getting ready for baby

Yoga Flame, Yoga Fire

Namaste.

I won’t pretend to know what that means but I’ve always wanted to say it without sounding like a douche and what better time than after my first real yoga experience. I say real because that time where I had to do the Downward Facing Dog after losing a bet doesn’t count.

Yesterday, the husband and I attended a Prenatal Yoga Class conducted by COMO Shambhala as part of the Drypers Soon-To-Be Mother’s Day campaign. Even though Finn is our third baby, it was a first for us because the past two pregnancies, we went for a grand total of zero prenatal classes. Our birthing plan was relatively straightforward – get to the hospital and start screaming for an epidural. Bam, problem solved.

Instead of trying to breathe away the pain, I could lie back and enjoy HIMYM reruns painlessly until the baby was ready to come out.

This round, I’m contemplating holding off the epidural for as long as possible and hopefully go for a hardcore natural birth without any pain medication. It’s a long shot and I’m likely to cave and cry like a baby at the first signs of pain but I’m going to try the breathing thing to see if it works.

We showed up for the class not knowing what to expect. Our level of tolerance for New Agey stuff is notoriously low and watching someone do the Garudasana or Natarajasana makes me giggle involuntarily. Yes, ok, I’m 12. In fact, the only pose that makes me not laugh is the Savasana, also known as the corpse pose, of which I am an expert.

Thankfully, we didn’t have to do any of those advanced yoga moves. Most of the 2-hour class was spent on relaxation techniques and simple poses to help manage the pain. The general idea is to get off the bed and into positions that will help move the labor along, positions that included squatting, grabbing a wall, hugging a chair, that sort of thing.

My favorite one was lying on my side with a bolster while the husband massaged my feet. It was so good that I’m going to make him do it every night from now until I give birth.

Besides this prenatal yoga class, Drypers has also organized a series of 7 other complimentary classes for expectant moms, to help them get ready for pregnancy in as many different ways as possible. The classes range from cooking to scrapbooking to photography, and even a babies book club. There will be 2 more classes in May: a Massage class for Daddies and Interior Decoration for Babies’ Nurseries. Sign up via the Drypers Facebook page and parents will get a complimentary goodie bag when they attend.

This is part 1 of a series of sponsored conversations on behalf of Drypers Singapore. All opinions and text are my own.

seriously somewhat serious

Finally, Friday.

Ok, the radio silence is officially over. It’s generally been a rough couple of days and much time has been spent trying to find myself. I didn’t quite achieve that but I did manage to find my missing favorite top and a bunch of lost toys under the bed. At this point, I consider it a small success.

Thank you for all the love and hugs and kind emails, you guys are awesome. Please don’t ever change.

I’m still in the midst of figuring things out but at the very least, I’ve decided that I’m not going to let the bad stuff that happens to me define who I am. I can’t say that I’ll succeed but I am sure as hell going to try.

PS. It’ll be back to regular programming next week, I promise. Have a great weekend, y’all!

Kidspeak, stuff best described as not safe for parents

Hey, what’s that smell?

Kids don’t get political correctness. You know all those neurotransmitters from our various senses to our brain that makes us stop and think before saying something? It apparently takes a long time to develop, which makes it awesome to be a kid because they have a license to talk without thinking. They get to say whatever they want as and when they feel like it.

Like when it’s cold, they don’t think about why it’s cold, or exactly how many degrees of coldness is in the air, or how the cold is affecting anyone else. All they care about is that “It is cold, woman, do your job and make me feel less cold.”

So anyway, our block of flats has been undergoing a lift upgrading program so there’s been a lot of workers coming and going recently. And most of these workers spend the entire day engaged in manual labor so it’s understandable that they don’t smell like roses and lavender by the middle of the afternoon. Last week, we had the opportunity to ride with one of them up the elevator on the way back from school.

As the lift door closed, Tru looked around and remarked, “Eh, what’s that smell?”

That smell was obviously coming from the guy in front of me who by now, was starting to look more than a little uncomfortable.

Spontaneously, Kirsten joined in. “YA SO SMELLY RIGHT? EEEEE, I THINK IT’S UNCLE,” while pinching her nose with one hand and waving vigorously in front of her nose with the other.

It was turning out to be a very long elevator ride.

I considered my options. I could go with a) “Huh? Nah, I don’t smell anything…” or b) “It probably came from outside, guys” or c) “Oh look! Buttons! Who wants to help me press these super fun lift buttons?”

Meanwhile, the poor guy was shifting visibly on the spot, diffusing more of that unadulterated masculine sweat odor.

I was still mulling over my options when the door finally opened and I hastily shooed the kids out while glancing apologetically at the guy. Once we were safely home, I had some explaining to do.

Me: Kids, we can’t say that uncle is smelly ok.

Tru: But he is very smelly what. I cannot breathe just now, you know.

Me: Yes, ok, he was a bit smelly but it’s kind of not his fault.

Kirsten: I think he poo poo in his pants.

Me: I doubt it. Uncle works very hard fixing the lift so he didn’t have time to bathe.

Kirsten: We must tell uncle to bathe.

Me: No no, that’s not nice. Next time when you smell someone smelly, just bear with it. It’s not nice to say it in front of them.

Tru: Only when uncle go out already, then we can say it’s smelly?

Me: *sigh* Well, I guess that’s ok. If you really have to say it, it’s better to say it after they leave.

I’m guessing at some point, I’ll have to deal with the whole issue about talking about people behind their backs but for now, it’ll have to do.