Monthly Archives

March 2009

i embarrass myself sometimes

Parting is such sweet sorrow

March 31, 2009

Before I gave birth, I used to laugh at parents who developed severe separation anxiety disorders. A friend of mine had originally booked a holiday without the kid, but then decided it was too painful to jet set off to see the world without her little precious for five days. She started bawling her eyes out at the airport, and came right back after spending a grand total of 24 hours in the Maldives.

Naturally, I had a ton of witticisms about that particular incident. In fact, my mom can attest to the fact that I declared I’d take a 3-week holiday to California without Tru within a year of his birth. Apparently, I said “I’m too cool to be that clingy and needy.” (it’s all a little fuzzy in my mind right now)

Obviously, I spoke too soon, and I’ve got a funny feeling I’d have to eat my words at some point.

So during my prolonged battle with the flu, my mom offered to watch Tru for 2 nights so I can take a break and get some rest. It seemed like a brilliant idea. My mind told me to shut up, thank my lucky stars and celebrate 48 hours of uninterrupted sleep.

But as soon as I stepped out of the house, I started experiencing a whole host of unexpected symptoms, including but not limited to nausea, breathlessness, headaches, dizzy spells, heart palpitations, profuse sweating and blurred vision. I also had this horrible, homesick, sinking feeling in my gut, reminiscent of the days when I was away at school camp without my mommy and my teddy.

I stood outside my mom’s house for several minutes, torn between sleep and my miracle drug. I couldn’t believe I was turning into one of those disgustingly needy mothers. I was hoping Tru would kick up a big fuss so I’d have an excuse to bring him home, but he seemed perfectly happy to spend the night at Grandma’s.

Well, it was way too embarrassing to turn back so all I could do was suck it up, wipe the snot from my nose and stop being a wuss. But I have to admit, I was bawling all the way back home.

Laugh all you want, but there’s no way I’m going for a holiday without the kids.

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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

March 30, 2009

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.

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out of the box

Word of the day: Peckish

March 28, 2009

One of our banal conversations.

Husband: Babe, what do you feel like having for dinner?

Me: I dunno. Anything is fine, I guess.

Husband: Are you starving or not really hungry?

Me: What’s the word to describe when you’re not hungry but just want to munch on something small?

Husband: Moderately hungry? I don’t think there’s a word for that.

Me: Peckish. You know, like a chicken. It’s a nice word, peckish.

Husband: Yeah, sure.

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blogging about blogging, Kidspeak, side effects of motherhood

Talk to the hand

March 27, 2009

The toughest part about being a stay home mom has gotta be the death of adult conversation (No, not THAT kind of adult conversation). Me, I’m a conversation junkie, so its like taking away heroin from an addict or candy from a kid.

I used to play this game when I was a kid where everyone keeps quiet and the first person to speak loses. I majorly sucked at it. I was always the kid that had to say something first. Or else I would go into withdrawal and start twitching uncontrollably. Anyway, awkward silences make me nervous.

Now, there’s just complete silence at home, except for my son’s occasional shrieks (mostly in the key of E minor), which I have successfully tuned out as ambient noise. There isn’t any office gossip, juicy updates or intelligent conversation to go around (Tru, mama thinks you’re a genius, but I just need some time to decode the shrieks), and my brain feels like its gone into permanent hibernation.

When it gets really bad, I sometimes go on a 2-hour soliloquy. I also talk to the ants (before I crush them), birds (mostly curses), and other animals unfortunate enough to venture into my house. But the satisfaction is just not the same. There’s also a nasty side effect. I get so used to talking to inanimate objects that I forget I’m doing it outside sometimes, which makes me look like a total fruitcake.

And so I write. But it’s still a monologue, with the occasional response from you nice people. It’s kind of depressing, really. Now I know why people go for those extortionate chat lines that charge you $50 an hour. The only thing that stopped me was the long and unpleasant conversation I would have with the husband after he finds out.

So do me a favor. Send a little conversation my way so I don’t go down the slippery slope of schizophrenia.

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kids inc

The Real Prison Break

March 26, 2009

If there’s one thing Tru hates, it’s being confined. He probably imagines he’s a free spirit, going where the wind takes him. I bet he’d be happiest living in the Amazon forest, without any boundaries. And he can eat all the dirt in the world.

I really wouldn’t mind letting him roam free at home, since I’ve pretty much baby-proofed my house. But ever since we started this morbid game I’d like to call Final Fantasy: Dead or Die Trying, I’ve decided to give myself a little advantage and keep him confined in his cot whenever I needed some mommy time (genius, I know).

Not to be outdone, he’s been plotting his version of Shawshank Redemption for some time now. Believe me, it’s sheer ingenuity. I couldn’t have thought of a better plan if I tried.

At home, there are effectively 2 evil confined spaces – his wooden baby cot and this Graco Pack n Play mobile cot.

Baby Cotmobile cot

Here’s the master plan.

He has identified the weakest points in both these contraptions and has started EATING his way out of it. I kid you not.

Good thing I’m on to his little scheme, which only happened due to a stroke of luck one afternoon. He usually screams for dear life the moment I put him into the cot, but this time, he just sat down without any fuss and pretended to play with his Care Bear. I should have noticed the glint in his eye, but I didn’t, so I mistook his silence for maturity. Big mistake. Five minutes later, I heard a strange scratchy noise coming from the bedroom so I snuck a peek.

Lo and behold, he was furiously biting away at the mesh netting at the side of his mobile cot like a deranged beaver. I swear his next step was to grind his Care Bear into a scalpel and cut his way to freedom.

Curious, I proceeded to inspect his wooden cot and there was a row of bite marks on the bars. In fact, he had practically gnawed off the top layer of wood. I only hope he had the good sense to spit out the fragments.

When he finally breaks free, I’ll have no choice but to buy a metal cot, but I’m pretty sure he’ll eat his way out of that as well.

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Funny or So I think, pregnancy, sexytime

Pregnancy and Sexercise

March 25, 2009

pregnancysex

I was asked to do an interview for an article in a women’s magazine today. At first, I was all like “Why, let me check my very important schedule and see if I have time to sit down for a chat.” But before I even got a chance to savor my sense of self-importance, I took a glance at the topic – Sex and Pregnancy, and my chocolate milk almost squirted out of my nostrils.

Now, I’m not a prude or anything, but when it comes to MAKING THE SEXYTIME, I kinda prefer to keep it all to myself, and maybe at most, a very, very close friend.

However, considering that it is for the good of all mankind, (well, my experience is prodigious) I decided to go ahead and do the interview.

Q1. Being a given that sex is very important to men, was sex or the potential lack thereof a concern for your spouse when you first discovered you were pregnant?

What I should have said: First of all, sex is also very important to women. We are after all the masters of multiple orgasms. Second of all, there will be no lack of sex regardless of whether I’m pregnant or not. We are after all the masters of multiple orgasms.

What I did say: We had to sit down and talk about the adjustments we had to make with regards to our sex life during pregnancy, so that we both know what to expect and how to manage it best. Open communication is really important, rather than avoid the topic and try to second-guess each other.

Q2. What physical changes did you encounter that hindered or encouraged intimacy during your pregnancy?

What I should have said: You get bigger boobs, an increased libido and better orgasms. There’s no way I’m losing my mojo, baby.

What I did say: The belly was a real problem in the later months. It was really uncomfortable to lie on my back or side. Actually, it was just uncomfortable all the time.

Q3. What problems did you encounter when being intimate with your spouse during your pregnancy?

What I should have said: What problems? Did you not hear what I said about the bigger boobs?

What I did say: We had to think of creative ways when the stomach got too big and uncomfortable.

Q4. How did you overcome these problems (e.g. change of position, sexual alternatives, substitute with other forms of emotional or physical fulfillment like cuddling etc.)

What I should have said: There is a plethora of alternatives. Blow job, hand job, nose job (oh wait, that’s something else), woman on top, side-by-side, spooning, the list goes on.

What I did say: There was a lot of cuddling and hugging, which is good. We were also quite experimental with different positions.

Q5. Can you provide a few tips to our readers on how they can best maintain or improve intimacy with their spouses during pregnancy?

What I should have said: Pregnant women are hot. Just lay off the chips and I think you’ll do just fine.

What I did say: Have very frank and open communication with your spouse because things are going to be different, and they won’t understand what you are going through unless you talk about it. Also, have realistic expectations of each other so tension can be minimized.

Evidently, my responses were very safe and appropriate. But don’t you just hate reading sterile answers in those women’s mags where it’s all watered-down and boring. Come on, even my grandmother would have been more explicit.

That being said, I totally chickened out. I do have an image to maintain after all.

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not feeling so supermom

Groundhog Day

March 24, 2009

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.

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