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motherhood

Man dates, chick dates and mom dates

June 22, 2009

chick dates

I finally managed to catch a thoroughly enjoyable show after a series of flops. At first, I didn’t have much expectation for “I Love You, Man”, the not-so-romantic comedy by Paul Rudd and Jason Segel (better known as Marshall Eriksen on HIMYM). Ok, I actually thought it was a gay show, but since IMDB rated it 7.8, we decided to give it a shot. Which turned out to be pretty awesome. I haven’t laughed out loud like that at a movie in a long time. IMDB rocks.

So I’ve gotta talk about the concept of a man date. It sounds so wrong on so many levels unless you’re into that kinda thing, then it’s probably great. My take is this. Men don’t have BFFs and they don’t go on alone dates, not for drinks or movies or hunting. It’s too awkward. Anything more than 2 is fine, and it becomes a man group-date. They can do their masculine thing and play poker and grunt at each other.

But 2 dudes hanging out all the time, man, that’s just so gay. What do they do? Like braid each other’s (armpit) hair?

Which is why I’m thankful the husband doesn’t do man dates. From time to time he needs his guy time and goes out to hang with the guys (notice the plural form) to play soccer or computer games. I’m cool with that. But I’d be seriously uncomfortable if he was out with like his BFF all the time doing god-knows-what till all hours of the night.

Now chick dates are different though. Girls can hang out 1-on-1 or in a group and its perfectly fine. We get to go shopping, massages, manicures or just sit down and talk about all the above stuff. Well actually, we talk about guys and contraceptives and sexploits, but that’s what BFFs do. And I love my chick dates cos it’s nice to do girly stuff and giggle from time to time.

Although all that has been out the window since I became a stay-home mom. Nobody wants to go on a chick date with a pregnant woman lugging around a stroller and a restless toddler. It’s an ordeal getting a space at a nice cafe and 5 minutes into the conversation, the kid is screaming and I’m picking food out from my friend’s hair. Don’t ask.

So now it’s all down to mom dates. Only other moms with equally crazy kids can put up with the madness and mayhem. I’ve long since kissed my lattés goodbye and the only places available are McDonalds or each other’s homes so the kids can cause all the destruction they want without the disapproving stares and tsk-tsks from single chicks.

by Daphne

love bites, milestones & musings, motherhood, pregnancy

Mommy time is good for me

May 25, 2009

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.

by Daphne

motherhood

Momday Blues

May 17, 2009

Photo from youandmemagazine.com

Most people have no idea what moms do at home on a daily basis. I must admit, it seems so easy and relaxing as compared to say, a sewage clearance guy who has to wade through 15 inches of crap all day. Or a shark feeder. Now that’s a tough job.

Moms, on the other hand, have a pretty easy life. I mean, how tough is it to take care of a baby? Just shove some candy into their hands and make them watch TV all day while we take a nap or play some computer games.

This is the kind of conversation that sends me into epileptic fits.

Dude: What exactly do you do at home all day? It must be very relaxing being a stay-home mom.

Me: Well, I mostly sit around sipping my latte and chilling out. Watch a little Oprah, then head out for some scones and pastries.

Yeah, right, you misinformed moron.

My day begins at 7 (sometimes 5.45) when my kid starts shouting. I make his milk, feed him, wipe his ass. Then I make breakfast, drive the husband to work, rush back, cook lunch, do the dishes, do the laundry, clean the house, iron the clothes. In between, I’ve got to tell stories, sing and juggle to make sure Tru is sufficiently entertained. In short, I’m in a frenzy for most of the day until he goes to bed at night. Then I have my only decent meal of the day, write my blog and try to get rid of the ringing in my ears. And the madness starts all over again the next morning.

Plus, I’m carrying a 32-week-old child in my giant stomach, which just makes all of the above a lovely walk in the park.

So it’s not any wonder that I get Monday Blues just like any other job. I haven’t had an off-day, a public holiday or any sort of break in 11 months and I’m about as high-strung as a nervy kid on coke. I don’t think I’ve ever been screamed at this much in any other job. Just the slightest slip-up and my little man makes his displeasure known through one of his pterodactyl shrieks.

And the whole time, there’s absolutely no one for me to scream at or gripe to in return.

After a nice weekend with Superdad in action, the thought of Mondays make my heart sink and my stomach churn just a little. You’d think it gets easier as the days go by, but I wake up every Monday morning to the unmistakable feeling of dread that hits me like a ton of bricks.

So it begins. Another week that seems to stretch on forever. With any luck, I’ll make it to the weekend in one piece.

by Daphne

motherhood

Happy Mother’s Day!

May 8, 2009

It’s finally mother’s day this Sunday. A time to celebrate moms and their supreme awesomeness.

I feel like it’s been a long time coming. I haven’t even been a mom for a whole year and it seems like I’ve been waiting endlessly for my first real mother’s day. I’d like to say that the rewards of motherhood are sufficient to make up for everything, but if you ask me, I’m desperately in need of some pampering and something wrapped up in a bow.

I’m expecting to wake up at 11 am to a sumptuous breakfast in bed and a little blue box with something sparkly inside. Tru will be all fed, changed and ready for his morning nap. After getting smothered with hugs and kisses, I’ll be whisked off for a manicure and a massage, followed by a relaxing bath of goat’s milk.

No diapers, no laundry, no food-slinging and certainly no screaming or whining.

Even then, it’s hardly a fair exchange. A day off to relax at a spa and some diamonds is not fair trade for 364 days of hair-pulling and hemorrhoids. But I’ll take it because it says “you deserve it cos are the most amazing human being on the face of this earth”.

Having recently been admitted to the elite club reserved only for the brave souls who dared to venture into the world of motherhood, it feels different being on the other side, as it were. Like most experiences, you need to be in it to fully comprehend what it really means. I used to hear moms talk about all their mothery stuff and I can try to look sympathetic, but it doesn’t really sink in.

But now, I GET IT. They can talk about 6-hour screaming fits and I totally understand. When Tru was sick and couldn’t fall asleep, I was holding him for 6 hours straight till I was sure my arms weren’t there anymore. I hear about nappy rash and projectile vomiting and I’ve literally been there, done that, bought the T-shirt, took the photo.

It’s like how doctors have their Hippocratic Oath. Mothers also have a code of conduct that they swear to keep the moment the kid pops. In summary, it goes like this. “I shall henceforth cease to exist as a free-spirited individual and place my kids over and above my own needs for the next 18 years. In short, I will become Mother Teresa.”

Only on Mother’s Day, we get a moment of brief respite. To sit back and bask in the adoration and gratitude. So to all the mothers out there, MILK IT FOR ALL IT’S WORTH because it’s over all too soon. Savor every moment and have a brilliant day.

by Daphne

lists you should paste on your fridge, motherhood, side effects of motherhood

How you know you’re a parent

March 12, 2009

Before you have babies, you mistakenly assume that they will fit nicely into your perfect, little lives. WAKE UP AND SMELL THE ROSES.

1. Preparing to leave the house takes 3 hours

2. Shoving food down your throat takes 3 minutes

3. Shopping consists of wheeling a screaming kid around the mall at breakneck speed

4. Holidays are a thing of the past

5. Friends stop calling you out for parties past 7 pm, provided you even have friends

6. Everything has to be repeated 1,245 times

7. Movies are screened in your living room with the volume at negative 25

8. One look at the poop and you can tell what they had for dinner

9. Hypersonic screams are part of the ambient sounds

10. You no longer have a life

by Daphne

motherhood

A Crapload of Lessons

March 2, 2009

My nine-month-old boy drew a painting on the floor today, albeit a crappy one (no, literally, it was drawn entirely out of crap). It was quite a masterpiece, really. Other kids draw with crayons, but mine prefers a more organic alternative.

Lesson 1. Do not leave crap lying around

You’d think I know this by now, considering the number of times my mom has told me, ” Don’t leave your crap lying around”. Now, if I just listened to my mom, I would not be scraping crap off my hardwood floor.

We were already running late, and I was scrambling to get my little Picasso all changed and ready. I didn’t think much about it at that time, and I just left his soiled diaper on the floor, meaning to throw it after I got myself ready. Somehow, in the 10 minutes I took to bathe and change, Tru managed to unwrap the diaper, dig out a whole load of crap and smear it all over the bedroom floor.

Lesson 2. Boys are drawn to crap (hence, refer to lesson 1)

This lesson into the male psyche is not just meant for mothers. As long as you are in regular contact with a boy/man/dude/guy, you’d do well to remember this. After some extensive research, I’ve come to the conclusion that men are naturally drawn to crap and its variants (faeces, boogers, ear wax). I suspect it’s the texture, or their unusually high tolerance for funky odors, or simply their primal masculine instinct.

I haven’t heard of a girl playing with poop before, but plenty of boys have valiantly braved the way into the wonderful world of crap. I have a friend whose son ate dog droppings, another one who meticulously covered his cot with his own droppings, and yet another who dissected someone else’s droppings in the name of science, to find out what it was made of.

And if you pay enough attention, you’ll probably notice male counterparts rolling up their boogers and flicking it or picking at dirt from between their toes and playing with it. Some things don’t change.

Lesson 3. Learn to laugh at crap

So, back to the story. I stood in awe at the work of art that was laid before me for a whole minute before I knew how to react. I could either shriek and throw a hissy fit (tempting as it seemed), or throw my head back and laugh at the absurdity of the situation. I chose the latter, mostly because it was far less likely to give me hemorrhoids, and because I knew that if I didn’t learn to laugh, I’d probably come to resent these little moments which make motherhood the lovely adventure that it is.

by Daphne

motherhood

It’s Just Child’s Play

February 27, 2009

child's play

Having a kid is a BIG deal. There’s no 30-day money back guarantee, store credit return policy or 1-for-1 exchange for a new model/color.

More often than not, I feel like a kid having a kid. It wasn’t that long ago that I was prancing around in my pigtails without a care in the world. (Ok, so I never did the pigtail thing, but you get the drift) I don’t eat my spinach and I don’t like picking up after myself. If I could, I’d watch reruns of Gilmore Girls and eat pizza all day.

I must confess, in the past almost nine months, I’ve dropped my boy into his bath tub, bumped his head on the bedpost, cut his finger and jabbed him in the eye.

I’m a terrible mother, I know. All I can say is that I’m glad babies don’t remember anything that happened in the first two years of their lives. One can only hope.

by Daphne

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