like ice-cream filling the whole time, unbothered by the marshmallow. But Tru, I’m not so sure. He’ll be touching it, smelling it, licking it and grabbing his head in torment if he manages to wait it out. Given the startling results, I will conduct this test on him myself everyday until he learns to wait. And I will bind his hands with tape if I have to.

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milestones & musings

I may have given birth to a zombie baby

September 8, 2009

Tru finally started walking unaided. Well actually he started walking a while back but thats the thing with having 2 kids. Milestones start becoming not that big a deal. With one kid, it’s always “WOW MY KID DISCOVERED HIS OPPOSING THUMBS” or “HE LEARNT HOW TO PICK HIS NOSE” and everything is so fascinating and new because you have all the time in the world to sit down and observe them. 2 kids don’t afford you that luxury and now it’s like “oh great, you’re walking now – more mobility is not good for me.”

Actually we did clap and cheer and fuss over him when he finally stood up and decided to take those few first baby steps. It was so terribly cute he looked like a baby zombie with a large ass lumbering along. I think his center of gravity was off so he had to hold out his pudgy arms like a tightrope walker with each step. I tried to take a picture but in the time that I was fumbling with the camera, he tripped and fell and knocked his head and now I’ve got no picture and he’s got a giant bruise on his head. So much for technology.

With his newfound freedom also came an unexpected development though. Ever since he started walking, he’s been extremely clingy. In parenting terms, it’s called separation anxiety. He’s discovering that we are separate entities and I think it scares the living daylights out of him, like he’s realizing that Mommy is actually not his siamese twin. I couldn’t leave his sight for one second without having him scream and wail. So for a few weeks, I couldn’t go to the toilet without bringing him along. And when I bathed, I had to put him in the baby chair inside the toilet so he could see me the whole time. I only hope its a mental image he will forget when he grows up because there’s just too many issues to deal with there.

That’s the thing with having a toddler. I have a theory called the cuteness/crankiness scale. It’s directly proportionate. With every increase in the level of cuteness, there will be an increase in the amount of crankiness, and vice versa. If the crankiness goes up without the cuteness, parents will start to freak out and the number of 2-year-olds getting tied to a stake and beaten with sticks will spike. It’s just basic parenting. A little incentive to endure the tantrums and hissy fits.

Like yesterday, Tru refused to let me carry his sister. Every time I picked her up, he would throng me, grab my ankles and wail hysterically like he was being sold off to slavery. Of course, Kirsten had no idea what his beef was and she also didn’t care because her hunger was overwhelming, so I had one screaming kid in my arms and another clawing at my ankles. Then all of a sudden his tantrum subsided and he gave me a big bear hug, grabbed my face and kissed me in the ear. See, thanks to the cuteness/crankiness scale, I managed to not whip his ass and we all lived happily ever after.

But seriously, it is a real dilemma. Sometimes I wish he wouldn’t grow up so fast so I can hang on to all the baby moments but then he starts learning to do all the cute stuff like zombie walking and talking non-stop in that little baby voice and I just implode with cuteness.

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milestones & musings

Finally, the big ONE

June 2, 2009

It’s officially my baby boy’s first birthday today, and I can’t help feeling like one proud mama. Just like that, it’s been a year. 365 days of toil and tears, but also 365 days of love and laughter. In short, it’s been the best year of my life.

This time last year, I was lying on the operating table (fully awake, mind you) with my stomach sliced open and blood all over the table. I could actually see the entire goings-on thanks to the nurse who was holding a reflective metal dish just above my abdomen. My OBGYN thought I was blissfully unaware of what was happening, and I decided to play along. I was too intrigued to be able to witness the whole birthing process.

Then there was this moment where I finally heard the first cry of my little trooper as he came out screaming and kicking. But it was not until they wrapped him up and put him on my chest that it started to sink in. It was so surreal to see this tiny little guy with a headful of armani-styled hair and pouty lips looking back at me and involuntarily, I felt myself tearing.

Somehow, I knew my life was never going to be the same again.

So on this special day, here’s what I’d really like to say.

Tru,

Next to marrying your father, finding out that I was pregnant with you was the happiest moment of my life. I couldn’t have asked for a better, smarter, cuter, happier or fun-ner first kid. It’s not easy being a mom, but you make my job seem like a piece of cake.

You go to sleep on your own at 7.30 every night, eat your vegetables and clean the house for me. The best part of my day is waking up and seeing you every morning, knowing that you’ll reserve your biggest grin for mama. I love snuggling in bed with you before and after your naps as you tumble around and burrow your head like you’re digging your way to China. I relish the times that you climb onto my lap just to be held (even though it usually lasts for 5 seconds max) and look at me with those soulful eyes.

I could go on about all the little stuff you do that makes me go all gooey inside (just don’t exploit it when you grow up). But I just want to say thanks for loving us the way you do.

You’re growing up really fast. Those days when you were flailing around with your skinny chicken legs seem like a lifetime ago, and every day, I watch you grow a little bigger and a lot smarter. You’re going to become a fine young man before I know it. So before I forget, here’s a list of your mother’s words of wisdom (get ready for some serious fromage).

1. Dare to dream and live those dreams

Life’s too awesome to be afraid of failing. Attempt the spectacular and do the stuff that people don’t even dare to dream of. You’re made of tougher stuff, so even if you fall flat on your ass and the world is sniggering, just get up, flick the dust off your clothes and grin like it’s the funniest thing in the world. Then turn around and try it again. You’ll at least have 2 crazy fans cheering you on.

2. Love people with a passion

Last time I checked, wimpy, half-hearted displays of affection aren’t worth much. If you don’t love people until it hurts you in the gut, then it doesn’t really count and you’re better off not loving them at all.

3. Develop a backbone

I can’t tell you how important it is to grow a spine and be a person of integrity. Do the difficult thing and make tough choices. If you take the easy way out all the time, all you end up with at the end of your life is a truckload of wasted potential and missed opportunities.

4. Smile and the whole world smiles with you

You’ve already got a head start in this department. With your shy, boyish grin, it’s enough to make any heart melt when you turn on the charm. Don’t believe in that pessimist, I’m-just-a-realist nonsense. Optimists take over the world and make things happen. Smell the roses and bathe underneath the waterfalls. And especially when it sucks to do it, take a deep breath and smile.

5. Friendships are the most important thing

It’s no fun at all going through life alone and brooding loners usually are that way not by choice, but by the lack of it. Learn to be the kind of friend that stands in the face of adversity and is not afraid to tell the truth when it hurts.

You are going to rock this world.

Happy Birthday, my boy.

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love bites, milestones & musings, motherhood, pregnancy

Mommy time is good for me

May 25, 2009
Photo from www.images.frontdoor.com

Photo from media.sheknows.com

Being alone is awfully therapeutic. Walking around with headphones plugged in, blasting angsty music and looking all cool and sullen, without the shackles of motherhood. It totally brings me back to the days when I was in fact a troubled teen.

Except that my alone time used to be out of necessity, since nobody liked being around an ornery person all the time. To make my time-outs more bearable, I perfected this apathetic, don’t-give-a-crap-about-anything look that I thought was so cool back then. Man, I miss those days. Can’t wait till my kids are old enough to pull that stunt on me.

But now that I’m a mom, I’ve come to relish all the little breaks I like to call “Mommy time”. I get to go for walks, go shopping, do my hair, grab a cuppa and actually read a nice book that is not parenting related. An afternoon off alone can do wonders for my sanity. Not that I hate being around my kid, but when he’s around, everything seems to revolve around him. It’s feeding time, then play time, then nursery rhyme time. Even meal time becomes a frenzy of shrieking and hang-banging.

Tru has a policy when it comes to food. No one else can eat unless he gets a share. Even after he’s had a full meal with 2 rounds of dessert, he’ll still scream for more food the moment he sees us eating. So I either have to hide in a corner and gobble down my food or feed him with more stuff. I should start bringing out celery sticks to feed him, so he doesn’t end up obese.

Anyway, yesterday, I had some time off to check out the Crocs warehouse sale and grab a cuppa while Tru went home with Daddy for the afternoon. I was like a death-row inmate who just got out on parole – I did my trademark victory jig and skipped (ok, it was more like a lumber) all the way there and back. I didn’t have to lug around a kid, a stroller and a whopping diaper bag. Just me and well, that it. It was awesome. Seriously.

I came back with a truckload of stuff (RETAIL THERAPY WORKS!) and enough gumption to last me through the week.

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milestones & musings

Of new days and new beginnings

May 10, 2009

welcome_stake201

I’m loving the new domain here at motherinc.org. Don’t you think the site looks just fab? There’s lots of cool new stuff to brighten up your day like the baby blues strip and lovely new categories. Plus it’s all pink and girly and happy, which makes the whole concept of motherhood seem deceptively appealing.

The idea came about two weeks ago during a conversation with the husband.

Husband: What do you think of moving to a new domain and have your own website?

Me: That would be really cool. Except that you’re forgetting a very important fact. I’m a tech idiot and I generally can’t tell the difference between a Monet and a $5 painting you get from the flea market. My idea of a nice design includes as many colors as possible and several stick figures.

Silence.

But two weeks of sleepless nights and a bunch of gaudy designs later, I got my perfect Mother’s Day gift. Some girls like make-up and heels, but I’d rather have a website any day (and some bling, of course). What can I say, I’m a low-maintenance kinda girl, you know.

Seriously, when I saw the finished product, I was so impressed that I actually squealed with joy. Ok, so I don’t squeal, not unless a cockroach runs up my thigh in the shower (which really happened just recently and I stunned myself at the super speed at which I moved my pregnant ass out of the bathroom squealing like a 5-year-old girl), but you get what I mean.

So, here’s major props to the husband for the cool new site. For his contribution to Mother, Inc, he’s been promoted from being a regular slave to a sex slave, complete with special privileges.

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milestones & musings

The happiest birthday ever

May 6, 2009

surprisepartygiftbasket-sp312

For the first 25 years of my life, birthdays were a massive affair. It’s the only day I get to act like the Sultan of Brunei and be the high-and-mighty-princess-of-the-universe. I get well-wishes (even the perfunctory ones like “Happy Birthday, hope you have a great time”) and plenty of useless presents that eventually end up on the shelf or worse, in the trash. But still, it was nice knowing that I’m important enough for folks to pick up another photo frame from the store and have it wrapped up and all.

It’s the one day in every year that you get to stand and shout “Look out world, here I come!” The only chance you get to celebrate your very presence in this world and all the potential greatness you hope to achieve.

But after 25, it’s all downhill. You start to realize that birthdays are nothing more than a reminder that you’re quickly moving past the age of being a “sweet, young, thang” and into the “frumpy, middle-aged” zone. Before you know it, you’ll be steep into the “nasty, old hag that tsk, tsks at other sweet, young things” phase.

I used to think I was invincible and I’ve got my whole life ahead of me. And then the years start to slip through your fingers. “Like the sands in an hourglass, so are the days of our lives“. (Don’t ask, I was a fan of daytime soaps) Suddenly, you start to consider Botox and facelifts in a desperate bid to hang on to what’s left of your youth. Not a good place to be, if you ask me.

And with a kid and a half, it gets even worse. Somehow after giving birth to another human being, it kinda takes away the gloss of birthdays. Ok, so it’s the day you were born. Big deal. It’s not like you had anything to do with it. EVERYONE’s been born before so what makes you so special. If anything, birthdays should celebrate mothers for having to go through the ordeal of childbirth.

So unlike all the other years before, I found myself missing the anticipation of celebrating my birthday. More of like a “Oh, it’s my birthday already. Wasn’t it just yesterday that I was still 26.” 27 seems so old. Sportsmen approach retirement at 27. Britney’s 27 and she’s got 2 kids, a whole bunch of plat albums and more moolah than she can spend.

When I was a kid, I used to dream that by 27, I’d do something great like invent the cure for cancer or be a rock star or write a New York Times bestselling novel. But I actually turn 27 and I realize that my life is just… well, painfully ordinary. And every year, I’m running out of time for greatness.

But now I understand why so many mothers put their own dreams on hold for their kids. I look at Tru and I know that he’s going to rock this world when he grows up. He can be anything he wants, and we’ll make sure he gets a decent shot at achieving any crazy dreams he has. And best of all, I realize that maybe all the fame and recognition in the world can’t take the place of having my kids draw me a butt-ugly picture (that resembles giant blobs) and say, “I wuv you, mommy, Happy Birthday”.

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