Browsing Tag


Funny or So I think, not feeling so supermom, pregnancy

Hush, little baby, don’t say a word. Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird

I thought that after the flu virus made its rounds on the family, I’d be done with it. But a mutated strain has come back to bite me in the ass, so on top of all my other problems, I’ve also completely lost my voice.

See, I can totally appreciate the irony of it all. Serves me right for going on and on about not having anyone to talk to. Now I don’t even have a voice to whine about it. I feel like the universe is mocking me. But it’s not gonna stop me from blogging about it. Hah, take that!

Last evening, I decided to go get some new meds from the clinic near my place, since my immune system has decided to go on strike. It was a rather reputable clinic, the kind that opens till 9.30pm on a Sunday night. Which makes it all the more uncanny that they had a quack on shift just when I needed a consult. (like I said, the universe was mocking me) First up, he looked like an Asian version of a Hillbilly, except with a stethoscope around his neck.

He eyed me with suspicion the moment I walked into his office. After describing my various ailments in my barely audible croak, his first question was “Are you working?” (Translation: That was the most pathetic fake loss-of-voice I’ve ever heard and I bet your lazy ass just needs to be excused from work tomorrow.)

“No,” I mumbled. Another suspicious look. (Translation: Tsk tsk, not another knocked-up teenager bumming around at the expense of us taxpayers). He proceeded take my temperature and do an obligatory check on my throat.

At this point, I was starting to feel uncomfortable. This is the first time I’ve had to endure a silent castigation at a clinic, and by a doctor I’m not sure even made it out of med school. This was an absolute outrage.  I mean, even when I was faking it to be excused from school during my errant years, the doctors still (although unwillingly) had the courtesy to give me the benefit of the doubt.

I thought of making a snide remark along the lines of “I hope your Hillbilly quackery won’t get me killed from a misdiagnosis”, but I wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t prescribe me laxatives just for kicks, so I decided to refrain. I didn’t think it was possible, but I left feeling worse that before I went in.

I get it. Some days are just meant to be a test of character. My ego just took the beating of its life, my son thinks I’m Lord Vader, and even the blackbirds are having a field day outside my kitchen window taking pot shots at my plight. Talk about learning endurance the hard way.

not feeling so supermom

Groundhog Day

Great, my son is now also infected with the flu, which makes three. I feel like one of those ebola virus carriers they quarantine in the maximum security cells. Plus I just had one of those insane pull-out-your-hair-and-scream kind of days where you wish it would just be over.

Question: What do you get when you put 2 sick adults and a sick baby together? Groundhog Day.

The day just stretches on forever, and I keep finding myself back at the same place over and over again. Like that scene in the Matrix where you end up in the exact same spot no matter which way you go or how fast you run.

Let me see, where should I start. Tru woke up screaming at 5.45 this morning, cranky and hungry. To put it into perspective, he hasn’t woken up earlier than 6.30 since he was 4 months old, and I certainly do not function before the sun rises. Then for the rest of the day, he refused to sleep without being carried, and he would wake up after 20 minutes.

Normally, I wouldn’t indulge this sort of behavior, but looking into his doleful eyes, I couldn’t help myself. He had a stream of mucus running down his left nostril and his temperature was at 38.2 degrees. Every so often, he would sneeze and rub his nose in that cute baby fashion. So I did what every mother probably would. I held him for the whole afternoon and bawled like a baby.

I have to say, the little man is a real trooper. Thanks to his stuffed nose, every time he tried to suck his thumb to sleep, he would gasp for air and then repeat the process again. Well of course, there was no way of falling asleep like that, but he still tried anyway.

It seemed like the day would never end. But it did, and he finally drifted off to sleep. And for this fleeting moment, he looked at me as if to say, “thanks mom, I couldn’t have made it through without you.”

I guess I live to fight another day.

not feeling so supermom

Not Quite So Supermom

I’m been down with a massive flu since the weekend. That’s the difference when you’re a mom. Now when I want to go on sick leave, I have to wait till the weekends and clear with the husband (whom I have also infected with my killer virus).

What they don’t tell you is that pregnancy amplifies the flu symptoms by a gazillion times. My head is pounding non-stop, my back is about to break in 5 different locations and my  stuffed nose resembles the wicked witch of the west. The weak-ass meds are not helping either, but I can’t take anything too strong or it will knock me out and social services will come take away my kid.

My son though, is blissfully unaware of my numerous afflictions, despite the fact that I look like Helena Bonham Carter and sound like Nelly Furtado. So I’ve still gotta function like I’m all fine and dandy.

I don’t know how moms even find the time to be sick. Or there must be some supersonic tonics that I’m missing out on.

I’m officially relinquishing my supermom status now that kryptonite has been discovered. I just want to curl up in a corner and cry.

Somebody put me out of my misery.