Parenthood

Oh the sand and sea!

alittlefootprint Leave a comment

Little Foot headed with Papa and Mummy to Banyan Tree Bintan over the weekend, thanks to her Aunt (Papa’s sister) and a couple of Papa’s friends.  

Oh, she so enjoyed the swim times in the pool in our villa… just had to guard her from floating out to infinity!

She also got her 2nd experience with the sand…and managed to walk a little on it!

But oh the sea, she totally liked it but feared it at the same time!

Overall a nice and relaxing holiday for us… even though it did rain quite a bit.

The only rough patch was the ferry rides.  Little Foot (and Mummy) had motion sickness and she really broke out in cold sweat when the ferry rode through choppy waters in the rain on the way there. Didnt help that we got tossed all around as it happened just as we were in the handicapped toilet because she had tummy ache.  Thank God for the carrier… we managed to tuck her in and she finally fell asleep after she tearfully told me she wanted to go home. 

Well…. the ride home was also sick for her, but all was forgotten when she got home! 

Overall a good trip! Thanks 姑姑!

And now we know, no long boat rides until we figure out a remedy for seasickness for small kids. 

Till our next adventure! 

Motherhood makes me feel like a wise old granny some days

alittlefootprint Leave a comment

If anyone ever asks me if there ever was a life-changing, coming of age moment for me, my simple answer is Yes, the day Emma came to be.  

I had a chat with a colleague I’ve known for quite some years recently, and during the conversation, she shared a little with me about the stresses from every part of her life that was simply just not within her control and it’s taking a toll on her health.  She too is a mother. 

What I can say is that, as she spoke and I visualised myself in her shoes, it simply felt impossibly exhausting. 

A working mother,

A supervisor holding a heavy portfolio at work. 

An only child of two retirees.

A mother of a young child taken care of by her parents who regularly sends her on emotional roller coaster rides. 

Bills and mortgages to pay, and she is the one bringing in more dough.

I sense her frustrations and her tension. And it’s apparent to everyone as well.

I finally told her my take on this whole work thing — we just do what we can. No point putting up fights and resistance unnecessarily. And the work, it never ends. We are always hard on ourselves and we feel so overwhelmed by the deadlines and the worries that something bad will happen if we don’t try to get things done asap. 

And I said, “it (the work) can never be finished. Tomorrow if we die, someone else will take over the work. We are not indispensable.  We are only indispensable to our children.” 

I’ve never been clearer about my priority in my life. 

I was trying to slowly get her to wrap her head around the idea that if we let all the work and the other stresses affect our health. If anything bad happens to us, what will happen to our children? So take it easy, learn to let go and go with the flow at work. 

Whether anything I said got through, I  don’t know… but at that point, I felt like an wise old granny. And I wonder where the old me went.  

Thrown away with the placenta I suppose. 

The current me stood, staring at the sky, holding a chocolate chiffon cake I had bought for Little Foot. 

At that point, nothing could be clearer. Unspoken.

When you notice the difference, maybe you aren’t being around enough

alittlefootprint Leave a comment

This morning, knowing I was not going to be able to send Little Foot to school with Papa Long, I was extra diligent helping her get changed and ready for school.  Usually, Aunty does it while I get myself ready. 

And when I grabbed a rubber band to tie her hair into the coconut tree hairdo, I was suddenly aware that “hey! Little Foot’s hair has grown quite long!”

And then I note to myself, I haven’t done this for her for too long. Which is why I noticed the difference. 

It’s like how I carry her daily to the car, to the school….every chance I get.  I don’t really realise that she’s grown heavier.  My mother would however exclaim that she’s a big girl already! Whenever she gets to see her and carries her, which is very seldom. 

I don’t marvel at how steady she is at water painting, because I see her do it almost daily and I see how she had improved her grip and control bit by bit over time. 

I see her everyday and don’t realise she has lost a lot of her baby fats, until I see a photo of her half a year ago… 

And the list goes on. 

So parents, what difference did you notice in your child today? Maybe like me, you have delegated the mundane tasks like tying hair and brushing teeth to your helper. 

Are we doing enough for our Little One? Are we around enough? Or more pertinently, are we there in mind and body, or just there but not there? (Sitting around checking WhatsApp while the Little One is being fed by your helper? Guilty as charged some days…) 

Its a good reminder to myself. They are only babies and toddlers for awhile…. don’t wait till they are too old and suddenly too heavy before you realise that you’ve missed out a chunk of their childhood.

It’s ok when it doesn’t work out

alittlefootprint Leave a comment

Recently,we threw in the towel on Shichida Method classes.

I’m not going to say whether this is a good programme or not, because frankly, I think half a year wasn’t quite long enough for us to judge.

We just decided it wasn’t quite so suitable for Little Foot and we called it quits in Dec. Much to the relief of Papa Long, who usually attends the classes with her.

Why? We think it wasn’t the best programme for her, despite some of the rave reviews. She was simply not interested and hardly participated willingly unless there were songs involved. We think she needs more time and space to enjoy life, and well, frankly, the real reason? We too were getting burntout from waking up on a Saturday to run to class with her.

Some time ago, my colleagues gave me the “you kiasu mama!” look when I told them Little Foot has classes 7 days a week. So I explained, myself. She’s in childcare during weekdays, and we have a 1-hour Shichida lesson on Saturday mornings (signed up when she was 3 months old, but only enrolled when she was about 19 months after several admin hiccups on their end). And she has her favourite Kindermusik lessons on Sundays, which we actually stopped for awhile, but brought her back when we saw how her face would light up whenever she heard the music from those classes. She still enjoys them as much as she enjoys going to the playgrounds.

Eventually, Mummy and Papa burnt-out before the little lady did.

She had boundless energy, but she didn’t enjoy the way learning was conducted in the Shichida programme. We also didn’t like that while one parent went in and tried to learn the methods to replicate at home (which we hardly had time to, since she’s in school for a full day), the other (usually Mummy) was loitering at Toa Payoh Hub eating roti prata or kaya toast or ran around trying to do some errands to kill time in that hour.

On hindsight, as first time parents, we (mainly Mummy actually) was rather a tad too ambitious.

I wanted to give my daughter the gift of a photographic memory, a gift of being able to grasp things easily. Which should make learning a breeze. And I thought I got it right. Wrong.

The end came when I almost hyperventilated watching the flashcards when I sat in for one of the later classes (because there was a change of teacher). In my mind, I was asking myself, “what in the world am I doing to my 20+mth old baby?!”

There’s a full road ahead for learning. Why make a toddler sit in a class and get bombarded by flashcards and velcro-ed activities? If it created anxiety for me, what does it do for a toddler? No wonder she was always exhausted after that hour and would crash out, with a frown on her face in her sleep.

And so finally, I admitted, it was time to leave the stress to another time, I’ve had enough. Let’s go get some fresh air, go learn to live like a human being, look at the clouds and watch the planes fly by. Breath the air, and marvel at the stars. Visit a farm, feed some animals and plant some plants. 


No hard feelings to other Shichida parents. It works for you, it didn’t for us. And I think as adults, we should just admit it and cut losses when we realise something doesn’t quite seem to be a good fit.

For now, we will let the world be the weekend tutor, and just retain the fun music sessions for her.

Ice cream anyone?

My little big girl

alittlefootprint Leave a comment

Quick post before I go off to sleep. 

20 Dec 2016. Little Foot officially promoted to N1 class. No longer in the babies class. 

I have mixed feelings… so proud of her for all that she had achieved in the last 5 months since she enrolled in the school. A little sad that I sent a baby to school and find that she has morphed into a toddler who speaks in short complete sentences, insists on putting on her owj shoes, disallows everyone from taking what she deem not to be theirs, who quizzes me “is that Papa’s car?”, and who informs me with great character  (read big tantrums) if she is displeased.
She sings on the way to school a lot these days, even though she does the customary clingy baby moves once we alight from Papa’s car. 

More mixed feelings when I picked her up during my lunchtime to find smaller toddlers in their own clothing walking unsteadily /being carried out of the school by their parents/grandparents. The adults told me they were there for a trial class, guess they wanted to see if it was what they wanted. I’m reminded that her teachers are no longer the same. She is yet again thrown to the winds of change.  

I’m reminded repeatedly that Little Foot is no longer a baby. Not yet 25 months, but like it or not, she has to progress yearly with those born in the same year. Even if she could be 11 mths younger. Didn’t we just blow out the two candles on the cake a couple of weeks ago?

Dear Little Foot, I know you can hold your own in  a world where you will have to first play catch-up, but then things will even out with time. In a world where you will be thrown out of your comfort zone regularly. Strangers have marveled at how well you can speak… they can make out the songs you sing and figure out the consonants you are not able to pronounce yet. And you have shown me that you are a survivor many times over (I still recall how you replied me when I asked you if your classmate who suddenly turned into a biter managed to take a chomp at you and you replied me very matter of factly that “E beat T!” Oops, I guess you managed to fend your itchy gums friend off!). Your teachers too have told me how impressive you have been, catching up with your classmates.

Always  baby in my eyes… and still leaving me to wonder when the day will come when you stop needing me to fall asleep with you while you comfort latch.

Always my baby no matter how tall you have grown. 

Always a baby even if one day you no longer need me to carry you from the car to the class. 

Hope the new class will be as fun and exciting for you! Let’s stay positive! 

A photo taken over the weekend. A Cape for my little superheroine!

 

Waiting up for Mummy

alittlefootprint Leave a comment

​

This evening I went for my long overdue haircut and got home only at 10+pm. 
I thought Little Foot would already be in bed, so I didn’t hurry and even opened the letter box. I walked in, went to wash my hands in the kitchen. And when I walked out of the kitchen, a teary-eyed Little Foot trotted out from the bedroom and greeted me with a silent, imploring face. 
She touched my hair and said “Mummy cut hair”. 

Aunty Lily must have been telling her that Mummy went to cut hair to explain my absence. 

Her tears obviously meant she had enough of waiting for me to get home while she’s sleepy already. 

Oh, my heart pinched a little. 

So we spent time opening the packages from Book Depository  which included 2 children’s books. We read one of them.  

She wanted milk.  We spent a bit of time in bed together, but Little Foot didn’t want to wind down and sleep. 

She wanted to stay up longer with me to play. And so I piggybacked  her to the living room, watched her play and helped her with some of the lining up of Hello kitty toys. 

She counted 1 to 8 flawlessly (first time she did it for me!). 

She was yawning but still wanted to play. I indulged her. 

Finally she held my hands and walked us back to the bedroom, then nursed to sleep. 

Tonight, I’m acutely aware of how much she had grown. 

And I’m wistful. The latch-to-sleep days may well be over soon. 
Tonight I’m also painfully aware that come 2017, my coming home later (and not being able to pick her up from school) will become a regular occurrence.  

It saddened me. 

I can only pray that she will be understanding of the limited time I can give to her and hopefully, we can find a good balance somewhere.  
Work and family – Two words that co-exist awkwardly together for every working parent. Sometimes we want to have our cake and eat it, but with finite time and energy, the best bet is to find a balance…and have good support from family to fill in whenever we are absent. I hope that I will be able to find that balance and not lose this closeness with my Little Foot. Otherwise, everything we strive for will be pointless and meaningless pursuits.  

Thanks for waiting up for me, baby. 

Love you always. 

My little merlion… and the mother who is not in control

alittlefootprint 2 Comments

We had an eventful weekend… plenty of activities lined up for Little Foot. And four puke sessions. 

Unfortunately for our poor baby pie, she was bloated since Friday and ended up vomiting 3 times on Saturday and once on Sunday. 

Somehow beyond the projectile sessions, she seemed completely fine and was her usual active and inquisitive self.  

Merlion #1 – 7early8early

First thing in the morning, she asked for milk when she woke up late ( Yay! It’s public holiday so we get to sleep late!!). Shortly after finishing her 120ml, half of that came out onto the mattress.  

After bath, she was fine…and restless. So we went to view the slide a neighbour put up for sale and brought it home.  She had about 20 rounds on it immediately. 


Merlion #2 – most memorable award

After an outing to Punggol settlement and a play session at BFF’s  place, we headed out in 2 cars to Ikea Tampines. Little Foot had been drinking green tea from the Hello Kitty Bottle, when the car was reversing… she suddenly made that oh-so-familar  face. Next thing we knew… she created a projectile inside the car….complete mayhem! Papa hurriedly got to us and carried her out where she vomited more. The seat and carpet inside our swanky new car…and my pants were the collateral damage. So we managed to clean our crying toddler up first. And parked her in the car boot while we waited for my bro and family to swing back to his house to get me spare pants. And waited for Papa to get some water  to try to clean the car. Luckily she was happily self-entertained by the 2 plastic bottles. 


Merlion #3 – silent in her sleep

We gave her very light dinner at Ikea. And when she got home she went to sleep after a bath. In her sleep near midnight… she suddenly turned to her side and puked. Without warning! 

This time I’m so worried… really wondering what’s wrong with her tummy. Nevermind…  we went to sleep after washing her up. Its not like going to KKH to queue up would make her feel better.  Let her sleep. 

Merlion #4 – and we thought it was over

Sunday. Bright and early we went for a birthday party…  cheerful baby was all ready to play! I pretty much put Saturday’s vomit sessions behind me. 

The party  was good…she won herself a sticker tattoo at one of the party games, played a lot in Cool de sac and then ended with a nice stars body painting done.  


Went to my mum’s place with a balloon in her hand…. she had milk lying down on the bed together with Kylie. Done, got up and out to look for Papa… next thing I knew, I heard the shout that she’s puked again. 

Didn’t dare feed her dinner…. gave her a few mouthful of oats. And then I nursed her to sleep.  

What a weekend…. 

What didn’t help was all the “wise words”…

The Papa had to guilt trip me about her diet. Ya… my fault that no one cooked her lunch on Saturday before we went out. He had all these “don’t give her this…. don’t give her that”… but she had to eat something right??

My fault that we go to some eating place and there’s no healthy kids meal (name me a place that does). And she ends up eating the ice cream when I didn’t ask for a float. 

As to why even her daily home food is too flavourful and like adult food…  also my fault? Maybe I’ve left it too free rein? I don’t know when it started, but her food became like our food…. I didn’t say retire the blender. I didn’t say add salt or soy sauce….c’mon, I was the crazy OCD mama who didn’t want her to touch any sugar in her first year! Of course the food in school doesn’t really help too, since it’s quite tasty. Foodie Little Foot is starting to be fussy now about tastes…it has disturbed me a little but I’ve kept quiet after my “suggestions” don’t seem to register in anyone’s head. And frankly I’m too tired with work and giving her all my free time to be a hawk. Some days I give her the ice cream so it buys me time to eat my dinner, since no one wanna help me there.

I’m the mother…I think I’m entitled to offer her an ice cream or a pack of chocolate milk. Maybe that gave everyone else around me the wrong signals that they can do it freely too. I can’t control what I’m not around to control. Or maybe I’ve closed one eye for too long. 

And sometimes I wonder why nag at me only… he keeps quiet and not tell our helper himself if he’s not happy about how she handles certain things. 

So Little Foot will now need to go into “rehab” back to healthy baby food…. Oh yah, I say only lor… Will anyone listen?  He say lor…will he do the disciplining and get her to follow his dream regime? Or I’m just the person who gets drenched in puke, pat her back to sleep throughout fitful nights and still get to hear the incessant chants of “you let her eat this eat that….”, and the person who has to sort everything out.  Oh yah… me. Just me. 

Why? Because I’m the mother. And anything happens, it’s my fault by default. Nevermind that I feel the most heartache when I have to watch her in her fitful sleep the whole weekend and I didn’t even sleep well. That’s the way the world works. 

Sad that I feel like I’m not in control and yet I get to bear the brunt. 
I guess when the little one is sick… tempers fly and fingers are quick to point at each other. You judge me, I have many things to say about your behaviour too. And we can start this crazy war…but I’m tired and I really just want to sort this out. I want to sort out many things, yet I am a lone ranger here. Obviously when I have a toddler trying to get a go at me and yanking at my top while I try to eat some dinner tonight and the father just sits back and half-heartedly act like he’s even stopping her, I don’t feel like I’m getting much help here. And everyday it is the same….every meal of mine is spent fending off the little one. While everyone pretends they are temporarily deaf and blinded. Some days I want to smash my dinner plate really. Some days I wish I could just eat outside so my food can actually go down the right tunnels and not cause me to also want to throw up from gastric pain. 
Just for once, I wonder what really went wrong. Maybe my general uselessness domestically is the problem. Or maybe I don’t make myself clear enough. 

Times like this, I  try to find strength by focusing on my Little Foot. 

I can do better.  I must do better.  

Or at least die trying to do better.

What space?

alittlefootprint Leave a comment
A personal take on this unfortunate small spaces remark taken out of context. All sparked by the headline on ST’s article “You don’t need much space to have sex”. 
Granted, Mrs Teo had bravely soldiered on to clarify that her words were taken out of context (according to CNA article), but it has sparked a conversation, and a very important one, that is needed between the government and Singaporeans.
What Space? 
It was never about space for making the babies. It has always about the space to raise that baby. It is about providing a safe haven, a suitable environment for raising children the way we want it. Singaporeans have expectations, hopes and dreams. And we expect to be given that freewill to plan how they want life to pan out, what kind of standard of living and environment they would like to provide for our children. That’s what we studied hard, slogged hard for. We didn’t ask for matchbox size flats, but we have adapted to the reality that living spaces will shrink. So, even if matchbox size, we take it, because we want that space to start our own family and have a roof over our heads. Our own roof. Not our parents’.  We are Asians. Culturally, that roof over the head has always been very important to us, at least that’s what my parents have always said. As long as we have a roof over our heads, everything else can fall in place. 
 
In other countries, it is normal to have kids first (sometimes accidentally), then marry (or not). Do we want to go down that route to up the fertility rate? I think our society is not yet ready for the Brangelina arrangements (that is, prior to their marriage and now dramatic divorce). Pragmatic Singaporeans are not ready to live on love alone – not when a giving birth can cost nearly 10K or even more when things don’t go quite as planned, and that’s just the “start-up cost” to parenthood. Childcare, medical care, everything costs money. Singaporeans plan and plan, perhaps over-plan. I’d take this attitude over reckless one-night stands any day where you get knocked up, then you go home and ask your parents “How lidat? You can help me raise my child?” and expect to continue to lean on that support from our parents who have slogged half their lives away and burst their bubble of retiring and going backpacking around the world. 
 
Personally, we only started thinking if we should have a child after we have finally settled down in our own flat. We had lived apart for a year after marriage for a myriad of reasons. And it was only when things stabilised mentally, emotionally, financially, then we finally felt ready and confident that we can provide a good home for our child, then I started to even entertain the idea of being a parent. 
“Home” not “House”.  
Home is that place where make memories, where we get to decide how the sleeping arrangements will be, have our own cosy corners, babyproof it, and ensure it is a feasible place emotionally for the child. Our way. At our parents’ place, we wouldn’t be able to decide many things. Space is limited, you can’t tell the smoker not to smoke, can’t decide on whim to redecorate the spare room (what spare room?) etc. Living three generations together adds a layer of complexity in the family dynamics, sometimes adding stress, which may rub off on the kids.
Sure, there are pros to living with parents too… extra pair of hands and eyes, but we also need to understand that not all parents want to be that pair of hands and eyes. My mother quickly swatted off the idea of quitting her job to help any of us look after our children. Fair enough. Why should she? She too wants to look after her career, and not all grandparents are the “coochie coochie!” kind. She’s happy being a weekend grandmother.
I ramble, but put simply, living separately from my parents made relationship better and healthier. We see them every weekend, we call and Whatsapp regularly, share photos and nuggets of information. It’s all good. Let’s face it, they too deserve a break from us.
One can say “you can just make the baby first”, then everything else will fall in place. True, Mrs Teo’s got a point. Perhaps there lies in our society a growing population of people who want to do first think later, live the YOLO life. Not me. If you are, then good for you. Being responsible for another human life is a huge huge responsibility, and I’m not going to just say YOLO and do it. 
Yes, the clock continues to tick when we wait for the flat. For many like me who will lose sleep over this unstable/uncertain arrangement, we will say, “so be it”.
In the end, you can nudge, you can bait, you can try to influence, but it will always be a personal choice, how early/how late, how many kids to have, between the couple.
************
The arduous journey for a flat….
We balloted for flats since I was 27. From Blangah Heights to Senja in Bukit Panjang, to Punggol… even various sale of balance flats. Each time we would put the $10.70 and later be informed that we were unsuccessful, sometimes with a 4-digit queue number. I still remember how I cried in frustration when even Senja, so near my in-laws, was not successful (while 2 other friends of his balloted successfully). By the time we finally got to choose our flat through the DBSS route, it would be ready in our early 30s. Little Foot was born when I was 33, a year after we moved in.
It wasn’t even about the $10.70 each time… it was about the painful disappointment because you wonder why, you supposedly accumulated more chance with each unsuccessful attempt, and yet, you keep getting your hopes dashed. Eventually, we did think, we should go for resale or something else. Finally we got queue number 899 for the estate where we live now. That day of selection, was sweaty palms moment when we were waiting for those before us to select their units, holding hands and fervently going , “don’t choose that, don’t choose that!”
A long long journey to finally getting the key to our own home. Can you understand? That’s all we want really.
 

My little rainbow

alittlefootprint Leave a comment

“Lemme be your baby just a while longer, 

Let me be your rainbow at the end of a shower,

Just a little cuddle, 

Just another snuggle…

How I hope our lives will always be intertwined together.” 
Inspired by the Tula blanket I got customised by a nice work-at-home mum in Malaysia. 

Do support mummies who are juggling having a second career and taking care of their children.