motherhood

Version 2.0

Having babies change you. And I’m not talking about the obvious ones like the additional 30 pounds of fats or how my thighs will never be cellulite free again, or how my boobs are no longer tiny and perky. The changes are subtle. They kinda sneak up on you and before you know it, BAM! And I’m like I don’t even recognize this person looking back at me in the mirror anymore. How did I get here? I liked the old me. The old me was fun and loved to party and didn’t talk about kids all the time and drank coffee with wild abandon.

Without realizing it, I had morphed into one of those middle-aged homely mothers whose life I used to scoff at. I used to say that having kids won’t make a difference to my life and I’d still be as cool as ever. Boy, was I wrong.

1. Mornings… what mornings?

For as long as I could remember, I hated mornings. You’d have to drag me out by the hair kicking and screaming to make me get up before 10am. Most days I’d be sleeping in till noon and waking up just in time for lunch. When the husband and I were still dating back in college, he asked me out to see the sunrise one morning (his idea of being romantic and all). In response, I grunted something like “You want me to get up at 6am to DO WHAT?” and that was the last time he ever asked. True story.

But recently, I’ve come to like mornings. I get to spend time having a leisurely breakfast with my boy and still have time to get plenty of things done before the madness peaks at noon. I’ve also learnt to treasure the moments of respite just before day breaks. It’s so peaceful and quiet. The air is fresh and I can almost hear the stillness of the morning. Love it.

2. Home sweet home

Being out late was like a prerequisite of having fun. It didn’t matter what the activity was – drinks, movies, clubs, loitering the streets like some sort of delinquent. I suppose part of the reason was because we just wanted to spend time together for as long as possible and being out sure beat being chaperoned at home. That all changed after we got married. Now, we’d rather snuggle up on the sofa to watch a movie or laze in bed.

With kids in the picture, it’s even worse. Going out is like preparing for war. By the time we reach the mall, we’d be so exhausted that all we want to do is turn around and go home.

3. Coffee addict

Hi, my name is Daphne and I’m a coffeeholic. I used to live on coffee and nothing else. I could knock back 7-8 cups a day without flinching (sometimes without eating). When I first discovered I was pregnant with Tru and had to give up coffee, I suffered from severe withdrawal for the entire first month. I felt like my life had lost its meaning. I’d wake up in the morning and reach out for a cuppa, only to realize that it was off limits and end up sulking for the rest of the day, being all edgy and irritable. Having abstained from coffee for 2 years, I’m glad to say that I’m now coffee-free and still happy. Wait till I get my hands on the Nespresso machine and things might change, but for now, my life doesn’t stop without caffeine.

4. Cooking mama

If I could help it, I’d never step into the kitchen (except to make coffee) because cooking is the bane of my existence. The marketing, preparation, cooking and the truckload of cleaning that follows. After that, there’ll be that layer of oil and grime that coats the entire kitchen. Urgh. I like my food to magically appear in front of me and disappear the way it came after I’m done with it.

Having kids change that. They need to eat and it’s impossible to not cook at all. Well, I did consider feeding them processed baby food, but my sense of responsibility got the better of me. So I dutifully whip up nutritious meals EVERYDAY and in a weird way, I’ve come to enjoy it. I feel a tremendous sense of achievement every time I successfully add a new dish to my repertoire. At the rate I’m going, soon Tru will be able to have something other than fish porridge everyday.

I could think of a thousand other ways being a parent has changed me. I can see myself evolving and sometimes I try to cling on to the old me so I can feel young again. I suppose we’ve all got to grow up sometime. I just wish it didn’t happen so soon.

PS. On a completely unrelated note, I just got my iPhone 3G(S) and it is absolutely divine. It has singlehandedly brought out my inner geek. Steve Jobs is my hero.

PPS. Steve Jobs is not really my hero. Superdad is my hero.

PPPS. I had to sneak that in because he bought me the iPhone. Also, he’s taking the night feeds tonight.

pregnancy

Eau de Moi

breast is best - or is it?

breast is best - or is it?

Would you believe that after 5 weeks of expressing milk, I haven’t had the guts to try it once? The husband would rather die than to try it (being lactose intolerant and all – but I think it’s just an excuse) and the one time I gave some to Tru, he made a face and spat it out. Seriously, he SPAT IT OUT! The nerve. The breast milk that I spent 200 hours with a pump attached to my boobs trying to squeeze out.

I mean, it can’t be that bad, can it? I hear it’s supposed to be sweet and light. Like kinda watery and filled with all sorts of natural goodness. Besides, Kirsten seems to like it, seeing how she decimates it throughout the day without complaint.

Since the men in my house are too chicken to drink it, I thought I’d step up and give it a shot. Suffice to say, I should have learnt something from watching all those episodes of fear factor. If you’ve noticed during the eating segment, there are the eaters and the chokers and the thing that separates the two is the smell. It’s not the sight or texture, but the smell that really messes with your head. Those that smell it usually end up spitting it out.

While the kids were asleep and the husband was at work, I poured out a small glass to try. I thought of having it with Oreos (you know, twist and dunk) but since I couldn’t perform the Heimlich Manoeuvre on myself, I didn’t want to end up choking on Oreos and dying. My kids would have to explain the stupidity of their mom to their friends all their lives and they would really hate me. “Oh, this one time when we were sleeping, my mom had Oreos with her breast milk and choked to death.”

So I had it on the rocks. Except that when it entered my mouth, I forgot and took a giant whiff of it. I cannot do justice to the smell because words fail me. It’s like unpasteurized goat’s milk mixed with a dash of human sweat and a little musk. NASTY. Most of it ended up on the floor, together with the remnants of my tuna melt.

Now I actually feel bad that Kirsten has to drink this 8 times a day. No wonder she gets cranky once in a while. I should totally cut her some slack. You’re most welcome to give it a try if you want.

out of the box

She smiled at me and my heart turned to mush

Last night was one of the roughest in a while. After consistently sleeping 4-5 hour stretches, she decided to wake up thrice to feed, twice to burp, once to puke and half a dozen times just for kicks. Throw in the milk expressing and I was practically up the whole night.

When she started to cry again at 6am, I could feel myself getting edgy and snappish. “What in blazers is the matter with you? Do you hate me that much? Do you? Do you? Huh?” I conveyed all that in a grunt and a sigh, which woke the husband (who decided to intervene and burp her while I dragged my ass out of bed to express milk again. Damn, it’s going to be a LOOOOONG day.

So I braced myself,  drank my first cup of coffee in 10 months, took a deep breath and counted to 1,582, all the while mumbling “she’s just a baby, she’s just a baby, she’s just a baby… but I think she hates me”.

When I managed to pull it together sufficiently, I went back to pick her up and begged her for mercy held her for a while. Then for the first time, she looked at me, gave the cutest little gurgle and smiled. And I knew it wasn’t just gas. My baby girl smiled at me and my heart turned to mush. The events of last night seemed to vanish with that one tiny grin.

I think she doesn’t hate me after all.