What would I give, to watch you grow…

Today was playdate day!

It’s been a long long time since we caught up with our mummy group, although not everyone could make it (we missed those who couldn’t be there today!)

Little Foot had fun, and what a show-off she was when Mimi Cat made a guest appearance! (we arranged for my Aunt to bring her very tame ragdoll to the playdate for a cat immersion session as my Aunt lived just downstairs from the mummy host).

Our little lady jauntily went over and sayanged Mimi cat the moment the cat arrived. Haha… she felt the need to stake ownership (“this cat is my friend!”).

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As I watched her play and interact with Mimi and the other toddlers – busying herself shifting toys around, I caught moments of her giving give hearty laughs (covering her mouth) whenever the adults guffawed at something funny in our adult conversations – I told myself, I really wouldn’t give this up for anything in the world.

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Watching Little Foot grow, chronicling her milestones has brought me a lot of joy… even if it really meant I am going to be sleep deprived for a long long time. Even if it meant my progression career-wise may have slowed down.

Her ” ha ha ha!” really works like vitamins for me, and it knocked sense into me. THIS is what is important.

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I wouldn’t miss this for the world.

Baby, you have made me laugh my loudest laughs, cry my most heart-aching cries. Because of you, because you are with me, because you are ours, I can feel I am truly alive, and living a life beyond work work work, shop shop shop, party party party.

As always, thanks for being our baby 🙂

And I thank Papa Long,  for teaching her to be this animal-loving and “steady” baby who loves the animals and the outdoors. Yup, ‘cos Papa was a Kampung Kia and he hopes she will inherit his love for being on the wild side.

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Here’s a photo of Little Foot happily stroking a friendly shih tsu in the neighbourhood yesterday evening.

First day in school… a new chapter begins

Today Little Foot formally walked through the doors of Singapore’s education system for the first time.

I half expected tears, meltdowns and panic attacks from her, but I have to say she gave us a real easy time today.

So we did a half – day today at the school. Observed the teachers and the class. Papa Long and I tried our best not to intervene or go to Little Foot’s rescue too much. She did well mostly, even for the part when I decided that Papa and I  should exit the room. It was fruits time, and she was pacified by the rock melon treat.

I also braced myself for my personal meltdown (like maybe tear or cry secretly on Papa Long’s shoulder).

Haha, didn’t happen! I am quite relieved that she seemed to like the place, especially the indoor gym the the school has, and the teachers are quite kind, helping her along, teaching her the “rules” patiently.

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NOW as I sit in a cafe alone winding down for awhile (she’s at home napping) I look back and think of the little baby girl who made me so worried during her early days, yet she had always been a brave one, not a namby pampy whiny kind of child.

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I hope you adjust well my Little Foot. Sending you to school is because we love you and want to pave a smoother road ahead for you… not because we have grown tired of you and want to offload you. And we hope you will have fun in the process.

Thanks for being brave and fearless. Thanks for making it easy for Mummy today. I promise that as you enter the education system, I will refrain from caving into the pressures around us. Grow and learn well, my baby, and most of all, learn good values, positivism and be kind to others.

Happy first day of school my baby pie 🙂

XOXO,
Mummy

What were you doing on 23 Nov 2015, the day the poor 2-year-old finally closed his eyes for the final time?

Seldom does a news article make me cry streams of tears. This ST article did.

As I read the horrorific account of two-year-old Mohamad Daniel Mohamad Nasser’s ordeal, what he had been put through until he finally closed his eyes on 23 Nov 2015 and gave up life, I cried so badly. As I write this, there is a sad pain deep inside me, and a lump in my throat.

Two years old. That’s 24 months young. Kicked, punched, systematically tortured over 5 weeks by two crazy, sadistic monsters, one of which is his own mother.

Halfway through the article, I hugged my Little Foot who was sleeping soundly and cried.

We’ve had such a happy cosy life together over the past 18 months, that I cannnot imagine that while we were happily going about our lives, someone not so far away was probably crying in vain for help, slowly dying.

23 Nov 2015.

According to Facebook, I had come home to hug my Little Foot happily after work.

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The day before, on 22 Nov 2015, we were home after our Punggol Waterway stroll and playing at home. Papa had set up a new toy walker for Little Foot. In the meantime, somewhere in that one-room flat Daniel was nearing his death, forced fed dried chilli, kicked and slapped…head hit the ground. His little body exhausted, badly beaten, his heart, soul and body broken. He closed his eyes.

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It is when you look at that point in time what you were doing while a little boy not too far away was suffering and dying, and knowing that till the last breath, he was denied the love every child deserved from their own parents, that his short life was filled with cries and not laughter, that he died broken-hearted that it really hit home so hard.

It’s like someone punched me in the stomach.

At this point, in the dead of the night, I started to question my own faith.

God, why did this happen?

Why Father, why was such a woman blessed with so many children, while many others wait in vain for a little one to have, to hold, to shower with love?

Why was a little boy brought into this world to suffer so helplessly and die such a painful death? And he died heartbroken, unloved.

She killed her own child slowly and painfully. As a mother, it really ached my heart so badly. Even if life was hard, why take it out on your child? Why have him in the first place?

As a society, could we have done more? Could we have done differently? Could we have saved Daniel the pain and the eventual death?

As we go about our ordinary, lives as average Singaporeans, happy to go about our own business, could we have done more for children born in such environment?

And our laws, I am not legally trained… but I do wonder why a 5-week campaign of abuse that culminated in death was not considered murder.

In the end, all that we say is just empty echoes in the night… all the “what ifs” left unanswered. Because Daniel is dead.

Dear Daniel, 

I have not known you, but my prayers are for you tonight… may you rest in peace in heaven, home by God’s side, safe in His arms. No more pain, no more sufferings, no more tears. God loves you, even if on this earth, you never felt any love. Rest in peace baby boy. Rest well. 

 

 

 

 

Eve of school…

Last day before Little Foot goes to school. 

Last day of morning trips to the playground with the swing for her.

Last day of carefree life.

By chance, I had time to have a lunch date with her today.

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Mummy having mixed feelings. Are we ready for school? Her gear are almost all ready, but my heart isn’t.

I look at the little baby self-feeding sushi to herself and I feel like my heart is so heavy and I’m about to burst into a puddle.

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Little Foot doesn’t seem to know what is coming although I have repeatedly told her that she’s going to school.

School is too abstract a concept for her.

I hope I don’t get all cold feet and pull her out of school tomorrow. Really need to psych myself.

On a happier note, we had fun at lunch. She really ate a lot – rice salmon, chawanmushi and tamago. All the things she liked. It reminds me of my first week back at work, when helper brought her to meet me for lunch. We also ate Japanese food. 

Before kissing goodbye (Yes,  she’s more amenable to kissing me these days!) She managed to make me buy 2 balloons for her. 1 is not enough for our “babom” lover ☺ oh my dearest Baby, seeing your joy today makes it even harder for me to pack you off to school…

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Let’s be brave. Mummy love you.

The crossover to Toddlerhood

This week, Little Foot turned 18 months. Officially according to the authorities (ECDA specifically), this means she’s no longer an infant.

As the curtains come down on our infant journey with our firstborn,  Papa Long and I have been randomly looking at old photos and video clips of Little Foot’s growth….

from the little blinking bean in my tummy whom we would see on the ultrasound machines

… to finally meeting you for the first time

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…. the baby I proudly carried in one arm, football style, and walked out of KKH…

… to the teeny weeny but very observant baby who woke and fussed for milk evry 2 hours

… to the baby who gave me courage enough to venture out with her in carrier, all the time hugging me tight or giving me deep knowing gazing (as if  telling me, “Mummy, I trust you. Trust yourself too”)

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… to the bloated baby who bravely battled colic and never lost her faith in me even as I despaired and got angry with myself

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… to the little “Flower legs” who cafe-hopped and travelled with us.

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… to the foodie that struggles to get her hands on everything that we are eating

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… to the little bouncy biter in the exersaucer

… to the tetrapak-chewing baby who rejected teethers

… to the gleeful girl who zipped around the house in the walker

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… to the cheeky baby who learnt to play peekaboo back at us

… to the book chomper turned book flipper

… to the baby who loved bubbles and balloons and refer to them as “Babom Babom! ”

… to the swing – loving baby who impressed all the strangers with “Look! That baby is swinging!”

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… to the little apprehensive swimmer

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… to the youtube and BabyTV fan

… to the baby who proudly walked around pushing chairs and baskets

… to the baby who loved balls

Slowly and steadily, she has grown and sprouted without us really realising that the metamorphosis had happened. 

There are days when I marvel at her witty and charming ways and days that I am caught in situations where I don’t quite know how to deal with the tantrums and stubbornness.

Welcome to Toddlerhood, Yes?  🙂

Dear Little Foot,

Life is busy because you are around. You fill up the hours so quickly when we are engrossed with being with you. Days turn to weeks, and weeks turned to months as I hurry along each day to get work done and get home to you, and we countdown to weekends so that we can be plastered together for 2 whole days.

And here we are, at this major milestone. 

Next week you will go to school.

It will be where you meet your first friends and teachers. It will be where you realise that there are more people to hold dear than these three people whom your life has revolved around for the past 18 months.

I hope school will be fun for you… I hope that you will still retain your sense of adventure even as we place you into a system that may try to mold you while it tries to help you reach for the stars.

I fear. I fear that the system may mold you into something you are intrinsically not.

I fear. I fear that the system may lead you away from what you love to do, to what the system would like you to love to do.

I fear. I fear that I may resent how the world may show you that you are not special, but I know I have to let the world teach you that the Sun and Moon doesn’t revolve around you.

As your parents, we can only keep reminding ourselves not to get lost and blinded by the “competition” in the system…  to place your happiness and welfare at the centre of it all… to guide you to be the best that you can be, to love God, to love life, to be kind to others, to celebrate simplicity….to help you reach a purposeful life. I use purposeful, not successful.  That I feel is how one should live….. yet these are early days,  I just pray not to get too caught up in the race.

My dearest Baby Pie… I am grateful you continue to have complete faith in us, knowing we will catch you or pick up when you fall. I am grateful that you still get upset when I leave you for work each morning. I am grateful that you still exclaim in sheer delight whenever we appear at the front door after a day at work.

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I hope you will always know that we are here for you with open arms and open hearts.

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Happy and Blessed 18 months my dearest only child. It’s been a fulfilling journey being your parents. May you always find joy in simple things and enjoy good health too. May you never lose faith in yourself, us and God. May you always carry your tenacity and that happy smile with you in life.

Remember, we will always be here to hold you, to catch you if you ever do trip up. Have no fear and soar like the Eagle, up up in the sky!

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We love you forever and always. Thank you for making us your Mummy and  Daddy…. you were the most perfect in our eyes from the first time we met.

5 Tips to raising a bookworm baby!

I come from a family of bookworms. 
From the day we could make sense of words and sentences in books, my siblings and I, we would read everywhere. Yes, everywhere – from the bed (very bad for the eyes I know) to the dining table to the sofa, and one even reads in the loo! 
Every new Harry Potter book release, you would see the book inserted with several bookmarks, and the situation of one of us trying to pry the book from the other with “eh… my turn already lehhh…”, and tantrums flying.
This love of books, I think we owe it to my eldest sister. As younger siblings, we emulated her. As to why she loved books, we didn’t quite know how it started, but boy, did she read a lot and very fast!
My parents don’t read, but we have an uncle who was a teacher, and I think it was he who gifted my sister books by the sets (like a complete set of ladybird books, a complete set of Hans Christian Andersen books in big prints). And we had another uncle who used to own a business selling Encyclopedias (thick and heavy physical books before the time of computers, Google and Wikipedia). So that set a nice tone to kick-start a lifetime love for books.
I carried this love into adulthood, from history to philosophy (Ok, I tried and these really gave me a headache), to biographies, to fiction books (thrillers and chick lit), I read leisurely. Every holiday trip would see me pack a few books for the flight. I read “Marley and Me” and “P.S. I Love You” first before the movies were even released, and I cried reading them. Words brought me into a whole new different worlds, set my imagination alive (I am reminded of Enid Blyton’s “The Magic Faraway Tree”), taught me experiences and live values through people and the characters in the books.
I wanted my Little Foot to fall in love with books too, and open the windows into all these other worlds and perspectives out there. In this digital age, introducing books are a lot more challenging than during my childhood days. Toys sing, books sing too, there’s YouTube and there’s TV. Boring old books are just not as attractive comparatively.
Despite all these, I think we are making good headway, and these are some of the things I have done to inculcate the love for books and reading. I’m not sure if it will be a lifelong love for her, but at least, I think I’m trying and making good progress.

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1) Fill the house with books

I have been buying many many books for Little Foot. I Make the house a place where books can be found anywhere and everywhere, pulling books randomly to read a page or two to her, since she was newborn.
I recall how I frantically waved the Black/White/Red Picture book in her face when she was a few weeks old (because in my post-natal madness, I had this crazy thought that maybe she can’t see).

I recall all the board books that she would grab over from me and take a few chomp on. I recall her chewing off one corner of a flashcard.

I recall the first time I was over the moon because she sit there and listened attentively when I read “Sneezy Wheezy Mr Shark” to her. That was the first book she allowed me to read finish and laughed happily along each time Mr Shark sneezed (the book has a hand puppet attached to it).

There are three places I get most of the books for Little Foot from:

  1. My Greatest Child located at City Square Mall, and a new outlet recently opened NEX Serangoon. They also regularly hold roadshows at Safra clubs. Follow them on Facebook for the updates on roadshows.
  2. Book Depository  is the best for the busy parent, and carries all kinds of books for adults and children. Browse the site, pay by Paypal and get the books delivered to your door, I find this the most fuss-free, and the prices are reasonable. It is also the best if there is a particular book you wish to buy and can’t find in a brick and mortar shop.
  3. Popular Bookstore, the homegrown haven of assessment books. Everyone knows this one, since this is the go-to for our schoolbooks since the 80s. Baby books are not organised well, but sometimes you could find some treasures if you dig around. I like that they carry a wide range of Chinese books, and there are so many outlets in the heartlands.

2) Make reading a regular affair and read with your child

Don’t just cart out the books from the storeroom when you think “it’s reading time” after weeks or months have passed. In order to make reading regular and a normal activity, it again points back to my first point, make books readily available around the house. You and baby can take turns to choose the books, and vary the books.
I am still trying to make it some sort of daily routine, but as a forgetful and very random/spontaneous person, this is not second nature to me. So I am still very much the “Oh, here’s a book, do you wanna read?” kind of random parent.
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3) Create a reading space

I read from this a Mindchamps Article about creating a comfortable reading space for the kids. Agree, agree, and agree. I used to lie on my bed and read using a bedside lamp. That was the reading space I created for myself.
For Little Foot, I hope to instill better reading habits. A couch or a beanbag in a cosy corner with good reading lights. That will be on our to-do list when we spruce up our living space next.
For now, we usually read with her sitting on my lap with my arms around her on the playmat or on the couch. She likes that she’s spending time being plastered to me. In essence, I let her feel that it is a safe and enjoyable haven.

4) Don’t force it

I observed that there are some things that Little Foot likes to do more on certain days. “mood for books” day is not everyday.
Babies and kids, just like adults have moods too.There are days when our little ones are not in the mood to read. They could be in the mood for running around that day, or in the mood to sing and dance to baby music, rather than sit down with a stack of books. Read their cues. 
I celebrate each time I catch Little Foot in her “mood for books” day. On days which she’s not interested and I find myself reading to the furniture in the room halfway, I try not to beat myself up about it, or worse, get exasperated. We can try again tomorrow. After all, I’m the “tik kee” (steel-teethed) child who likes to purposely sing the opposite tune and refuse to do things that I am forced to do, so I expect my Little Foot to be like that too.

5) Visit bookshops and libraries together

Don’t just go to the shops and grab the books on your own. Make it an outing with the little one. I sort of let Little Foot choose the books. For instance, at the stores, she would pull at books and I would ask her “You like this one? Mummy buy?” or I would offer her two or three options and ask her to choose. I do the same at the toy stores, so she would associate that these for her, not for Mummy.
I have been meaning to visit the library with her, just haven’t got round to it, but I do believe, that a visit to the libraries would be beneficial, especially now that she is older. My only concern was that she used to chew on books and I am not quite sure the books, meant for everyone, are safe from her jaws (and also if they are safe for her to chew, having gone through many hands).

After note: It is okay to be a late bloomer

I know, I am one.
I recall how my mum wanted to strangle me (figure of speech) while I struggled to read “The Ugly Duckling” at five years old. I resorted to parroting the first pages word-for-word from what she narrated, and of course, got caught in the process when I got stuck on the pages she had yet to read out to me. It was stressful for me when the alphabets didn’t string up to words, and words didn’t string up to sentences at that age. It was stressful that there was expectations set for me that I couldn’t meet. I was an expert at mimicking and parroting, but I just couldn’t read, and I would write my alphabets in mirror image sometimes. It was an uphill task of learning for me in my early years (back then, no one would ask if you were dyslexic… maybe I was?  Who knows…)
It was only at eight years old that I started reading. I had pulled a Ladybird book off the massive shelves in my house one random day, wondering if I could ever be able to read like my sister. That moment, the words strung up, and the stories flowed off the pages, I never looked back. I finished all the ladybird books in the next few days, moved to the Enid Blyton books, then Roald Dahl, then to the thicker books that were on the shelves. 
So never put the child down if he/she doesn’t show any interest in reading. Sometimes, it just isn’t the season for books yet. The idea is to create easy access to books, and set a good example.
These days, Little Foot randomly flips a book called “Super Baby Food” before bedtime as it is on the bedside table, as I’ve been randomly flipping through the book to read on what are suitable food for her age and to get ideas on what to feed her next.
P.S. Did you know there is a National Reading Movement? National Reading Day is on 30th July.
P.P.S. I will be reviewing some interesting books for kids in the coming months. Stay tuned! 

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Bento Fun!

I had, on a whim, signed us up for a Winnie the Pooh Bento making session, conducted by Little Miss Bento.

With much groaning this morning, we dragged ourselves out of bed, waved goodbye to Little Foot, and trotted off to take a bus to the class (our dear old car broke down and is in the workshop).

Along the way, we joked about how long it had been since we held hands and swinged them while we walked,  and how we couldn’t remember the last time we took a bus together. (Yeah yeah, I know, first world problems… we’re such spoilt pple…)

Anyway, we had fun learning how to colour the rice, making the shapes for the characters, and cutting the seaweed for the eyes and brows. At one point, Papa Long lost Winnie’s eyebrows… and I was trying to reduce the size of Piglet’s nose until I felt a little cross-eyed.

It was a refreshing kind of different Sunday for us…. more importantly, we got “we time” together.

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And then we made it up to Little Foot for going missing on Sunday Morning by presenting to her the bentos.  Of course, some parts were not suitable for her to consume (e.g fried chicken and ham), so we removed those.

Maybe one day when Little Foot is older and needs to bring lunchbox to school, Papa and I will find time to make such cute bentos for her, but I’m quite excited by the whole thing, so I hope to try making more when I find time.

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Of working mothers and our unnecessary guilt

…don’t think of working mothers as people who just leave office on time and do less than you. Think of us as people who have to try to do 48 hours of work in 24 hours.

It’s been half a year since I returned to work. As I gear up at work (not really by choice, but one should always have an honourable sense of responsibility), I find that I’m stretched thin when I try to be my best at home and at work.

It’s not just the past two weeks, but it’s a nagging guilt that I suppose every working mother carries.

I think I give myself a hard time too much and too unnecessarily.

I feel bad when I am home later than usual.

I feel bad saying goodbye every morning when Little Foot would sputter and burst into tears, try to reach for me, try to stop me from leaving.

I feel bad when I go do ” me things” like get a haircut after work instead of running straight home.

Heck, I feel bad even about slowly sauntering home instead of brisk walking home from the train station!

Imagine how bad I felt when I had to pry myself from her on Sunday morning while she was kicking up an epic tantrum,  because I have to go be somewhere for work.

Some days I wonder if I’m the only mum in this world that beat myself over every second not given to my daughter.  Maybe not.

As I grapple with my feelings and try to continue to keep work and life separate, I sometimes pause to ask myself “why am I making things so hard for myself?”

And I would remind myself that it’s ok to have “me time” it is ok to still want to excel beyond motherhood. Otherwise,  there is no me left. I cannot simply be Little Foot’s mummy without also living for myself. My hopes, my aspirations,  my needs and wants, they still matter.

To the other folks out there… don’t think of working mothers as people who just leave office on time and do less than you. Think of us as people who have to try to do 48 hours of work in 24 hours. We juggle, we struggle…sometimes we look like we aren’t putting in as much as you.  I beg to differ if you think that way. We are just forced to become more effective and efficient. The work of a mother never ends. At 1am, we may be dealing with a kid awakened by nightmare. At 3am we could be dealing with a dirtied bed because baby puked… we have teething and fevers, flu and vaccinations to deal with. These things don’t make appointments with you. They happen whether a mother likes it or not.

AND we still reply the Whatsapp messages related to work at night, or boot up the laptop at odd hours to get some work done after the baby is asleep.

AND we still turn up for work the next morning (after dealing with a whole set of morning routine with the kid), grab a caffeine fix, and proceed to try to meet whatever deadlines we have, and look sharp at meetings. We would like to dream of our beds, but we don’t.  We tell ourselves not to waste time thinking about the bed. Because then the unnecessary guilt kicks in and we say “Hurry up,  get the work done. Baby’s waiting”.

We don’t bring our moods to work. Because moods and tantrums makes us less effective at work. And we know, we know there is always that one unmarried/childless colleague or boss who is lurking in the corner, waiting to see us trip up and think, “see, these mummies… they aren’t as committed, they aren’t as good….”. So we try harder than anyone else to be professional, because the odds are not in our favour.

Of course, there may be some working mothers who really don’t commit as much as the bare minimum,  those are not the ones I speak for… I speak for those who are like me, trying to be the best on all fronts and always guilt-tripping ourselves unnecessarily all the time because, really we wish we could do more on all fronts. We’ve given up gym and spas and “chill out after work” sessions with colleagues, all so that we can give more to work and home. Think of us while you chill. Have a beer in our honour.

The road ahead as a working mother is long… somehow, I know things will pan out fine. Because when in doubt, I come home to hug my baby and let her smiles wash all my worries and fears away.

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Every morning, Little Foot waves goodbye to me tearfully. A shot taken from the lift landing that peers into my balcony.

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Some days, I miss the old life

There are pockets of moments some days, where I reminisce about the days before Little Foot came into our lives, especially poignant are the little bits of times that I manage to grab a cider and sit in my balcony. Or just sit in my balcony.

I know many parents are afraid to voice the inner thoughts when they miss the good old times when your designer house looked worthy of a magazine shoot, when there were no invasion of playmat,  high chair, walkers, cardboard books and baby toys everywhere. When you didn’t have a little person who demands to be with you everywhere, even in the bathroom. When sleep is disturbed. When you badly need to pee, but your dearest daughter demands to finish her exploring at the playground, when all you want I’d to sit down and eat, but baby just pooped or needs to be fed. The list goes on.

I think it is ok to admit it. We are humans afterall, and my 16 month old with her boundless energy, and feisty temperament can sometimes make us feel just a tad too exhausted.

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I’m hiding in my balcony as I write…

Yet, if asked, do I want that life back?  my answer is “No”….not even at my most tired moments, not even when she’s testing my patience to the max.  Life without Little Foot would lack flavour, excitement. It would lack meaning.

So yes, it’s ok to say, let me take a break with my beers in the balcony for awhile”, and recharge.

After that,  we are back to being plastered together… loving the clingy moments.

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Love needs absence sometimes.  Just don’t take too long 🙂

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Reflections of my short stint alone with Little Foot

Tonight,  I ended my stay at home week with Little Foot aptly by eating the leftover mee sua that I cooked for her dinner.

I reflected on the past 6 days over the Al Dante soggy mee sua  (which I must say tasted quite good).

First, a pat on the back for me.

Our initial plans to go to JB for a short getaway together fell apart when Papa Long had to cancel his leave.

So our plans flopped.

I then set a fewagendas” — bring her to an indoor playground, to the library, and maybe for a shopping session in orchard. None of the above happened. My back had to choose to scream in pain late last week too, with the aches shooting to the back of my knees. Bad timing. So we stayed home, even though it got better after acupuncture on Tuesday, the only day Papa was able to take leave.

And so we went into the routine we knew best from our good old times – direct & comfort latching on demand. Probably the last time I will be able to use this weapon for a sahm stint as she is now nearly 16 months old.

Looking back, I think I did well because I randomly introduced new play ideas to her on whim. They were all just things that happened on the spot.

Fun with the magic mop happened because she wanted to play in the balcony and I wanted to make sure it was clean (especially since it’s been hazy). Playtime happened when she grabbed the mop from me.

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Ransacking the storage boxes filled with supplies of baby food is another funny thing she seemed to enjoy. Just nice that this spot is in full view of geh bathroom, so she would keep busy throwing stuff out of the box while I prepared her bath.

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The fun part of this room is that it also holds my extensive collection of scrapbooking materials. So of cos I thought,  it’d be fun to let her try some colouring. She had fun throwing the pencils around and poking the paper with them.

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One of my favourite moments was her discovering magnets. She spent a good hour playing with them, I had time to grab my morning drink and do some washing.

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And the next day, she upgraded to pushing the ikea stool, which she placed the magnets on, around the house.

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After she got tired of magnets, on Friday, we were back in the balcony playing again and she wanted to peel off the mosquito patches I stuck on the balcony door (a habit I had since I felt it was a waste to throw them immediately after a one – time trip to the playground).  I didn’t think it was a good idea to play with the citronella – soaked stickers, so I dug into my treasure trove and pulled out this pack of stickers. Oh… the amount of time she spent concentrating on getting the hang of peeling, sticking, transferring them. Good for training dexterity!

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These kiddy sunglasses amused her quite a bit too!

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Of course, she played with her truckload of toys too. . And other random stuff in the house

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But in the end,  the most time – consuming activity was eating.

Thankfully, our baby is a born foodie… I feel like she needs a master chef in the house, not mummy who cannot cook properly. .. but I tried my best to be creative and vary the dishes.

Like the egg, cheese and broccoli omelette that I conjured up and the potato and carrot (turned out they were sweet potatoes?!!) pan fried with tomato sauce and olive oil, and today’s vehicles pasta (cheated using prego sauce) with minced pork.

She also had the usual steamed cod with carrots and rice, beehoon soup with baby kailan and threadfin,  mee sua with spinach and cod fish (aka boring baby food). We also had yogurt, cereals, puffs and food pouches. My most outrageous moment was sharing my char siew rice with her (being mindful to avoid the oily and sauce – covered parts).

When the weekend finally arrived,  Little Foot got her first kid’s meal order for herself (I’m not counting the McDonald’s party happy meal since she didn’t eat the nuggets). Mini pancakes with blueberries and cream cheese. Sounds yummy, but she decided she wanted my sweet potato fries instead.

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The biggest achievements this week has gotta be Little Foot mastering feeding herself with a spoon on Friday, and able to walk about 10 steps or more without support tonight.

With the spoon,  it was actually a bo bian situation.  She would snatch the spoon from me when I feed her during meal times, so I gave it to her and got a second spoon. Guess what? She took it too! Initially, she couldn’t hold the spoon facing the right way up, so a lot ended on the chair and floor…. by Friday evening,  she knew how to adjust the spoon and aim the food into her mouth! The mess was almost confined to the tray! So proud of her!

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As for the walking, I know she has been practising hard lately, but she was always afraid to let go.  So we spent much of our times walking with her holding onto something or my hand. Including over and hour at the playground with her refusing to be carried and refusing to leave. I had to trot around with her surveying the nooks and crannies of the small kids playground (my back is cringing at the memory).

 

Last night, sleepless, she wanted to go walk the corridor. We end up playing by having her walk from Papa to Me and back again to Papa. She was so full of glee whenever she fell into the safety of our arms. My heart was filled with happiness whenever she hugged me and rested her head on my arm. Today at my mum’s place we pulled the distance further and she would squeal and giggle in excitement walking to and fro.

And then night came. .. dinner was over, yet she was restless. 9pm, she crawled out of our bed and insisted on leading me back to the living room.  “Mummum!” She pulled at the load of bread on the dining table.  Ok, I opened it… she played with 1 slice, past back to me.  I decided to get a slice of cheese and added another slice of bread. It was more for myself but I offered her the bread. Little did I know, she would claim it as her own. Lolz…

The interesting part was when she kept standing and walking while holding onto the bread and cheese for dear life and eating away at it. She seemed to have forgotten her apprehension about walking and covered.quite a distance from the playmat to the dining bench.

Oh my Little Foot,  you really thrive on food! With the bread, you found courage!

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Oh yes, and she’s had her first shower time in the bathroom outside of the bathtub… Stood for awhile,  then sat on the bathroom floor and poured water over herself with the water scoop.

So much done in this short time together… I feel a sense of achievement that I somehow managed to make good use of the time we had together. How life pans out sometimes.  It was supposed to be Papa’s stay at home dad stint, but circumstances gave me the opportunity to bond with our precious little girl. I wonder how it would be if he had stayed home this week instead of me.

This time is so different from last September.  In a way it is more difficult and easier all at the same time… maybe because she can keep occupied with a certain activity for a period of time, which give me chance to sit down and breathe, but her mobility makes challenging to constantly keep and eye on her. And she doesn’t want to be in the walker, stroller or baby carriers anymore (hopefully a passing phase while she’s learning to walk). Definitely a demanding boss here!.

As with the last stint, my meals are simple affairs, sometimes I forgot to eat till it’s past normal lunch time. I couldn’t be bothered with my hair or putting cream on my face.  As long as I brushed my teeth, washed my hands and showered. A part of me learned to let go and say “it’s ok”… esp with the food pouches and missed naps and bedtimes.

Little Foot will turn 16 months in 3 days’ time… no longer a baby, ready to walk and see the world.

I guess I can conclude by saying “We made it!”

Good night my sweetie 贝贝. Sleep tight. XOXO

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P.S. I really loved that incidental tune you played out today on the keyboard. Almost a twinkle twinkle there!

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