Dwindling photos

Because I’m at work for the better part of the times that Little Foot is awake, I find that the number of photos capturing her moments, the number of wefies and random shots have dwindled to a handful, sometimes not even one photo a day on week days. 

I feel sad.

Little Foot, am I missing anything while I’m at work?

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Playtime with Papa yesterday just before bedtime

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Playtime with mummy this evening.

We have a baby cam which I got Papa Long to place in front of her playmat in the house. Watching her playing or zooming past in her walker helps me manage my feelings when I miss my little girl.

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Thank God for technology, but I do miss those sahm days when I could keep snapping photos, watch her play, read her a book and guide her along with whatever she was trying to do.

Still, I take heart that she is in good hands.

I tell myself, chin up…there’s always weekends and lunch dates.

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The man in her life

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In my last blog post,  I shared that this photo taken at Little Foot’s first birthday party meant a lot to me.

I didn’t elaborate why, but today I felt I should revisit this photo.

Growing up, I didn’t really experience this. Being a typical chinese family, fathers in those days hardly saw it as their duty to be carrying baby, changing nappies, burping babies. Kids were probably a byproduct of marriage. My father was present but absent in the better part of my growing up life. He was the one who would give pocket money, the one who drove us to school. That was about it. We only sat down for dinners together on occasions.

Growing up on a family of five kids meant that our parents’ attention would be divided… and they were busy making ends meet. Their marriage also had its ups and downs.

Growing up, I often felt a tinge of deep sadness when I see fathers carrying their children,  holding their hands, sharing a conversation,  having fun.  The last time my dad carried me was when I was nine years old. I almost fainted in Chinatown during the festive season. So he carried me out of the crowds. That was the last time. At my wedding, it was awkward to hug him. We had so many missed opportunities over the years that could have made us closer as father and daughter… time could not be turned back.

Today, when I was out for lunch, I saw a man carrying his son, and the boy protested saying “but I’m not a baby!” I wish I could tell the boy, “lucky you…”

Which is why I revisited this photo.  It carried what I really hope for my daughter to have – a father that will be completely involved in her growing up years. A relationship with us that is without invisible walls.

I didn’t want to have children because I couldn’t be sure I could be a good parent, or that the family we gave you will always be a happy one, and your childhood would be without worries. I didn’t want you to have a childhood like mine, where your parents were never in the crowd when your band performed, when you wondered why yours was the only family that didn’t have dinners daily together, or even travelled together. 

The family I grew up in gave me a great relationship with my siblings, making up for the absence of our parents’ outward expression of love. In their own ways, I’m sure they did and still do care. Just not as visible as others.

Little Foot, I’m happy your Papa had been so hands on…. he wanted you so much before I could even imagine being a mother. And he has walked the talk to date. I hope he will always be the involved papa, your first hero, your first idol.

This photo has washed away any doubts and fears that I may have had. Not a perfect papa,  but the best that he can be.

I couldn’t have asked for more. 

Photo credit: Matthew Photography

Happy Labour Day to me

This time last year,  I was getting ready to be wheeled into the operating theatre after we induced but failed to dilate far enough for baby to be delivered naturally. 12 hours of contractions under epidural, baby heart beat dropped once throughout the process, and I was running a temperature.

I just wanted to get her out asap so that she is well and safe.

Today, she’s lying here beside me in bed, asleep after a long day.

Happy Labour day to me & happy birthday to my Little Foot.

It was all worth it.

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A preview photo from today’s party spoke a thousand words. The two most important people in my life, you both complete me. And thank you Little Foot,  for bringing out this loving side of your Daddy.

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Still amazed at how much you have grown!

Last week of babyhood

This weekend,  Little Foot will turn One.

The turning point where she officially becomes a toddler and leaves babyhood behind. Bittersweet feeling for Mummy.

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We spent the last weekend battling fever with her… and then this week finishing up the preparations for the big party. Today we also celebrated papa Long’s birthday. I hardly had time to reflect.

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I still remember the first remarks from Dr Teo when she was pulled out from my tummy (since it was a Caesarean delivery) – “Joy, your baby girl is very calm”.

I remember lying there on that cold operating table missing my husband while I waited for the nurses to clean her up and show her to me. I could hear them counting her fingers and toes.

And then they finally brought her to my side and our cheeks touched, and I said “Hello, baby” that feeling of so much relief, so much happiness, so much sadness (that Papa Long couldn’t be there with us)…it was all so overwhelming. I will always remember that. And it always brings me to tears.

And from there, we started this amazing journey called Parenthood. I’d be lying blatantly if I said it was all so blissful and happy. I can’t explain, but it’s all still so amazing to me, even with pain and tears in the package.

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There were all the milk woes at the beginning. Too little milk…engorgement… rejected direct latching after milk bottles were introduced… rejected milk bottles at 40 days old… pumps don’t work…. bloatedness from formula milk.

Then there was the colic nightmare that turned our angelic, calm baby into a bloated baby that refused to be put down.

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And then the constipation when we started weaning, followed by stomach flu… some days I worried so much for you, I would cry while you cried.

There were all those happy times too.  I loved all the times you clung to me… how you would go to sleep in the carseat in the living room… your love for certain toys… I loved the way your eyes would search for me in the room as your vision got clearer.. I remembered your tummy times, the neck exercises, the way you tried to flip and then could only flip to your left…the excited you in the exersaucer, the snuggly baby in the carriers, your feet kicking leisurely while you sat in the bumbo …. the zoom zoom baby in the walker, the splashing baby in the bath tub, most of all, every night spent sleeping beside me.

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I have no regrets my darling, taking time off from work… I managed to witness so much of your babyhood. I’m amazed that your sprouted under my nose and in my eyes you seemed to have always been the same. I only see the difference when I look through the few thousand photos I’ve taken of you.

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I ask myself a lot “where has all the time gone?”… whenever I see photos of your early days.

This weekend, you will turn one. And then, in the blink of an eye, you will grow up… be a school-going kid, reach teenage years, be an adult, maybe be a mother like me… you will spread your wings and leave my side one day.

I know we can’t hold on to you forever, yet for now, in the last moments of your babyhood, I do secretly wish I can hold on to you forever… in mummy’s heart, you will always be that perfect fit for me baby. The one who completed me, the one who carried traits of both your papa and mummy in your actions and demeanour.  The one who melts away all pain… the one we loved so deeply even before we even cast our eyes on your face.

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I know many say toddlers years will be trying… terrible 2 and horrible 3. Mummy still look forward to being there with you through it all. I hope you’ll always remember how I am your original best friend.

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Don’t grow up too fast my baby… take your time, smell the flowers along the way in life’s journey, pace yourself.

Ahead of time, I wish you health and happiness always, and may you always live in God’s grace.

Thank you for being our baby.

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50 Weeks + 1 day

It’s 11pm. A newborn in the neighbourhood is crying. He/she has cried a few times already.

I sat in my quiet living room having a cup noodle (my 2nd one since a long time before I gave birth). Little Foot had slept at 9pm sharp today, after a tiring afternoon out at Punggol Waterways.

As I sat and listened to the distant crying, I’m reminded of Little Foot’s colic days… even then, as Daddy Long reminded me, she had never cried for too long. We always had some tricks that magically worked to soothe her.

Today, Little Foot is 50 weeks old… those colicky days felt like a long long time ago. With this thought, I suddenly felt just a little old, a little wistful, perhaps a little slow.

2 weeks to her 1st birthday.

I haven’t quite gotten my head wrapped around the fact that my precious baby Little Foot will no longer be a baby anymore. (Now we know why some people enter adulthood with their parents calling them Ah Bee!)

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While she hasn’t learned to sleep through the night, we have established some sort of routine (a baby led one) that gets her to bed most days at a decent hour. Nevermind that she would wake several times at night.

I don’t envy the parents who are dealing with the crying newborn.  It used to be all these “what do you need??!”,  “What can I do to make you feel better??!” going through my head, whenever the baby keeps bawling and I start ticking off the mental checklist in your head and arrive at “I don’t know what the fishcakes is wrong with her!”.

To the newborn’s parents, trust me, it will get better. YOU will get better at it. And trust me, 10 months down the road, you will be like me, sitting in the living room reminiscing about your baby’s newborn days when you hear other babies cry… days that were so fleeting and you somehow miss. As those days were so trying, they became such precious memories. Because they symbolised the kind of mother I was. Those days laid the good foundation for me. They gave me courage to say “Come what may, I am a mother, I will wing it” whenever things gets tough.

I miss my newborn Little Foot, I miss the tiny baby I used to hold with 1 arm. At the same time, I love this adventurous, cheeky Little Foot that she has grown to become,  and I look forward to more exciting and heartwarming times with her.

Facebook prompted me that on this day a year ago, our diapers orders had arrived. Those newborn size diapers are long gone. What left was the memories of a baby whose butt was so small, and who looked overwhelmed in those diapers while her umbilical cord peeped through.

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This is Parenthood. Chasing the future, missing the past, and more importantly, embracing the present.

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It’s a lovely journey isn’t it?

Just another moment, please?

My Little Foot is pushing her bed time.  Nowadays, she end up trying her hardest to be up till 9pm. An hour later than her usual bed time which she set herself months ago.

My guess is, maybe she just wants a few more minutes and a few more moments with me. For that, I am grateful.

Today, I missed her while I watched her play through the baby monitor. So near, yet so far… I could sit there and stare all day watching her go through all her toys, pulling herself to stand supported, but there is work to be done, and I want to quickly wrap it up and not do OT.

Every working mama goes through this. A sense of wistfulness,  and also a secret prayer to the Big Guy Up there to not let you miss a milestone –“No, don’t take your first steps while I’m not there…”

When I used to have 24/7 with her, I didn’t really maximise the time we had together.  Now that time together is a scarcity,  there are times I rather not take my dinner till we’ve played and she’s fast asleep. Every morning,  I keep saying to myself,  “just awhile more…” before I have to peel myself away from her side.

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I’m sure I’m not alone in this journey.
To my fellow full time working mummies, jia you!

Don’t miss the moment

I’m feeling stoned and shuttling between laptop and baby tonight.

It is one of those days when everything at work has the same deadline – Now.

So decided that, rather than camp in office, I would be home to play awhile with Little Foot and then tuck her in bed…..then I continue to try to finish up the slides I was working on (amongst other things).

Getting her to sleep was rather smooth today. I walked out to the dining table to continue my work… less than half hour later, she cried. So here I am, blogging while she comfort latches back to dreamland.

As we lay here in each others’ arms, I remind myself that she won’t always need me. She won’t always be so physically and emotionally attached to me. She won’t always want to fall asleep in my arms. One day, she will grow up and probably roll her eyes if I asked her to sleep with mummy tonight. 

I tell myself to soak in the moment,  leave the work be for awhile. Her babyhood is coming to an end as we near her 1st birthday. It saddens me a little. How time really slipped us by.

I’m happy to sprint back to the room as long as you need me, my baby… thank you for needing me as much as you do now. I love you to the moon and back! 

Eh eh eh!

I wonder how work-from-home mummies do it.

My first time bringing my laptop home this weekend. Woke up to realise I have to quickly respond to work this morning.

Ran for Little Foot’s music class. (Baby K joined us today!)

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Had lunch, went to City Square to buy a present for the baby party we are invited to tomorrow, bought a toy to add on to my preps for Little Foot’s Big O-N-E party.

Got home… sent her off to the playground with Aunty Lily so I could work on those darn slides which we have been cracking our head over.

She came home, took her dinner, showered…. and mummy was still at it. In Papa Long’s words “She finish playing everything liao…” and mummy was still staring at the laptop. So she proceeded to insist on being in the same room and “eh eh eh!” non-stop and trying to get her hands on me.

Stress!!!

Felt like I was being guilt-tripped, but I pressed on and finished it up before I picked her up and let her glue herself to me.

I doubt I will ask to telecommute. It’s just too taxing on my willpower.

 

 

A tiny issue there….

Being back at work is one thing. Being back at work while still a lactating mum is another thing.  I’m still trying to figure the whole situation out.

I don’t know how my friends coped when they went back at 3 or 4 months post delivery (I remember it used to get so painful if I didn’t pump or latch on time).

Maybe it’s just the way I am. I am happy to inform the blogosphere that I’m a breastfeeding mother. At work however,  I feel inclined not to shout it out loud if I can help it.

I feel paiseh…. whenever I have to explain to someone that I’ll be “downstairs”, especially the guys. So it turned out, my one pump a day around 2pm is almost always delayed.

And here’s the tricky thing, how to survive being at an event the whole day (off-site). I will find out next week.

Not a person to shun duties, so I do feel that it is inappropriate to say “can you don’t roster me?” (Because helloooo. .. I can’t be carrying my pumps and bottles around).

Let’s hope I don’t get one of those epic blocked ducts episodes again next week. Feel feverish  just thinking about it.

So yes, welcome back to work, mama… maybe mothers like me are too conservative and being too hard on ourselves.

1st week as a full time working mum

Sunday is about to come to an end, and Little Foot is finally sound asleep.

Mummy finally gets some time to pause and reflect upon this week, my first full week as a full time working mum aka FTWM.

So many of my very supportive mummy friends have congratulated me at the end of Friday with “yay! you survived your first week!”. I am so touched.  It really takes a fellow mummy to understand the pain of this transition,  especially since mine came so late in the mummy game.

How do I feel?

I think I didn’t do too badly for a fully latching mummy that has been glued to her baby for more than 10 months. I thought I might be so emo on my first day,  but honestly, once I stepped through the doors,  I didn’t really give myself chance to wallow in self pity. (It is good to have a linear brain sometimes. )

I spent the first two days cleaning my old workstation and shifting to the new one. 3+ years of junk and 11 mths of dust.  No joke.

The IT folks took awhile to get things going for me again. So it was only Wednesday that my machines were up. By then some work had already landed on my lap. Thursday morning was spent off site at a long meeting. Friday was the first day I felt like things are in full swing. There were a couple of occasions where meetings brought on migraine. I think some parts of my brain still needs time to be reactivated.

I had returned to work a changed person, but it wasn’t just me. The place seemed to have changed too… many of my kakis were no longer there. I don’t quite know what to make of it, but perhaps it migbt not be a bad thing. I feel less attached and so it doesn’t make me feel so bad when I left on the dot.

My mummy routine at work?

I set aside half an hour after lunch to visit the mothers’ room. Supply is slowly but surely dwindling,  so 1 pump session in the day works, as long as Little Foot latches in the morning and when I return home. It is during this pumping time that I think of her and miss her the most.

I try not to call home more than once daily. Simply because I know she jolts awake if the phone rings. If I do miss her, I have photos and videos on my phone /Facebook to get me through. We did 2 video calls this week 🙂

I find myself quickening my pace when I knock off. So, it’s a good thing I decided to drive instead of take the train. I definitely want to be there for her evening bath time and bed time.

I didn’t really have time yet to process whether I felt my time with her was more precious now that it is confined to the small pockets before and after work, but I was secretly happy when she pushed her bedtime,  because it meant more time to hang out together and play. I found myself more patient with her when she’s being cranky or resisting sleep.

As we had a hectic Saturday with the Winter ONEderland party and quite a tiring day today, maybe what I will miss most is being able to sleep till later than office hours on weekdays.

Is Little Foot coping well with our separation? I think she’s not doing too badly for starters.

Mornings,  she would cling to me for dear life once she saw me out of my PJs(clear signal mummy’s going out!)

Evenings, around the time I’m home,  she starts fussing. Once, she was there at the lift landing when the lift opened. I was soooo happy to see her face all lit up,  it brought me nearly to tears.

I think we both deserve a good pat on the back for doing so well in our first week of transition.

So this more or less sums up my transition from SAHM back to FTWM. I do feel that returning to work that I’m familiar with is less daunting than say, if I had gone to a completely new posting or workplace. Let’s hope my positive feelings continue.

To my Little Foot,

Mummy returns to work for us –  You, me and Papa. I firmly believe Papa should not be burdened with the role of being sole breadwinner. It is a psychologically draining position for anyone to be in, even if he doesn’t feel it.

And Mummy was brought up to believe that one must work hard and not be reliant on your spouse financially. What’s more, Papa and I have always been equals, and maintaining the equilibrium makes for a healthy marriage. With both of us working, we will be able to afford the best for you within our means. I believe we can do this without compromising our love and attention for you.

Thank you for nearly 11 months of company… and thank you for the bright smile you reserve for me when I reach home each evening. Thank you for letting me go back to work a changed person. You let me see that there are more important things to life than being a workaholic. Yes, you changed me, for the better.

Love you to the moon and back.

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