milestones & musings

Finally, the big ONE

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.

kids inc

It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to

Planning a birthday party while being 35 weeks pregnant is EXHAUSTING.  The preparation and stress almost sent me into premature labour on Saturday while we were locked out of the house in the middle of the night after our lock decided to self-destruct. Murphy clearly hates me and the feeling is totally mutual.

We intended for it to be a smallish affair, but it is after all the little prince’s first birthday and my boy is quite the socialite. Villa Marina turned out to be a brilliant place for the party, with its cosy interior and stunning pool (which was the only thing Tru was really interested in).

Villa Marina

The food was painstakingly prepared by various valiant ones (all in the running for Tru’s favorite people in the world). Lunch was courtesy of Uncle Dean, chef de cuisine and food extraordinaire, together with a whole bunch of Santa’s elves all working tirelessly the entire morning. We even shot a video to make sure he’ll watch it and tear when he grows up.

Grandma also volunteered to make a huge carrot cake topped with extra cream cheese and plenty of TLC. Obviously the little dude has got them all wound around his little finger.

Cake

I suspect Tru was overwhelmed by the crowd and commotion, which explains his permanent pout the whole afternoon. But he seemed happy enough when he got to splash around in the pool.

tru-21

I also couldn’t resist one of those BFF shots. Too cute.

BFF

love bites

What men really want

The husband sent me this pic with a giant header that says “This has to appear in your blog”, so I’ve decided to be all nice and obliging since Superdad has been saving my ass the whole of this week. And who doesn’t just LOVE a life-sized remote control with all the buttons for dudes to control women.

I’m all done with my bra-burning days, so hello, Stepford Mom.

what-men-want
I love that all the needs of a man can be filtered down to 3 simple words – sex, food and beer (in that order). All the others are inconsequential.

Take work for example. The whole point of working is to earn a bunch of dough so that they can buy food and beer and a fancypants sports car, which will lead to some smoking hot sex in the sports car. Or outside the sports car so the fancy upholstery wouldn’t be all ruined which would mean the end of all future prospective hot sex, cos the only sex they’ll be getting with a crummy, beat-up junk is from a toothless transvestite who just had a hair transplant.

And married men (especially fathers) need the remote more than their bachelor friends, since their only hope of having any food or hot sex (forget the beer) is if they cleaned up the house, fed the kids, bought some diamonds, gave me a bubble bath and a nice massage, by which time I’d be sleeping like a baby, except on good days where I’m not pregnant, or having PMS or feeling too fat.

I say it’s tough to be a dude. Problem is, most guys who don’t get the sex end up eating more food and guzzling down more beer to try to fill that giant void in their lives. But then they (i’m still referring to men here) end up looking like they’re 7 months pregnant and that also eliminates all hope they have for getting any sex in the foreseeable future. Vicious cycle.

Men are, in fact, the weaker sex. Hey, read the news.

So take it from a chick. It’s far easier to do the housework and run the bubble bath. At least there’s a chance (however slim) it might just be your lucky day.