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miracle blanket

motherhood

12 weeks – a milestone

October 5, 2009

The first real milestone in a baby’s life has gotta be the 12-week mark. While every parent would like to think that every second of everyday is a HUGE DEAL, like when she first snorted at 6.38 weeks, it’s the 12th week that seals the deal. It’s the point where my baby girl stops being a newborn.

So now, THAT’s kind of a big deal.

Today, she stops being swaddled. She’s mastered the Houdini disappearing act from the not-so-miracle-blanket and her feet are starting to get bunched up from the swaddle cloth. I used to watch with immense satisfaction as she tried to struggle free from her straightjacket but without avail, and after a minute or so, she would give up and go to sleep peacefully. But last week, instead of drifting off to sleep, she wriggled for a good 15 minutes with her brow all furrowed and a determined look in her eye. Then she raised her little hands above her head as a victory sign and closed her eyes feeling terribly pleased with herself.

Look mom, no hands!
Look mom, no hands!

Today, she learns to sit up all by her lonesome. In the 12 weeks I’ve known her, I’ve come to realize that Kirsten in an observer and nothing like the adrenaline-charged-go-getter brother of hers. She’s happy to sit and watch the world go by, thinking of fairies and daisies. It’s finally time for her to debut the Bumbo and now she can’t get enough of it. It’s a fresh change from lying down all the time staring at lame mobiles/stupid birds/ceiling.

The bumbo is fun...I just happen to be constipated
The bumbo is fun…I just happen to be constipated

Today, the gloves mitts come off for good and the thumb sucking begins. I’ve come to accept the fact that my kids are thumb suckers. I’ve never introduced the pacifier and don’t think I ever will for a variety of reasons (but I’ll save that for another post). The next best thing is of course the thumb. For a while I hoped that Kirsten would be among the elite group of babies who don’t need any sleep props to fall asleep but apparently that’s not gonna happen. She sucks not only her thumb, but all 10 of her fingers with a juicy slurping sound. Almost makes me want to try it myself. At some point, I’ll have to deal with the blisters and deformed thumbs but I’ll think of something when it comes to that.

Mitts are no fun
Mitts are no fun… and I’m still partially constipated

Today, she discovers herself. Newborns are an oblivious bunch. For the first 12 weeks, they’re spaced out most of the time, unaware of everything else that’s going on around them. I used to show her her own reflection in the mirror and she would stare blankly at the girl looking back at her. Today I showed her the mirror again and for the first time, she looked at herself with a flicker of recognition. Or she could be thinking “Damn, that chick is HOT!”, which is also not far from the truth. This is the first of all the preening and posing that is to come in the years ahead and if that’s not a milestone, I don’t know what is.

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getting ready for baby

Top 5 Essential Baby Items

August 6, 2009

Following up to my list of most useless baby stuff on the planet, I have decided to come up with the top 5 baby items I simply can’t do without. These handy little devices have saved me hours of unexplainable torment – both physically and emotionally, and they each deserve their place on that pedestal of sell-off-some-organs-to-buy kind of stuff. Trust me, motherhood will be so much easier with them.

1. Miracle Blanket

Miracle Blanket

It works miracles

I only stumbled upon the miracle blanket just before Kirsten was born and boy, was that a lifesaver. This ain’t no misnomer, because it works miracles! With Tru, swaddling him was akin to overcoming a wild stallion. After 15 minutes of struggling, I’d finally have him swaddled only to have him break free within seconds. I tried all kinds of wraps and swaddles but none could hold him down.

The ingenuity of the miracle blanket lies in its use of the baby’s own body weight to hold down his arms, while providing a nice, firm hold without strangling the baby. It takes me all of 5 seconds to get Kirsten swaddled and she’s as snug as a bug in a rug baby in a miracle blankie. And there’s a point to the swaddling – it has bought me hours of uninterrupted sleep because she’s not rudely awakened by her own flailing limbs.

Just remember to get spares in case they get puked or pooped on.

2. Medela Purelan Nipple Cream

Kiss sore nipples goodbye

Kiss sore nipples goodbye

Expressing milk 8 times a day for 40 minutes each time has rendered my nipples as  sore as a distended hernia. Sometimes, I accidentally brush against stuff (yeah, they are THAT BIG) and I feel like I’m about to pass out from the pain. Good thing there’s this amazing cream to the rescue. Now I can go on my merry way and pump away pain-free.

3. Arm’s Reach Co-sleeper (Mini)

No more getting out of bed at night

No more getting out of bed at night

Again, this is a recently discovered gem. It was originally meant to aid my breastfeeding (direct from the breast) endeavors but since that has gone horribly south, I still use it to make myself feel better. Either way, it’s nice to have the baby literally within arm’s reach but still in her own cot. During those middle of the night cries, I can reach out and pat her without having to get out of bed. Sometimes when I can’t sleep, I just prop myself on a pillow and look at her.

I also love that the mini version is small enough to hold her comfortably without blocking up the entire walkway. If not, I have to scoot over all the way to the foot of the bed in order to get up, which would eventually give me a hernia.

4. Jujube Diaper Bag

Bring everything you need in style

Bring everything you need in style

Going out with 2 kids is not funny. You will not believe the amount of stuff I need to bring on every outing – milk, diapers, clothes, wipes, bottles, pump, bibs, food, snacks… It takes us 2 hours in advance to pack in order to leave the house. The question is where does one put ALL THAT STUFF and be able to find them all in an instant. I could use a large-ass tote but I’d have to spend 5 minutes scrambling to search for Baby Bites or some wipes.

That’s where baby bags come to the rescue. It’s so thoughtfully crafted, with teflon coating, insulated bottle pockets, a scrunchy key chain holder and beautiful designs to boot. Everything is neatly compartmentalized so I don’t have to dig for stuff like I’m looting some swag bag.

5. Medela Pump-in-Style (with Pumpin’ Pals)

Double breasted pump

Double breasted pump

Technically not an item that I have right now because it costs $700 a pop. I knew I should have sold off that spare kidney. I’m using the PIS’s poorer cousin, the Medela Swing, which is only half as good. For mothers who are expressing exclusively, a double pump is the way to go as it cuts down the time by half. That’s 3 hours of spare time a day, 21 hours a week, 90 hours a month, you get the drift. I could complete an entire game of Final Fantasy in that time. Heck, I could invent a new baby item, sell a million pieces and get rich in that time.

The Pumpin’ Pals also come in handy as it leaves your hands free while expressing milk so you can cook, feed or bathe the baby all at the same time.

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Father Inc

Yes, Superdad Can.

August 1, 2009

Hi there, I’m Superdad.

This post is going to be rambly and somewhat lacking in humility because I am in the midst of manifesting the full awesomeness of my powers – the Wife has just gone out to do her hair and eyebrows and potentially some shopping, leaving me alone with Truett & Kirsten.

I have successfully cleaned, bathed, fed, and put to sleep a three week old baby and a year old toddler all by myself, without the use of tranquilizers.

More reasons why I am super? Well..

1)      I am faster than a speeding bullet in preparing the milk, changing the diaper and attending to the Wife’s every whim and fancy,

2)      I am more powerful than a locomotive in opening stubborn bottle caps of baby food jars and,

3)      I can carry a month’s worth of groceries from the car all the way to my house (up a flight of steps) in a single bound.

I have been hailed as the sexiest man alive and am known as an extremely , ahem, fruitful individual, thanks in no small part to an overenthusiastic colleague who yelled “ WOW! YOU ARE DAMN FERTILE” at the top of her lungs -the entire office was shaken – when she found out we were expecting Kirsten barely 5 months after Truett was born.

A bit of background here on my powers. I am an ordinary 28 year old dude but in my quest for extraordinariness, I turned  to equipment for that little bit of extra.  I guess I’m kinda more in the Batman vein of superness with all that gear (except that I won’t call myself BatDad, if I’m not wrong it sounds this place in the middle east or something. Ok, I’m actually trying to be witty here – I do know where that is, alright? You think I don’t know my South African geography?)

While I haven’t actually gotten down to using a Man-Boob like Greg Gaylord Focker, I do need my Brest Friend’s help in feeding Kirsten – somehow the ergonomics of a man’s arms just doesn’t do it for babies and the avoidance of milk spittle on me is great incentive for me to not mind looking somewhat ridiculous wearing it.

I do need the Miracle Blanket to induce Kirsten into a deep sleep or at least bind her like she’s some psychiatric patient so she doesn’t claw my eyes out.

I need my idiotic laundry dryer that has just died on me to save me the pain of hang-drying indoors so much so that my house now looks like a quaint shop selling antiquated undies.

But with the powers combined (and the equipment in place), I AM Superdad.

Question is, does the “super” even matter?

I’ve been talking to the Wife about how as Asians we tend to be brutally raised in a typically dysfunctional family with Dads that are aloof and at times outright violent in their parenting methods – and yet we turned out quite alright, pretty normal except for the occasional violent scream at an unwary stranger. Does it matter whether we are super or not? Perhaps Hitler’s Dad was a super dad for all we know.

Yet looking at the Wife and the two angels, it really doesn’t matter whether it matters or not, because I’m not quite raising baby Jesus himself. It doesn’t matter if they don’t invent the cure for Aids or the real iPhone killer or even appear in the local newspaper with half their body cropped out of a file photo.

I’m just enjoying the journey and trying to make it as easy for the Wife and as memorable for the kids as possible. And if they do turn become Stalinist one day at least they’ll look back and wonder “Boy, with the kind of childhood I had, how did I become this messed up?”

Kirsten is crying- Excuse me while I go put on my Brest Friend.

P.S Next week’s post is going to be so awesome it’s going to change your life.

P.P.S  No, I mean it, it really is awesome.

P.P.P.S  Tomorrow’s Super Sunday Giveaway is  awesome too.

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