not feeling so supermom, stuff best described as not safe for parents

It’s been the kind of week that I’m probably going to remember

April 5, 2010

All in all, it’s been a very tiring weekend. The kids are still sick but the worst is over and they seem to have turned the corner. Good thing it was a long weekend so daddy was around to weather the storm of viruses.

First off, Good Friday was good because 1. It’s a long weekend so that’s ALWAYS good and 2. Look at the name, do I even need to explain this? And then Easter was even better because it’s a day that you actually remember to stop feeling sorry for yourself and thinking about how tough life is even when it is in fact pretty tough. Also, the Easter production in church this week was one of the best I’ve seen in a long time. (great job, Bern!)

I wanted to decorate some Easter eggs with the kids this year to get into the spirit of things but with the bronchiolitis and the bloody nose, I figured we’ll do the whole shebang next year instead. I mean, I never quite saw the relation between eggs and Easter but I’m all for colorful eggs anytime.

Speaking of illnesses, I’ve got to say that Kirsten is the best sick baby in the universe. As in when she’s sick, she is completely unfussy and incredibly easy to take care of. Unlike Tru who goes into full-fledged hissy fits whenever he’s ill, baby girl just wants to lie in bed and sleep all day long. Without crying. When I carry her, she slumps over on my chest and snuggles. It’s the sweetest thing in the world and I just want to hold her forever. Only thing is, she’s coughing her lungs out throughout the night, which is by far the most heartbreaking sound I’ve ever heard.

So last night, Kelvin valiantly gave up his side of the bed for Kirsten so that I could keep an eye on her. Then at 4am, Tru woke up with a nightmare and insisted he wanted to sleep on our bed too so I found myself on the floor. Without even a pillow for my head because my kids are pillow tyrants and I am utterly at their mercy. I think this means we need more pillows. And a decoy bed to confuse them whenever they’re sick.

I woke up this morning feeling like I got run over by a truck but the kids woke up looking better than they did all of last week so that’s more than I could ask for. If I get through this week, I’m celebrating with a nice Sunday brunch at Rider’s cafe.

In other news, it wasn’t a good week for soccer because with the season coming to a close, we lost the first leg of the Champion’s League to Bayern Munich, lost Rooney to an ankle sprain and lost to Chelsea scum all in a span of five days thanks to some colossally bad refereeing. I know, I don’t usually talk about soccer here but I’m so gutted by the results that I’ve got to talk about it somewhere neutral.

The husband is rooting for Arsenal so the battle lines are drawn. Whoever loses the league will have to wear a Tshirt that says “Arsenal/Man Utd sucks” for a day and lose all gloating rights. It’s down to the wire so here’s hoping the next five games give us something of a miracle.

Although I’m going to come out and say this once and for all. Whatever the results, this season has been nothing but a display of our resilience. With Ronaldo gone and the injuries we’ve had, I’m proud that we’ve come this far, with a real shot at our 19th league title.

Let’s go out and win this.

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not feeling so supermom

Running to stand still

April 1, 2010

Do you ever feel like you’re running so hard just to stand still? Like you want to stop because you’re not getting anywhere but you’re afraid of the alternative once you stop running.

Some days, I feel like I’m making progress, heading somewhere, and I know that because I can see the scenery change as I go. But days like today, I’m running on a treadmill. Running just to stay in the same place. The worst thing is that I don’t know how I ended up here or how to get off.

Which is why I don’t do treadmills. It’s too depressing.

Tru’s been down with another bronchiolitis infection and that’s twice in two months. He’s wheezing and gasping for air… again. First of all, kids are not supposed to NOT breathe because last time I checked, breathing is sort of a prerequisite of being alive. His stomach hurts and he refuses to sleep and calling him foul-tempered is the mother of all understatements.

Baby girl, despite her Rambo immune system, has also succumbed to the virus. I’m supposed to keep them apart so that the germfest will not have a chance to party. Also because putting two cranky babies together is like watching a pitbull fight. It’s a bloody massacre.

Except that there’s two of them and one of me. Which means I’ve got to choose between the two of them. Normally, I’d go with Kirsten seeing that she’s more likely to bang her head or stub her fingers but I’m pretty sure being in danger of not breathing trumps losing things like fingers or brain cells.

So I carry Tru because that’s all he wants me to do. All day long. He just screams and goes “mommy, carry me, carry me, carry meeeee.” Every few minutes I put him down and go carry Kirsten, who is sobbing like the girls in those Korean dramas who’ve lost their husband, babies, limbs, sight and sanity at the same time. Koreans redefine melodrama, but I’ll come to that later.

My kids, though, are having a competition to see who clings on to my ankles harder. Good thing I’ve got two of those so they don’t have to fight over that, thank God.

To top it all off, I just got sucker-punched in the face. Not literally, of course. Still hurts just the same. Maybe tomorrow I can stop running.

But today, I just hold my babies because it makes them feel better.

UPDATE: Turns out, I’m like some kind of psychic because I just came back from the doctor’s with baby girl who got sucker-punched in the nose. Literally. By her brother. With my iPhone. I left them for 30 seconds to warm Kirsten’s milk and in that time, they started fighting and Tru grabbed my phone and walloped her in the nose. I dropped the milk and ran back into the room to find Kirsten screaming and blood coming out from her nose. Which is right about the time I started to lose. my. shit. because after the day I’ve had, a bloody nose on my baby girl is like the finishing touch on this masterpiece.

The good news is that she’s going to be fine. I made the doctor check everything twice just to be sure and her nose is a little red but it’s not broken or anything. I’ve just got to keep a lookout for signs of head trauma.

Seriously, I’m not sure this day can get any worse.

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lists you should paste on your fridge, milestones & musings

A bucketful of dreams

March 30, 2010

It’s hard to believe that I’ve been doing this mommy gig for almost two years. As Tru approaches his second birthday, I can’t help but feel like time is slipping through my fingers without even noticing it’s gone,

Two years of living, sleeping, breathing, thinking of nothing else but the kids. It seemed like yesterday when I was still dreaming of the powdered peaks in Lake Tahoe and planning my career as a media person. I used to say that Singapore was too small for me. I dreamed of joining a PR firm in New York, going on a book tour, shooting a film, learning dance, maybe even writing a screenplay. I wasn’t going to spend my life doing the same thing in the same place until I got too old to bother trying something new.

Then kids came along. And for a while, I stopped dreaming. I was content, even happy to wake up every morning to my babies. Heck, I even managed to not leave the house for a whole year (except for a couple of hours every weekend). All I wanted to do everyday was to survive till nightfall, when I could sit back and breathe before a new day ambushed me.

I wasn’t counting on the kids growing up so fast. Every day, it gets a little bit less intense and they need me a little less. And to be honest, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do when they start going to school and getting married and starting their own families. I know that’s a long time away but this thing called time, it sneaks away from you. One day you’re 18 and unstoppable but before you know it, you’re left wondering what you did with all that time.

I love being a mom and I’d gladly spend the next 25 years kissing boo boos and telling stories and making fish fingers. But lately I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s not too late to dream again. When the kids are all grown up, I want to have something to call my own. Something that has a bit of my heart and soul. Something I can keep doing till I’m really, really old.

I’m not sure what that is yet, but at least, I’m trying to figure it out before it’s too late. So I’m starting a bucket list. And when I’m done with it, I’ll start another. And another. And another. And then, I’ll do one more.

1. Join the circus for a day

2. Build a life-sized snowman

3. Learn photography (with a proper DSLR camera)

4. Write for the New York Times

5. Do stand-up comedy even if nobody laughs

6. Spend a night in Yosemite

7. Hot air ballooning

8. Visit Israel and take a dip in the Dead sea

9. Watch a match at Old Trafford and scream myself crazy

10. Grow my own vegetables. In my own garden.

11. Shoot a short film

12. Start a beach bonfire and snuggle up all warm and cosy

13. Skinny dipping

14. Drive a formula one car

15. Publish a book

16. Travel for a year

17. Be a mascot in Disneyland

18. Ride a mechanical bull

19. Attend the Academy Awards

20. Follow a band on tour

21. Build a large ass sandcastle

What’s in your bucket list?

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