Browsing Tag

pictures

kids inc

Picture Perfect

If there’s one thing I should have done more as a mother, it’s to take more pictures of Tru. Most mothers have a gazillion pictures of their tots and I have a grand total of about a hundred since he was born (Most of them not even taken by me). I bet strangers have more pictures of my kid than I do. That’s the thing though. We’re totally not trigger-happy people.

During Tru’s delivery, we didn’t even bring a camera to capture the pivotal moment. I was lying on the operating table with my stomach flapping open, witnessing the following conversation take place.

Gynae: Ok, where’s your camera? You can standby to take pictures of the baby.

Husband: Er, we didn’t bring one.

Gynae (incredulous): Camera phone? How are you going to take pictures?

Husband: Actually, our phones have no cameras.

*Awkward silence*

From time to time, I browse through some of Tru’s old photos (yes, all 100 of them) just to look back at how tiny and helpless he was back then. Here’s a few.

tru-11

tru-21

tru-31

tru-41

tru-51

tru-61

Every time I look at how small he was back then, and it makes me go all mushy inside. That’s it, my middle-of-the-year-resolution is to TAKE MORE PICTURES OF MY KIDS.

kids inc, the breast things in life are free

Here’s looking at yourself, kid

I have to ask, what’s up with kids and their own reflection? My boy is an absolute narcissist. He’s been obsessed with his own image since he first saw his reflection in the mirror at like 3 months old.

At first, I wasn’t sure if he knows it’s himself he’s looking at, or maybe he’s just thinking, “Boy, that chap sure looks stunning.”But now, I’m actually convinced he knows the handsome dude in the mirror is a version of himself.

You know how it is with the really hot people who know that they’re hotter than us mere mortals. They have this half-coy, half-charming grin that they flash, and it’s an art really. It takes years of practice to get it just right, and my son is on his way to mastering this skill.

Every time he passes a mirror, he’ll stop and preen. It’s a riot.

But if you ask me, it’s not just a baby thing. We all like to admire ourselves in the mirror, and the only difference is that kids are self-obsessed enough to make a show of it. Anyway, kids get away with anything.

Somewhere along the way, we grow up and people make it out to be like some sort of a bad thing. So we do it discreetly. Sometimes when I pass a mirror in the mall, I can’t help but check out the hot chick looking back at me. I’ll practice my killer pout and give my hair a flick before moving on. Of course, I first make sure no one else is looking.

And the thing is, we’ve all done it. It’s our way of shouting out for attention. “Hey, look at me, I don’t look half bad.” But then when it’s someone else, we’re so quick to judge if their ass is too big, or their arms are flabby, or their make-up is laid on too thick. So we’d rather avoid the pain and pretend that how we look is not that big a deal.

But take it from my boy. Who cares if people aren’t used to it. He’ll preen and pout all he likes, and mama’s not gonna tell him any different.