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pregnant

kids inc, pregnancy

I think my mommy swallowed a whale

Pregnant or fat

I think my son is struggling with the concept of my second pregnancy. For a 12-month-old, he’s already way ahead of the pack in terms of intelligence, but this is something he’s still trying to wrap his head around. Ever since I found out that Kirsten was on the way, I’ve been indoctrinating him in hope that he’ll be prepared for her arrival.

The first few months, I’d point to my belly and tell him that baby Kirsten was inside, and he would giggle and beat my belly like a drum as if it was some sort of game. I think it was because I looked pretty much the same, so he was blissfully unaware that in a couple of months, he’ll have to share his mommy with another sibling. Or perhaps he was really smart and the violence was premeditated.

But recently, with my stomach growing to the size of Texas, he’s starting to understand that there’s something fishy going on in there. These days, I’d ask him “Where’s baby Kirsten?” and he would nestle his head on my belly, which is the sweetest, most heartwarming thing in the world.

The first time he did it, I almost started bawling at how incredibly picture perfect it was. That definitely made it to the list of “Most Awesome Mommy Moments Ever”.

I’m hoping that he actually knows that there’s a baby inside. Then again, he could be thinking that there are a million chocolate chip cookies inside, which could also explain why he’s hugging my belly so lovingly.

I wouldn’t be surprised either way.

pregnancy

I do not have small boobs

Yesterday was not a good day for my self-esteem. Now that I’m pushing 36 weeks and weigh about the same as a baby elephant, I’m feeling a tad touchy about my weight, if you know what I mean. Call me oversensitive, but when I get sucker-punched with a 3-hit combo all in a day, I start to get a little depressed.

So in the afternoon the husband had offered to go buy lunch back and since all I had for breakfast was a measly slice of peanut butter sandwich, I was feeling quite ravenously hungry (which does not happen all the time). And the cravings were kicking in.

Husband: Orders please.

Me: Can I have 1 packet of chicken rice with extra roasted pork and egg, 1 packet of rojak (it’s this mish-mash of fried doughsticks and pineapple layered with a thick, tangy sweet sauce that’s totally sinful) and an iced milk tea.

Husband: Wow, you sure you can eat all that?

Me: Are you calling me FAT? All I had all day was a tiny sandwich! FINE I’LL STARVE TO DEATH IF THAT’S WHAT YOU WANT!

***

Later that evening, we were heading out to a barbeque with a couple of friends. So this lady (whom I suspect has got a mild case of Tourette syndrome) came into the lift and as usual, my boy was doing his socializing thing, which led to the following conversation.

Lady: You’re so cute! Very chubby too. *Turns to look at me* Just like mommy…

Methinks: You did not just call me chubby, lady. It’s a child I’m carrying, not fats alright. And it’s not like you’re that thin yourself.

***

Finally, at the barbeque, I offered to bring my friend’s 3-year-old kid to the toilet since I needed to pee as well. And as I found out, kids say the darnest things.

Kid: Your stomach is so big.

Me: Yeah, there’s a baby inside. You wanna play with baby?

Kid: *glances at my boobs* But your ‘that one’ is not big.

Me: Which one?

Kid: *points to my boobs* That one.

Methinks: Right… Maybe your view is obscured by the giant stomach, but I can assure you, they are of a very decent size.

***

In the span of 10 hours, I had 3 people call me fat/big/chubby (all the same thing as far as I’m concerned). And also, I’ve got small boobs.

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