Ally's In Wonderland

High Productivity

2012-01-09T14:56:00.006+08:00

I had microbial eczema on my left leg. From a cut, to a stubborn rash that wouldn't heal, for 6 months. And then the eczema spread. And then the itch became rather annoying and frustrating. I had spots all over my thighs, lower leg, on my buttocks and some on my arms and hands. Bumps that were itchy, and weepy. Thank goodness, it wasn't scabies (eww!)
It took me 6 months to see a skin specialist, that's how stubborn I am. So, I was put on oral steroid and antibiotics for a week. This was my first time taking oral steroid. And BOY IT MADE ME SLEEP REALLY REALLY LATE AND I HAD ALL THE ENERGY AND VIGOR ALL WEEK LONG YABADDABADOOO!!!!!

I was literally an energizer bunny. I was organizing my things really well, I was DOING rather than mulling! And I felt accomplished! This coincided with Daniel's first week in Primary One, so I was running all over places to get this and that done.

And these were completed, finally!

My IKEA shadow frame has been sitting in a box for ages. I tell you, when inspiration comes in a form of oral steroid, you practically get anything you want done. That little cute bunny is a handphone accessory that has been staring at me for ages too.

SOCK monkey! For 3 months, it was just the body, hands, tail, ears and nose, all in separate pieces. It now has a soul.

These two fellas were made some time ago. Never thought gardening gloves would be so useful... hee hee!

These socky cuddlies were made possible by this book:

Now that it's end of my oral steroid week, my skin is better, and I'm starting to feel sleepy...

Reallieee sleeeepy...

First Day Primary One

2012-01-06T10:54:00.007+08:00

4th January 2012 marks a major milestone for us. Our Daniel has started formal schooling! DARJAH SATU!

Here's what I prepared for him, and it essentially made me feel truly as a parent.

1. Uniforms. I got four sets. And 2 pairs of shoes, 4 pairs of socks. Additional sets better than an emergency! I should get those holey singlets as innerwear, they are good sweat absorber, and can be changed everyday, instead of daily changing of the shirt.

2. THE SCHOOLBAG! This is probably THE main component of the whole first-day-in-school hoolabaloo. It's like the car you're driving to the first day of work. On the first day, he wore my freebie backpack I got from servicing my car. Cheapskate mom. Those are meant for tall ang moh adults. When I saw him walking to his school from his bus drop-off point, I felt bad. His bag was banging the back of his legs and it made him walk funny. So, right after that I got him a wheelie Ben 10 backpack. He was elated!

3. Name tags for his belongings. Pencil cases, schoolbag, water bottle, food container, color pencil box, books, files. For his bag, pencil cases and snack bag, I added on of those tags with key rings. Like a luggage tag. I like doing mundane things like this.

4. The recess time snack bag. I've written some sort of a timetable for snacks to bring on different days of the week. Sandwiches, fried rice, banana, chips, biscuits, bread, muffin and whatever healthy snacks I can think of (which he may not eat, and end up buying junk food from the canteen).

5. Remember wrapping our textbooks and exercise books with clear plastic sheets? I did it and it felt so nostalgic!

6. The schedule. He takes the school bus and I had to 'train' him to do tasks on time. I even drew a pictorial timetable.
He has to shower at 11am, eat his lunch at 11.15am, and get ready for the bus by 11.35am. It has to be army style if you take the school bus! GO GO GO!

And then he arrives in school at about 12.30pm for assembly and classes officially starts at 1pm.

At 3pm, they break for recess, for 20 minutes. I appreciate my one hour lunchtime now. These kids really have to gobble down their food.

One parent brought McDonalds.... spoil market!
This school canteen offers plates of fried rice, fried noodles, chicken nuggets, fish nuggets, breads, curry puffs and food I didn't bother to remember and probably don't want him to eat too much.

The students assemble back before going back to class. The best-behaved class gets to go first. Daniel's class was the noisiest. Aiyaiyaiyai.

I get the whole evening off! YAY!

Classes end at 6.20pm. By the time, he gets into the school bus, it's 6.35pm, and he arrives at our home gate at 7.20pm. The ACTUAL journey from school to our home is 5 minutes. The husband will pick him up in future when he finishes work early :)

So everything went jolly well right? Almost. After dinner, all of sudden, he broke down and cried. It's one of those going-through-a-major-change kind of cry. I held him and felt like crying myself. These were his reasons.

1. The school hours are too long. Kindergarten used to be 4 hours, and he's home by 1pm and he had the entire day to play. Now, he said he has no time to watch his cartoon on TV in the afternoons, no time to play games no time to play with his toys.

2. He misses his baby brother... awwwww.

3. He misses me... awwww.

4. Sand got into his eyes in the bus because he was sitting next to an open window. Yes, non-aircon bus still exists in Malaysia!

After some pep talk, we are a-okay. I think he just needed to let it out, which is healthy.

This concludes his first day in school!

Dottie Angel

2011-12-30T15:05:00.005+08:00

...is my new ou xiang. Granny chic is my new craze.

I want her book. (just ordered it!)
Dottie Angel.

And I want her house!

pictures reblogged from creamylife blog.

My 2011

2011-12-30T10:25:00.004+08:00

1. On New Year's Day, we had an unexpected surprise in a form of a little embryo, who grew into a healthy fetus, only to have left us after 18 weeks. Can't believe it only happened this year. It feels like it's been a long long time. But I have never stopped thinking about him. Happy New Year, sweet Damien! XOXO

2. I had FIVE wholesale orders for my handmade cards and some pouches. I'm no millionaire, but this is huge for me, as a smalltime crafter. *pat on the back*

3. Daniel can swim! Without floats! In the big people pool! And he can ride on his bicycle without training wheels! *pat on his back*

4. Baked chocolate chip cookies for the first time after 20 years. Daniel worshipped me as the SuperBaking Hero.

5. Revamped my craft station.

6. Darren admitted in hospital for 2 nights, for mild pneumonia.

7. Shopped for a lot of craft stuff! See big smile on me face.

8. My school friend had a burst vein in the brain. Scared me out of my body. Thank God she is back on her feet now, living a normal life. It's amazing to get a second chance in life.

9. My institute director had a stroke. Shocked us all out of our bodies. She's still alive, but has not regained full bodily and mental functions... yet. Hope is a beautiful thing.

10. Got a Christmas tree for the first time at home. Didn't decorate it well, but what's more important are the gifts I WRAPPED. Yes, no more naked presents. They were all wrapped nicely with fancy paper, and ribbons and tags!

11. Attended Ajahn Brahm's inspirational life talk for the first time.
I learn that when we move forward to 2012, we must leave behind the bad unhappy things behind. And embrace the future. Leave behind the fear, the anxiety, and the bad experiences. Only then we can truly embrace the future. Don't ask yourself, "What if *insert bad thing* happen to me?". Instead ask yourself, "What if it DIDN'T happen to me". Also, learn from your success, and not failures. Of course, failures happens so you can learn and not repeat it. But don't dwell on it. Focus on your success and repeat it. Think of the moment you were happy in 2011, or an achievement and think about what is it that made it happen. Repeat that success. And the most successful people are the happiest people, regardless of wealth status. Do you think Michael Jackson was happy? Ha, think again.

That pretty much wrapped up my year. I hope you had a better year! Next is my 2012 inspiration :)

My Dream Wedding

2011-12-29T09:29:00.028+08:00

I never had mine. If I could do it all again, It would look like something we can't achieve here in Johor Bahru. For many reasons.
I love simple, handmade weddings, maybe with bursts of bright happy colors. Something whimsical, dreamy, natural and just happy!

I would wear this. From J.Crew, have pocket, can stuff ang pows inside, and my iPhone so that I can constantly check Facebook. Haha.

And this. Tee hee.

This would be my shoes.

My bouquet. LOVE the gigantic awesome pink peony.

My groom's boutonniere.

I would have an entourage of matching-geared bridesmaids.

The heng-tai will wear funny socks.

Tell me what you do with wedding invitation cards you receive here in Malaysia. Say what? Yes, they go to the trashbin, where they deserve to be. Unless they are really special (and expensive to make), your mesmerized guests will keep them. Now, you wouldn't throw THESE away would you?

My escort cards. They don't exist in typical Malaysian weddings. Here, we have pretty wedding receptionists who will accept your ang pow and tell you your table number. 1,2,3...85. Never fancy names like Hope, Love, Faith, Gratitude, or Rosemary, Basil, Oregano. Because our san ku ma cannot pronounce them.

My table setting. Over here, why bother. No manpower, no creativity, not interested.

My table centerpiece. Same thing, not bothered, no creativity, not interested.

Menu and program fan. I love handwritten fonts.

Wedding favors. We always get the tasteless cartoony Chinese bride and groom illustration on a box containing tasteless round brown thing or weird polymer-tasting candies. Oh, they are chocolates.

The cake. OH, the cake. Here, we cut a FAKE cake. On the stage, followed by popping of the champagne and toasting Yam Seng. Standard protocol.

In JB, when we receive a wedding invitation, 99% of the time, it says "Peking Restaurant". Because there is nowhere else. I have to talk to Peking to build an indoor-outdoor wedding dreamland. Get it? An outdoor setting, enclosed in a giant dome. Forget it. Here are some of the places a wedding should take place.

We'll take beautiful candid shots.

And lastly, we'll have our first dance. Here, we eat the last dish of the 10 course meal, usually longan and almond jelly, and then go home.

Amazing, after publishing this post, I feel like I actually HAD my dream wedding!!

Tis' The Season

2011-12-23T11:31:00.003+08:00

To Be Jolly!

Have yourselves a merry little Christmas :)

2011-12-22T16:21:00.001+08:00

Some people si beh eng.

But it's entertaining. Value of art and creativity.

Advent 2 - Gift Wrapping

2011-12-20T15:12:00.007+08:00

Because we have our first Christmas tree this year, I thought we should have wrapped presents under the tree too! In the name of good traditional fun!

And these days, I hyperventilate when it comes to gorgeous gift-wrapping! It's like whole new realm of creativity, fun and inspiration! The shape, the texture, the tie-arounds, the gift tags, the typography, the COLOURS! It's endless! *gasp gasp gasp*

OK, my BP back to normal. Here are some of my favorite:
Washi Tape Gift Wrap Ideas from The Sweetest Occasion

From Shimtokk

From hellosandwich

With gift-wraps like these, I don't care what the content is!

Nail Polish Put To Good Use

2011-12-19T15:13:00.006+08:00

Do you buy those cute little bottles of nail polish (especially from Sasa) and only use them once?

*high five* !

Recently a colleague shared an ingenious idea on how to put it to good use. If you have home appliances or furniture that has metal screw fixtures etc, like the common aluminium clothes hanger, those foldable ones? The metal screws WILL get rusty over time, and then what happens? You accidentally brush your precious WHITE clothes over the rusty parts and they get stained. @#$%^&!!

What can you do? Paint a coating or two of the nail polish on them to prevent rusting. This is most effective if the metallic surfaces are still in good condition (after buying ).

This is another way to create colorful thumb tacks. Remember the mass collection of rusty thumb tacks on our school notice board? I wished I'd knew this 20 years ago. Hee hee.

Paint away!

My Christmas Wish List

2011-12-16T10:58:00.006+08:00

Everyone has one. Mine is:

1. My own bicycle. White. Retro-looking. With a comfy seat that won't cause my ahem to be sore after riding.

2. Indian hand-carved wooden print blocks

3. A letterpress machine! But this is too far-fetched. Oh well, a girl can dream can't she?

A letterpress card. Look at the gorgeous indentation.

That's it!

Advent 1

2011-12-15T08:18:00.004+08:00

This year, Christmas feels a little more special.

They say Christmas is the time you miss those who are not around anymore, the most. This year, I have someone to miss. I would envision him mesmerized by the blinking colorful lights on the tree, and kicking and waving his arms, wide-eyed, alert and very smiley. His brothers will be jumping around him.

It's like a shadow that will never go away.

Whoops, didn't mean this to be depressing... Christmas is time to be JOLLY! And to be surrounded with love!

Random

2011-12-13T15:07:00.000+08:00

Now we know how babies feel...

Recycling Project: Toilet Rolls

2011-12-08T14:18:00.007+08:00

You didn't know toilet rolls can be THIS pretty and useful leh....

Colour pencils holder. Group your reds, blues, yellows, greens and browns!

This Weekend...

2011-12-02T09:06:00.002+08:00

I'm going to get us a christmas tree. For the first time!

Because I've already bought christmas tree ornaments, and streamers. All we need is a tree and the lights.

I've also been thinking of throwing a Christmas party, in our little garden, under a lightbulb tent. It would be SO magical! Imagine eating, drinking and jollying under a night sky full of stars. Or something like this, in a vineyard.

Happy weekend!

Thanksgiving

2011-11-28T10:15:00.003+08:00

Happy Thanksgiving! Not like we celebrate it here, but I think we should give thanks EVERYDAY.

And EVERYDAY, I am thankful for:

1. Being alive. And my loved ones being alive. Sounds dramatic, but we don't realize how many bullets we dodge everyday.

2. Having a job.

3. Being able to make cards and other neat stuff with my hands and imagination.

4. Having an awesome domestic helper. She is literally my life-saver.

5. Not least, my boys, including the big one, who makes me laugh.

Teacher's Appreciation Gift Set

2011-11-21T09:48:00.005+08:00

It is always the apple theme. But it's ok, I love apples. The set consist:

1. A handmade card
Apple is handstamped on a thick card stock, printed on it is-
I chose this special present because I wanted you to know,
That I’m grateful for your hard work in helping me to grow,
For your constant understanding and for always being there,
To tell me I can do it and to show me that you care!

Daniel wrote a personal thank you note to each teachers and signed off, in color pencil. There were 2 casualties. Wasted.

2. A Kikkerland Apple memo pad.

3. A foldable shopping bag. Daiso has them. Go green y'all!

4. An eco natural cotton muslin drawstring pouch which I bought in bulk. Comes in 100. From the U,S of A. Comes in handy for occasions like this.

5. Handstamped teacher's name on a Shinzi Katoh's Alice in Wonderland theme Apple memo pad sheet.

Hari Raya Haji

2011-11-18T16:08:00.005+08:00

I live in Malay-predominated suburban estate, so every year during Hara Raya Haji, a sacrifice ritual takes place at the field very near my house. It's so near, I just took 10 steps to snap this. This is the lorry that ferried 13 cows to this field very near my house. Or 14.

The boys were fascinated. It's not everyday we see real LIVING cows that moo. Darren can moo very well now.

So come Sunday afternoon, they were all gone. Although they were very near my house, I did not hear ANYthing. No loud traumatizing moos in distress. It was that peaceful. I'm thinking, we should all start eating halal meat from now. The animals are peaceful when slaughtered. Maybe some of that peaceful energy is transferred to the consumer. Interesting thought?

Most awesome Bathtub EVER

2011-11-17T11:22:00.001+08:00

Dear Daniel

2011-11-15T10:35:00.004+08:00

I saw you in your graduation gown, up on the stage with all your friends, singing and dancing to a song which says "I Am Ready".
I held Siri above my head, trying to record this priceless moment of you, my flesh and blood, the one who changed my life in one second, the one whom I never knew I could love so instantly and intensely at first sight. Yep, that's you. As the song went on.. " I Am Ready..."... "I Am Ready"... memories of your six years flashed in mind. HOW DID YOU GROW UP SO LIGHTING FAST! And now you are ready to face the world and the future ahead, while I am standing by behind you, forever in support and love.

And then tears filled my eyes. And I recorded a few seconds of the plants below the stage instead.

I'm glad you still have a bit of the baby cheeks and fingers so I'm going to smooch you until you don't want me to.

What I'm Up To...

2011-11-10T16:30:00.005+08:00

Redecorating my home. Bit by bit. I think the fun is in the process itself, and constantly evolving. 5 years ago, it was the dark teak wood furniture trend, like the Balinese and Thai styles. Rustic, organic and resort-like. Now, I love white wooden furnitures which also gives the rustic and organic feel to it.

If only I could replicate these in my home!

And this dining table rocks!

I used to be a little too serious in decorating. Certain pieces MUST be together, colours MUST match. There MUST be a theme. Now I trash all that rigidness away and indulge in concerted randomness! I go by the 'feel' of it. If it feels right and relaxing, it stays there. And decorations can ALWAYS change anytime you want, so basically it's Just-Do-It action and less pondering/hesitating/deciding. This kind of decoration attitude is so much fun!

Now if only the handyman husband will say YES LET'S DO IT when I ask him if we can paint our dining table white...

Elephants

2011-11-09T13:10:00.014+08:00

Once upon a time, I walked into a Feng Shui shop and saw this lovely pair of white clay elephants.

I was told that they are a symbol of conception. Ah perfect!! We were trying for a second child anyway, for what seemed like an eternity. These cuties were placed in the bedroom. That month I conceived. Coincidence? Who knows. I still keep them now, but NOT in the bedroom. They make lovely decor pieces.

I have been enchanted with elephants since! And when I'm enchanted, I create!

And these are some of my favorite picks from etsy.

Cute elephant applique baby suits from tadpolecreations.

Hortence J Pacadorf Photographic Art Print by GrandOleBestiary.

Eco Friendly Canvas Tote Bag by PaisleyMagic

Even silver rings! This is by CuteAbility.

This One Of A Kind Elephant was sculpted entirely from wool using the needle felting technique! By FarmGirlArts.

Carnival Circus Birthday Invitation cards by Peppertowne.

Made from socks! By TashiBear. I'm going to make one!

And who can resist these cute baby shoes! Huh?Huh?! By BusterBooKids.

Last but not least, me bought this cool little wallet from DearSukie.

Elephant overload! Heehee.

Tsunami Footage

2011-11-04T11:05:00.003+08:00

Yu Muroga was doing his job making deliveries when the 11 March 2011 earthquake hit in Japan. Unaware, like many people in the area, of how far inland the Tsunami would travel, he continued to drive and do his job. The HD camera mounted on his dashboard captured not only the earthquake, but also the moment he and several other drivers were suddenly engulfed in the Tsunami. He escaped from the vehicle seconds before it was crushed by other debris and sunk underwater. His car and the camera have only recently been recovered by the police. The camera was heavily damaged but a video expert was able to retrieve this footage.

See footage here.

I imagined that I would be scared BIG-TIME if I were in a car with my two boys, drifting away in that situation. I would hold them tight and say a prayer. My life would flash before my eyes. "This is it"...

It's amazing to be alive. And safe.

Notes from a Dragon Mom

2011-11-03T09:57:00.004+08:00

This article broke my heart :(

What Sons Learn from Their Mothers

2011-11-01T10:53:00.003+08:00

When I read Michael Mitchell's 50 Rules for Dads of Daughters, it brought tears in my eyes. It was funny, sweet and true, especially that now as a grown daughter, I realized just how special is the bond between fathers and daughters.

But I don't have daughters. I have two monkeys. One alpha, another alpha wannabe. And I'll be writing them love notes like this.

Why do I do these silly lovey dovey things? Because little boys deserve every bit of the mushy stuff too. Here's why:

Boys learn their earliest lessons about love and trust from their mothers. The love of a mother can and does actually make boys stronger, emotionally and psychologically. Far from making boys dependent, the base of safety a loving mother can create—a connection that her son can rely on all his life—provides a boy with the courage to explore the outside world. But most important, far from making a boy act in 'girl-like' ways, a loving mother actually plays an integral role in helping a boy develop his masculinity."

The Importance of Loving Refuge

In the early years of a little boy's life, he is torn between two choices: He longs to explore, climb, jump, and run, and he needs to stay close to the adults who allow him to feel secure. In fact, when boys begin to walk and exercise some autonomy, their activity mirrors this dual need. They wander away from Mom (into the backyard, across the playground, or to the neighbor's house) and then return for a quick conversation or a hug, just to be sure she's there.

Your son will learn self-respect and confidence when you provide a loving and secure home base for him. When you can create a sense of belonging and significance for your boy, teach him life and character skills, and practice kind, firm discipline, he learns to trust, to face challenges, and to move freely into his world. When you take time to listen to him and to focus on solutions to the problems he faces, you teach him emotional awareness and good judgment. A strong and loving relationship with a good mother can help a boy learn the skills of intimacy, support him in developing respect for other women, and prepare him for a satisfying relationship someday.

Knowing When to Let Go

Even the wisest mother can find it hard to let go in appropriate ways when her son begins to exercise his independence. Your son's desire to do things for himself, from dressing himself to reading his own bedtime story to dating, can feel like a personal rejection. One of the paradoxes of parenting is that if you do your job as a mother well, your son will eventually leave you.

As your son grows, you will learn to find the balance between offering support and stepping back to let him learn from his own experiences-and his own mistakes. Clinging too tightly can create unnecessary power struggles, especially during adolescence (a rather bumpy period for even the closest mothers and sons). Teach skills and listen well and often; then have faith in your son and let go.

Original article here.

Have sons, will cuddle.

How To Peel Garlic Faster Faster

2011-10-31T14:50:00.004+08:00

Is this a cooking blog? Hell no. But I found an interesting video tutorial on How to Peel Garlic in Less Than 10 Seconds.

Try la!

When I Grow Up...

2011-10-28T11:15:00.002+08:00

... I mean older, I want to be:

1. A kindee teacher. Who dresses up as cartoon characters including Disney princesses, and teaches science and art the fun way!

2. A professional printer. Letterpress and hand-printing. Nombor Satu di Malaysia.

3. A Herbalist / Naturalist / Healer. Altogether. Harnessing the goodness of nature and the universe's energy. How do I do that? I have absolutely no idea, but I will find out someday and share this here.

4. A craft hobby shop owner. This is a secret dream and there is this panting-larang that if you reveal it, it won't come true. What I'm not revealing is the little details about my dream shop.

5. An entrepreneur. With a new awesome brand of products under my shiny belt. Stationery and homeware.

I need 4 clones please thank you.

Precious Times

2011-10-24T17:02:00.007+08:00

These days I've been preoccupied with crafting at home (preparing wholesale orders for Christmas) that I feel like I miss out on something and it makes me feel really bad. Daniel's bedtime rituals, our weekend shenanigans, silly games and just-hang-out has taken a backseat and in a blink of an eye, I felt like he has grown up so much and doesn't need me to tuck him in bed anymore :(
But almost always, you find something that will give you a second a chance :)

Non-Stop

2011-10-20T11:32:00.004+08:00

Ever since I became a mother, EVERYTHING seems to be moving non-stop... time, movements, surroundings, little boys etc. For the life of me, I cannot remember when was the last time I had NOTHING to do.

This is the best way I can explain the drastic change in perspective caused by immediate arrival of offspring(s)... hehe. By the way, this is drawn using MSPaint. Cowabunga!

Somehow, there are ALWAYS things to do. And when you spend a lifetime always doing something, you get so used to it that when there is nothing to do, you CREATE something to do. Crazy!

Toddler Run Over and IGNORED

2011-10-18T09:24:00.005+08:00

This is not the first case, and there are probably a LOT more, not captured on video. The first video I watched some time back, of a young boy run over by a van, sent chills down my spine. At least the driver realized and stopped to help. But in this recent outrageous case, the poor little girl was run over twice, AND ignored by passers-by. Is this the state of morality in China now?

Read the full story here. Don't watch the video if you can't, I understand the mental disturbance it can cause.

There's this cold fear that radiates through your body when you are a mother and you read such news. Your mind starts to imagine your own child in that situation and at the same time you are telling your mind "DON'T. GO. THERE."

And then you go hug your kids. Real tight.

A Game For Everyone

2011-10-17T16:52:00.003+08:00

I thought I'd share this with parents, and aging people (like me) who feels that their brains are rotting sometimes.

It's just a simple game. You can play with your kids in the restaurant while waiting for your food, or in the car while traveling a distance. Or just play for fun.

You'll need papers (REUSE THOSE PESKY BANK LETTERS AND ENVELOPES and WHATNOTS!) and a pen or pencil.
Draw 5 objects, OR draw 50 objects, up to you.
Show them to your opponent. Count to 10 seconds, OR count to 2 seconds.
Have your opponent name all the objects you drew.

It's seriously fun. Not only does it test your memory, it also makes you think of countless objects to draw!!

I WANT THIS

2011-10-12T15:38:00.003+08:00

A couple of years ago, I started to love vintage things, or things that look vintage and nostalgic.
Like this enamel bowl by BeautifulLifexDesign

And this tweed messenger by catherineaitken

Me is getting old!

If...

2011-10-10T16:41:00.003+08:00

Some news and events lately have made me ponder deeply about my life and death, and about how close you are to your life partner that you discuss about whether you want to be on life support system if something dreadful happens.

I've always wanted to write an instructional, if I would to go suddenly. I have not written a will, but I reckon the major stuff gets straightened out by law. What I'm more concerned about are the itsy bitsy stuff that law don't even want to bother with, like who gets my handmade pouches at home, sewn with love.

I guess I can start here, now, today.

1. My etsy shop.
The thing that made me sane, driven and an enormous sense of satisfaction. The cards, pouches and other fun stuff I have made since 2009 to be sold on my etsy shop, have brought me a kind of joy that says Hey, I HAVE a life!
If I go, someone will have to log in/report to Etsy to have my shop and account disabled or something. If someone just bought something, I wish the order would be delivered for the last time. I know this is trivial, but I am a responsible seller.

2. On life support.
Geez, I have no stand on this one. Would I want to be in a vegetative state? On life support? I really don't know. I guess what's practical is to just go, instead of lingering in hope and misery. I understand it is a burden. I just want to go and let my loved ones move on. But if I'm brain-healthy, and can afford nurse/helper, I guess I would want to be kept alive so I can still see my kids grow up, and I can watch all the movies and series I want. But it would be bad for the husband because then he can't really move on, can he. What if he met someone nice, I would be such a hindrance, just sitting and lying there watching DVDs all day, wouldn't it. Put me in another room, with a great sound system, and maybe a blink-activated remote to do simple tasks. Introduce me to the nice lady, please. She better be good to the boys.

To be Continued.

What Turns A Woman On

2011-10-07T11:32:00.007+08:00

Lately, I see commercials with a new age rather good-looking well-buffed dad playing with his kids, or doing a house chore.

Do you know that's the top turn-on for women? ESPECIALLY mothers? There's something about the lethal combo of biceps, THE HAIR and domestication.

When the husband tuck the boys to bed at night or take the little one for night bike ride to chill him out, while I get to shower earlier and do whatever I need to do, my heart swells with adoration and appreciation. In other words, I'm his bitch.

That's why I LOVE this book, Porn For New Moms.

LOVE the way certain keywords are bold, like You, relax, take a nap, have a break.

It's hard to explain why. It's like these men could be out drinking/working/entertaining/playing their favorite sport/hanging out with the guys, BUT NO, he is at home, looking after the baby that you two SHARE together, not because he has to, but he WANTS to. O. EM. GEE. Can you hear my panties drop.

Green Crafting

2011-10-05T16:16:00.007+08:00

How wonderful it is to be crafting all week long at work, for a company charity flea market. The best part is recycling items, and making them into something new. You'll be amazed what toilet and paper rolls can be remade as! (will have photos)

And those unwanted jewelry with beads? They can be fillers for lovely cute Five Stone beanies!

Reuse glass jars.

Are you a Padini fan? Have you collected enough Padini carrier bags you don't know what to do with them? Have your friend recently had a baby and you want to give her a pack of diapers (plus other baby stuff of course) but you don't know how to present it? Here, get a big Padini carrier and embellish it with pink ribbon. I covered the 'PADINI' word with matching pink card stock with scalloped edge and the word B A B Y hand-stamped on it. No stamps? Draw it.

Dark brown and pink is sweet colour combination. By the way, this fit a Mamy Poko Jumbo pack.

How about that for Green Crafting!

On My Way Home Everyday...

2011-09-22T11:51:00.002+08:00

What do you think of during your journey home from work everyday?

I randomly think about:

1. I wonder how's the traffic is at the customs.
2. What shall I make tonight? A pouch? A new card?
3. What fun project can I do with Daniel this weekend?
4. What supplies do I need to get?
5. Darren is so cute, can't wait to hold him and smell him.
6. I wonder what it would be like if Damien is around, I'd have 3 boys to wrestle with!
7. What shall I make tonight? A pouch? A card?
8. What supplies do I need to get?
9. Is tonight 'sexy' night? What should I put on?
10. Darren is so cute.
11. Will Daniel grow up to be a good teenager and a good man?
12. How are my parenting skills up to date?
13. Darren is so cute.
14. Is Paul going to be home before me? I would love that.
15. I should surprise him with a nice facial or massage.
16. I should call my mom.
17. Darren is so cute.
18. Should I have another baby?
19. I should call my mom.
20. I wonder what time I'll get home.
21. I want to make bento lunches for my family.
22. I want to quit my job, sell off my Golf and live a low-maintenance simple life.
23. I need Josie, my miracle domestic helper.
24. Should I have another baby?
25. Darren is so cute.
26. What new design can I create for a card?
27. I want to redecorate my home.
28. I want to quit my job, sell off my Golf and live a low-maintenance simple life, AND redecorate my home.
29. I wonder what Daniel has been doing all day at home. I should create daily projects for him to do.
30. I should settle some bank matters.

Repeat until arrival. Gosh! No wonder my brain is tired when I get home!

He's Not Perfect.

2011-09-21T14:21:00.000+08:00

Sleepless in Puteri Pediatric Ward

2011-09-19T16:06:00.006+08:00

7 September. Our 1.5 yr old Darren had been on Augmentin for a cough and fever for 3 days but didn't seem to get better. Fever still came back. But he was still rather active. But that evening after his nap, he was just sitting on my lap, almost panting, and inactive. When Darren is inactive, something is amiss.

At 11pm, we brought him to Puteri Specialist Hospital after a GP's advice. This was our first experience as parents, admitting our child in a hospital. Strangely, I wasn't as freaked out as I would have been if it was my first child. I was rather relaxed, positive and excited. But what followed after we went into the A&E ward did tear my maternal heartstrings a bit.

We had to strip him and a nurse whisked him away to bring down his temperature by PUTTING HIM UNDER A TAP OF RUNNING COLD WATER. They say they do this to prevent fever fits. He was also quickly given the fever suppository.

Then barely dried, we had to do a chest X-ray by holding him down on the cold hard table. The husband held down his thighs, while I held onto his arms and shoulders. Both of us wearing some protective HEAVY bulletproof apron. This took less than 5 minutes. I was expecting to see an x-ray film but everything is digital now!

We went back to the A&E ward where the doctor diagnosed pneumonia. Mild, beginning stages. Consolidation in the lungs present, that means the cloudy area in his lungs.

Now they had to insert the intravenous line into his little hand. How do they do this to a conscious screaming wrestling child? I had no idea because they drew the curtain and ordered us to stay out. After what felt like days, we got to hold him, and his little bandaged IV-ed hand. No, it's not over. He has to get the neb. And he hated it. The nebulizer mask is known to inflict fear, hatred and trauma to toddlers. I know the fear part because at one point during administration, amidst his cries and screams, he muttered 'Scared'. Oh my heart sank. This is the hardest part of being a mother. You know your job is to protect your child from what he fears, yet in this situation, you can't stop it because it's for his own good.

The drama was over. We went up to the Peads Ward and checked into the High Dependency Unit. It was midnight and both of us were still wide-eyed reeling from the thrill. The husband brought me the lazy chair provided by the hospital, and I told him to go home. Darren's fever had gone down since and was back in action. BACK IN ACTION TILL 2AM! He had no problems falling asleep on his new crib, whereas I had problems falling asleep on a non-bed, in sub-zero temperature, dry air and no quilt.

So, for 2 nights, he was back in action, on antibiotics, fever-free, 4 hourly nebs... whereas I was zombified, dehydrated and delirious.

BACK. IN. ACTION.

We went home on Friday. And then, I was down. The baton is in my hands.

Craft Geek DIY: How to Print on Glass Jars

2011-09-07T08:28:00.007+08:00

Print-making art has been around for a long long time, and it's versatile, easy and fun. There are various ways to make a print ie. stamps, linoleum blocks, wooden blocks, and even potatoes (remember that primary school art project?)

In this post, I will show you how to decorate your unused, unwanted glass jars and bottles.

You need:

1. Your glass jars of course. Washed and wiped dry.
2. A printout of your design. Either print it on a laser jet printer or have your design photocopied. Do not use inkjet printers.
3. Clear sticky tape.
4. Mod Podge. There are a few types, get the hard coat, or check if it is suitable for glass surfaces.
5. A paint brush.
6. A bowl of warm water. Preferably a pretty little bowl because it makes you happy.

Here's how you do it:

1. Stick the clear tape over your printed design. NICELY. FLAT. SMOOTH.

2. Cut it out, near the edge of the design.

3. Soak it in the pretty bowl of warm water for about 20-30 minutes.

4. Rub the paper away using your thumb. The paper would be pulp by now. Rub away until you see a clear sheet.

5. Stick it on your glass surface. it's pretty hard to shift position once you place it on the surface. The tape would still be sticky.
Press and wipe away all excess water. Leave NO air bubbles between the tape and the glass surface.

6. Do a few if you like.

7. Open a jar of Mod Podge. It is WHITE but don't worry, it becomes clear when dried.

8. Paint an even coating of Mod Podge over the design and around it.

9. As you can see, Mod Podge is clear when it's dried. But I wonder why my tape is not entirely clear. You can see the uncut whitish area around my design. I will use another brand of clear tape next time.

Have fun!!

Mooncake Festival Electrical Lanterns

2011-09-06T08:20:00.007+08:00

It's time of the year again, for the loud annoying electric moon cake festival LANTERNS with REPULSIVE techno kiddie music!

If you have a child of 0-4 years of age, and have doting grandparent(s) and aunts and uncles, and live in Malaysia, chances are you will have one of these at home sometime this month.

See that little speaker there? It looks harmless, yes? YOU ARE DEAD WRONG!

Here's how to mute it. No, sorry, you can't ever mute it unless you run it over with your car.

Here's how to muffle it. Go to your stationery supply shop and get some of these Tack-It sticky thing. Cover the speaker with it. A pack of these can cover 50 loud annoying electrical lanterns.

You are welcome!!

Ouchies

2011-09-02T14:51:00.002+08:00

Like R.E.M said, Everybody Hurts.Happy Healing.

A Little Party

2011-09-01T14:56:00.000+08:00

Last June, I prepared a little something special for Daniel's 6th birthday celebration with his kindeemates.This is how you pack a goodie bag. That tub of colorful clay set toy was a bargain, $1 each.

Instead of a cake, you get muffins for each kid (I hear the teachers go "OH THANK YOU!!! NO CAKE MESS!")

Every muffin has a name flag. Oh. So. Cool. His friends LOVED it.

6 is a fun age. Baby, you grew up too fast!

Noise Sniffer

2011-08-31T10:36:00.003+08:00

If you have an iPhone and some kids, it's quite fun to play with this app called Noise Sniffer.

Last night, my toddler was crying out of hunger, my 6 yr-old was incessantly going "MUMMY, LOOK! MUMMY LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME!" and a plastic elephant toy was blaring it's digital elephant trumpet on the floor.

Immediately, as an opportunistic fun individual, I grabbed my iPhone and switched on my Noise Sniffer apps.

It read 105 dB. "Extremely Loud"

On a daily basis.....

To My Dear Boys: About You

2011-08-18T14:36:00.006+08:00

Dear Daniel,
You are an awesome kid, I mean it. TRULY. You're like my BFF from the start, almost like my soulmate. I love chatting with you when I tuck you to bed every night, we're like friends who share secrets and our innermost fears and desires. Though you're 6, you seem to understand and feel a whole lot more than I can imagine. I know this will cease when you're older so I'm cherishing every moments of our mom-son chit-chats.

You are a sensitive, compassionate, loving and expressive boy. You have shown your care and concern when I needed it most. When I was unwell in bed, you'd pop into the room and ask me if I wanted something to eat or drink. And you'd cover me with my blanket, and touch my forehead. And that turns my heart into mushy goo of warm fuzzy love. You have also shown strength and maturity beyond your age in time of crisis. When I was in hospital, and your papa had to manage you and your brother in an intense situation, you tried to help as much as you could. When your baby brother was screaming and crying in his carseat, you distracted him, entertained him, sang a lullaby and soothed him to sleep, and you did all these on your own while your papa had to drive. Your papa and I think you did a KICK-ASS AWESOME job. TRULY. You worried for me silently, and you were brave. I'd give you 11 stars out of 10.

Don't ever forget to be awesome. *high five*
ps. I think you'll be a romantic guy who gives flowers and writes love notes to your lady, just like what you do for me now.

Dear Darren,
You are an awesome baby, I mean it. TRULY. If all babies were fun and easy like you, I can have ten of you. Your demeanor is almost like your brother when he was a baby. Sweet and cheerful. You are such a delight. These days you cling to me like a panda. I love how you wrap your little arms around my legs and you stick your head between them, and whimper when you want to be carried up. EVERYTHING you do is adorable, including your tantrums and your cute little crunched up face when you cry. But the best moments are the ones when you look at me with your two round Precious-Moments eyes and flash the most genuine sweet smile in the whole world.... that turns my heart into a mushy goo of warm fuzzy love :)

Be awesome everyday.
ps. I think you'll be into cars like your papa.

Peekaboo

2011-08-17T09:57:00.004+08:00

I really hate to post this again but yaaaaa... it's another dead baby post. Bear with me.

Last night, I started revamping and reorganizing my craft room. The husband was out for network drinks. Yay! Free time for me!
I found a slip of paper and it took me 5 seconds to realize what it was and then I just broke down. My entire body stopped to allow the tear duct to launch big-time. What's strange was that it was TOTALLY OUT OF CONTROL. Like I was looking at myself as another person and going "WHOA,WHOA, WHOA SLOW DOWN SISTER, WHAT'S GOIN' ON!"

There I was, kneeling on the floor, clutching the slip of paper, as two souls, one wailing out of control and another wide-eyed jaw-dropped flabbergasted. If there was a conversation, it would go like this:

A1: WWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
A2: YO, wassup.
A1: MMMMMM MMMMMMMM (trying to suppress cry)
A2: STOP
A1: I *gasp gasp* CAN'T *gasp gasp*
A2: Come on, it's over.
A1: FUCK YOU IT'S NEVER OVER! *sob sob sob*
A2: Okaaaaaaayyy... Let's talk about it then
A1: *sob sob* *sniff sniff* No. MMMMMM MMMMMMMMM
A2: *whistling Katy Perry's Last Friday Night tune*
A1: WAAAAAAAA WAAAAAAAAAAAAA
A2: *finished whistling the entire song*
A1: *sniff sniff*
A2: You okay now?
A1: Shut up.
A2: Let's continue putting stuff in the boxes, okay?
A1: Ok *sniff*

It was a Permit Menguburkan b/o Lau Lei Yin.

"for me it isn't over" by beth retro

Fine Dining Tera Thai @ JB

2011-08-15T15:53:00.007+08:00

Back for second photographical review. The first one is here.

The gorgeous colonial bungalow.

As usual... when the food comes, my camera is tucked away. Next time, I promise!

Anyone needs direction?

Rough August

2011-08-11T11:01:00.004+08:00

The brain is an amazing organ. Subconscious memory is an amazing phenomenon. Usually, PMS moodiness don't linger for more than a few days, but it did. I have been upset, teary and melancholic for two weeks. I checked my diary and apparently I had my pregnancy weeks recorded until week 18. I counted forward. This week I would be at my 37th week, the same week Daniel and Darren was born. So I figured, this must be the week Damien would be born too.

So, I think I should commemorate his phantom birth with a tattoo of his name. Damien18 or D18 but the latter sounds like a durian's strain doesn't it. We'll both have a good laugh :)

To My Dear Boys: About Marriage

2011-07-28T08:25:00.003+08:00

Sometimes, we forget that a marriage needs work and attention too. In fact, constantly. But when work projects and kids consume your daily life, it's easy to put it aside. The danger comes when putting it aside becomes a constant thing. The marriage gets cob-webbed and still.

That is what my hormones feel today. It is usually a passing phase, but I have never recorded how I felt during these 'possessed' phase. So here's a little insight.

I feel like the world is unfair. Unfair towards women. Especially working mothers. Whose husbands are businessmen who needs to network-drink and network-golf with similar businessmen and their drinking/golf buddies.

Take a look at this scenario. When the husband is stressed at work, he goes for drink at night. When the stressful project is over, he celebrates by playing golf and/or drinking with the pals. Now, when the wife has a stressful day, she still comes home to carry out her daily responsibility of making sure the kids are alright, done the homework, or deal with a cranky child. And when everything is settled, all she wants is a good shower and a husband to rub her feet or just blow-dry her hair and talk about anything under the moon.

Like I said, that's what the hormones feel today.

A Void

2011-07-13T16:17:00.002+08:00

When I was pregnant for the third time, I created a space in my heart for another child to love. I think this happens with EVERY pregnant woman.

And then, he was gone. The space is still there and I can't seem to fill it up, not even with my two existing amazing boys. Nothing can fill it up. Weird isn't it.

Zzzzzz

2011-06-27T17:08:00.002+08:00

TOO cute.

Darren is almost 17 months old. He has 8 teeth, and growing more, and drooling me a river. He can say Papaaaaaa, Mummiiiiiie, Titaaaaaaaa, koh-koh, poh-poh, ble (ball), ble (bird), nenen, nana(banana) and pika-pika in the most adorable baby voice. He loves snacks, piggy-back rides, remote controls, phones, plastic bottle filled with water, cardboard boxes and his bolster. He loves shoes too. He scratches his head when he's sleepy. He's not afraid of strangers.

An absolute charm in his own way.

Pouches pouches

2011-06-21T10:17:00.005+08:00

This is what I do to keep sane.

White Woodboard

2011-06-20T13:29:00.006+08:00

There's something about white painted wood that I simply adore.

And they make great photography backdrops, like this one made by the husband for my birthday present earlier this year.

Next will be an entire feature wall of white painted woodpanels... when there are no more kids armed with crayons in the house.

Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep

2011-06-13T16:43:00.004+08:00

You know one of those moment where you're in public, sitting at a cafe by yourself perhaps, or at the office on your computer, and then something compels you to cry, and you try very hard to resist, but you can't. Your vision becomes blurry with tears and you feel your nose tingling and your ears heating up and you can't stop it. You take deeeeeeep looooong breaths and try to psycho yourself with happy thoughts. You play this mental war game with yourself called "STOP CRYING NOW". But somehow that something that makes you cry just takes over your mind and then you break down.

This one just did that to me.

Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep. This is their mission statement:
To introduce remembrance photography to parents suffering loss of a baby with the free gift of professional portraiture. We believe these images serve as an important step in the family's healing process by honoring their child's legacy.

I typed 'legacy' wrong 15 times because of blurred vision. I couldn't even get pass their mission statement, I don't think I'm strong enough today to read through their stories, I know I'll be breaking down at the end of every sentence.

It's not just breaking down in tears. You have to 'climax'. You know that right? The point-of-no-return where you just decided to let it ALL out. Go vocal if you like. Then after that, you feel better while gasping for breath.

I had to watch Robert Pattinson say funny things to distract me.I will be making several attempts to browse that website again.

Bad Funny Dream

2011-06-09T10:50:00.002+08:00

Last night, in my dream, I saw my miscarried baby. But it was a tiny tiny blob of something. I was looking at it, then IT MOVED!!!!!

IT FUCKING MOVED!!!

AND I FUCKING CRIED!

And then it slowly grew into a baby dinosaur! It was slimy and was trying to walk like a newborn calf.

Maybe it's being reborn somewhere in this world today. As a child of a nice normal sane rich and famous Hollywood celebrity, or producer, or director... of Jurassic Park.

Yes, it must be.

Obedient Wives Club

2011-06-06T11:32:00.004+08:00

I feel lucky to be in Malaysia because I have news like this to make me laugh.

Ultimate shock value.

'Wives can curb social ills like prostitution by being obedient and alluring'

Obedient Wives Club to offer sex lessons on how to pleasure husbands

I gotta hand it to them for being upfront, honest and explicit about this. I can understand from an Islamic point of view/law because Christianity also have similar duty scope of a wife and husband albeit in a more 'loving,reasonable and new age' form. I think it's called The Five Languages of Love, and it is taught in pre-marital courses conducted by churches. It's like a little private guideline to keep your marriage healthy and happy.

But this club's belief and views are absurd beyond jaw-drop. Domestic violence, abuse and social ills are caused by disobedient wives who do not sexually satisfy their husbands?

This is my favourite quote from one of the founders, Dr. Rohaya:
"When husbands come home, wives do not welcome their husbands with warm alluring smiles and sexy dressing ... That is the reality today". Wow, she must've been living in some neverneverland.

Anyway, I expect this coming raya to be more 'sexy', like these Kuih Raya ala Obedient Wives Club.

It Wasn't Meant To Be

2011-05-30T11:28:00.016+08:00

It is called an inevitable miscarriage. By definition, an inevitable miscarriage (or spontaneous miscarriage) is one where the miscarriage is imminent or is in the process of happening.

To me, it was a death sentence for my perfectly healthy unborn 18 weeks baby boy with impeccable heartbeat.

18 weeks. After how hard my body worked to make this little miracle, my body still failed him. From two cells to fingernails, his time came before he could even live.

Miscarriages usually happen in the earlier weeks, way before fingers are even formed. And most miscarriages happen without the mother knowing. They say it’s like a heavy period with clots and cramping. My miscarriage felt like it was an actual childbirth, with an outcome we had to accept. An inevitable outcome.

It started with an urge to poo. At 4am. In Genting Highlands. In our hotel room on the 9th floor. Surrounded by tourists and gamblers. I just wanted to poo. The sensation became stronger and little different. No contractions, no pain, no water breaks, no blood. I sat on the toilet, reminding myself to have a banana later. And then I felt it. Something was somewhere it shouldn’t be. I reached down and felt something membranous filling up my woowoo. That was the membrane bulge from the waterbag, the sentence of the inevitable. Have you ever panicked? This was 100X.

By then, it was already 6am. The boys were still asleep. The husband called for an ambulance as I tried to relax and to resist any bearing down urge. We waited. A minute felt like an eternity. Daniel had woken up and was lounging around, oblivious to the crisis we were in. My mind was in a crisis. A shitload of emotional crisis.

The stretcher team finally arrived. One woman two men team garbed in uniform that looked like police. Daniel felt the crisis. You see, Hollywood taught him that when there is ambulance there is big trouble. He didn’t cry, he was just stunned as everything happened so sudden and fast. As I was lying on the stretcher, I told him calmly, “Daniel, ambulance take Mummy to hospital ok? Because mummy is sick. My stomach hurts. Don’t be scared ok? I’m ok, I will see you later”. With that, he nodded. I wasn’t in pain actually.

I was wheeled to the hotel clinic at ground floor for a quick examination by a very nice young lady doctor who was the first one to utter this word to me. ‘Abortion’. Doctors use this term which is the same as miscarriage. There, medical lesson 101. I asked her what it meant though deep inside I already knew what it was. She said the baby was already coming out and there’s nothing we can do. I lied there, trying to process my thoughts as they tried to process the paperwork fast to get me to the nearest hospital. I tried to dissect and ‘decipher’ that phrase ‘there is nothing we can do’, as if it was a code that actually meant ‘there is hope that your baby will switch to reverse gear and move back inside like a car, and continue growing to become a full term pink mushy little bundle of joy’. I enjoy bullshitting myself like that.

Deciphering the ‘code’ helped me in enduring 40minutes of journey to the hospital. Was it 40 minutes? Who cares. I was in an ambulance, going down the winding Genting road. All ambulances should be GTIs, you know what I mean.The clinic nurse was beside me, observing me throughout the ride, holding the familiar big yellow biohazard waste bag. I resisted any bearing down urge. No way my baby is going into a biohazard bag.

I arrived at Hospital Selayang at about 9am. It is an ‘upper-standard’ government hospital right smack in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t care where I was as long as there were doctors and a bed. At the ER ward, I was checked again. By now I was already bleeding a bit. Bad news. And more bad news. Cervix has dilated. And came the worst news. As I watch my baby’s heart beating away on the ultrasound monitor, it hit me. Has anything hit you so hard that you feel that your spirit is leaving your body? The MOs, oh I love them MOs, earnestly explained to me.

“OK madam, your OS is dilated and you’re going through an inevitable miscarriage now. Since your baby is only 18 weeks, it will not be able to survive when it’s born…” I went deaf after that.

These guys are trained well. They never use the word ‘die’. They say ‘will not survive’. All throughout my stay, all the different MOs had never said the ‘d’ word. Only the cleaner. She said the ‘m’ word.

I was wheeled to the gynaecology ward. Another internal examination. Another scan. That was the last time I saw him. The grainy black and white blurry image of him cozy and snug in my uterus. The lady gynae was also pregnant, far more along than I was. She was nonchalant as she performed her job like any other job. She examined me, read out the diagnosis and treatment to another MO and left. Now I was under the MO’s care. He was nice. He looked like Mark Ruffalo (Just Like Heaven with Reese Witherspoon). Back on my bed, he asked me a series of standard medical history questions and wrote it in a folded A4 paper. Did I mention he was nice? I’d give him A+ for bedside manners. He was sensitive, kind and polite. I was put on ‘conservative management’, meaning I lie in bed and rot naturally. No drugs, no surgery, only painkillers if I needed. They would do nothing to speed up the ‘abortion’ because ethically, my baby was still alive. Doctor Mark Ruffalo told me to just rest and wait. That was the last time I saw Doctor Mark Ruffalo.

And wait I did. A whole lot of waiting. A whole lot of crying in between. 36 hours felt like a week had gone by. Three other MOs came by to repeat the series of medical history questioning. All of them writing in a folded A4 paper. One was a first year MO, and she nervously memorized all my information in front of me, like she was preparing for a slide presentation. And then I understood why she was nervous. The ‘teacher’ doctor and her entourage of MOs were doing rounds at the ward. There were first years, like herself, second years and maybe third years. All crowding around bed by bed.
My turn. I felt like a specimen for show and tell. I was sitting on my bed, actually lounging around in my pink top and sarong. My nervous MO recited my diagnosis and prognosis and all the hoolabaloo while looking at her folded A4 paper intermittently. The first years were paying attention. The rest were lounging around like me. I must be a boring case because at midway, the ‘teacher’ doctor and the final years started talking about distochia (where baby’s shoulder get lodged in the mother’s pelvis thus prolonging childbirth)

Final year MO: Sorry, I’m late. Just now got distochia case.
Gynae guru: * jumping animatedly * REAALLLYY?!!! OH MY GOD! I SHOULD’VE SEEN IT LA!
Final year MO: Big… There was another one.
Gynae guru: SERIOUUUUSSS?!!!
Final year MO: Haaa… took some time to get the baby out. 4kg. Both mother GB.

I sat there, enjoying the medical jargon tennis game. I was chopped liver. But I didn’t care. I was numbed by all the waiting. I just wanted everything to be over. I just wanted to go home. Then they turned to me like I was a boring case. I was told to ‘just rest’.

The body is amazing. It really does work in its own pace and process. My body was doing what it had to do. I felt like it gave me time to say goodbye to my bunnyboy. They say there are 5 stages of grief, and my body was giving me time to go through them. As I lay on the bed, finally accepting reality, I decided to speed things up. I wasn’t scared anymore. I got out of bed and started pacing up and down the aisle. Sir Isaac Newton is a genius. Gravity had somehow ‘pulled’ my membranous bag further down. I could feel it. I alerted the nurse and went back to bed. I was told to push when there’s the urge. But I didn’t feel any urge. This was the hardest part. How can you push when there’s no pushing urge. A final year MO was nice, she stayed by my side and gave me support. She would make a good coach because she kept saying “Very good, very good” and boy that really helped! So I just pushed. A number of MOs came in and out to take a peek. Some were seeing it for the first time, some were just curious. I didn’t care, I was so focused like it was some competitive sport. For one looooong hour, I was so focused. I just pushed. I didn’t care what came out anymore, pee or poo. There was no room for embarrassment. I was tired and delirious. Surprisingly, I felt no contraction, no pain, nothing. Not even the bearing down urge anymore. I just lied there, knees bent, holding my ankles like a yoga pose, and I kept pushing whenever I had the strength and lung power.

On the 7th of April 2011, at 4.25pm, our third son was born. He was still inside the membranous 'pouch'. I think the MO made a slit to 'release' him. My coach asked, “Do you want to see your baby?” At this point, overwhelmed with so much emotions, I panicked. I spent all those hours waiting for this moment and I didn’t plan on whether I would look at him or hold him, or what I would do at this moment. Shit shit shit shit shit. I chickened out. Part of me wanted to hold him so much, but part of me was scared shitless. I felt I won’t be able to handle it. I thought what if the image haunts me for the rest of my life and I get chronic depression and become a nutcase. Seriously, I was afraid that I wasn’t as strong as I believe I am. People say certain visions will psychologically affect you for life. This was a traumatic dilemma. To see my dead baby or not. I wasn’t prepared for this.

“No”, I sobbed harder. My memory of him will remain as the happy little fetus with his heart beating away and his tiny little limbs waving at me. At the same time, I felt so ashamed and guilty. Why can’t I just look at him? He’s my baby! By then, it was too late. He was taken away for a tissue sample test and was wrapped to be ‘collected’ later. Did I mention I was overwhelmed with intense emotions of all sorts and delirious? Did that cause me to make such poor judgement and decision? This would be the biggest regret of my life.

Nature won’t let you off so easily. I still had the placenta to expel. I was given a shot of something to make me contract. Great, back to pushing. Push push push, sob sob sob. A shot of vodka would be nice. Are we there yet? No. Push push push, sob sob sob. Everything went vague after that. I was cleaned up and the privacy curtains were drawn away. Oh hey, I forgot I had 5 other roommates! Who probably heard me sobbing and pushing away like I was in my own private 5 star labour ward. Ah, who cares. Where’s my Doctor Mark Ruffalo? By the way, has anyone seen Shania Twain, I thought I saw her earlier.

That was my drug talking. Way way earlier I had a shot of painkiller when my contractions kicked in. Oh ya, I did feel pain after all. Now, I was woozy. And dreamy. And VERY sleepy. So I slept. I had the knowledge that the hubby came by but all I wanted to do was close my puffy eyes to sleep. I had the best sleep. No emotions, no dilemma, no goodbyes, no guilt. It was like a calm sea after a tumultuous storm. Calm sea indeed because I woke up soaked in my own pee. My muscles were probably still ‘relaxed’ or numb from all that pushing. Oh great, I’ll just go back to sleep in my pee-soaked hospital clothes. I didn’t care anymore. I was glad that it was over. Pee-soaked clothes? Blah, that’s peanuts.

I woke up at 10pm, in time for my dinner that turned cold. I didn’t care. I ate a few spoonfuls of rice and went back to sleep.

I woke up again, at sunrise. The world looked different. I felt different. I stroked my flat belly and tears streamed down my sticky cheeks. I don’t think my eyes have ever been dry since the last scan. I felt the aftermath-calmness. Yes, it was sad and traumatic, but now it felt peaceful. Like I have forgiven myself. The morning was like a usual day at the ward. The nurses did their usual rounds, the cleaner mopped the floor and cleared the toilet bins, my neighbour brushed her teeth, the other patients woke up too and was lounging around, waiting for breakfast. It felt like I just had a bad dream. So surreal. So real, yet it felt unreal.

On the brighter side of things, I got a lot of ‘sympathetic’ treatment from the staff. I’m probably one of the hundreds of miscarriage cases there, but they were still compassionate. Even the cleaner who was grumpy and whiny smiled at me when she passed by my bed. As she was clearing my bin, she said “Baby sudah besar ya”. I smiled back and said “Ya… sayang”. She must’ve seen him. Even the cleaner seen my baby, what kind of mother am I. I closed my eyes and said a soft “Sorry baby”.
By now the husband had arrived and was preparing for my discharge, and arranging for the baby’s ‘departure’ ritual. Apparently, this is a common practice for miscarried fetuses, maybe older ones. There was a special room somewhere for religious servicemen to carry out rites and prayers, after which the body would be cremated and the ashes would be tossed into the sea. All this was done with a small fee. The husband stayed to witness the rituals while I waited at the ward.

I said a prayer of my own. A little prayer to the little one who came into our lives, just like that, and then left, just like that. I earnestly prayed that he is at peace and is in heaven with angels. I prayed for forgiveness and that he won’t be mad at me. I prayed he will have lots of mummies and daddies, brothers and sisters, friends and pets to play with him all day. I prayed he will have all the collections of Transformers, Ben 10, Spongebob Squarepants and Ultraman paraphernalia(just like his brother). I prayed he will be kept warm and snug in bed when he sleeps, I prayed he will wake up smiling everyday to a beautiful crispy morning with yellow birds and blue birds chirping by his window. I prayed he will find joy, warmth and love in the arms of God.

Then the husband came back, bearing frustrating news. Because it was a Friday (Muslim noon prayer), all patients can only be discharged at 3pm, after the pharmacy opens. This applied to me too although I didn’t need any prescription. The nurses knew we were from Johor and was hoping to get back fast, and mainly because the husband was infuriated at the system, I was off the hook. I could finally go home. As I was preparing to leave, my due-to-discharge ward mate softly asked the cleaner why I could go home first and she couldn’t, to which the cleaner replied, “Baby mati”.

Life is funny isn’t it. Who would’ve known that I would be in this exact spot, looking at a hospital ward and listening to those two words uttered about me. It happened. It’s over. We have to mourn and move on. On the way home, I thought about the moment we were surprised by his creation, I thought about the moment we first saw his little mass which grew into a recognizable baby, I thought about his heartbeat, his head, his body, his first kick, then I thought about the unfortunate events which led me here. We didn’t have a name for him yet. Maybe I’ll do it now.

Goodbye Damien, my little bunnyboy. We love you. So so so much.

Here's a little poem I found called The Cord.

We are connected,
My child and I, by
An invisible cord
Not seen by the eye.

It's not like the cord
That connects us 'til birth
This cord can't been seen
By any on Earth.

This cord does it's work
Right from the start.
It binds us together
Attached to my heart.

I know that it's there
Though no one can see
The invisible cord
From my child to me.

The strength of this cord
Is hard to describe.
It can't be destroyed
It can't be denied.

It's stronger than any cord
Man could create
It withstands the test
Can hold any weight.

And though you are gone,
Though you're not here with me,
The cord is still there
But no one can see.

It pulls at my heart
I am bruised...I am sore,
But this cord is my lifeline
As never before.

I am thankful that God
Connects us this way
A mother and child
Death can't take it away!

Author Unknown

Letting It Out

2011-05-18T08:10:00.002+08:00

Lately, I've been hearing about this health issue which involves letting it out. Keeping your anger and sorrows inside is actually detrimental to your physical health. Everybody knows that right? I wonder if I have been 'letting it out'. They say you have to go through the 5 stages of grief in order to heal properly. Did I go through it? I don't know. Maybe I did without realizing it. Maybe I did, by crying every moment I feel like it. I hope I'm doing it right because I don't want to be nutcase down the road where people say "Oh, she didn't let it out".

Daniel's Impressionist Art

2011-05-03T15:43:00.004+08:00

Kids draw the darnest things.

Dan: Mummy, I want the round round biscuit.

Me: What round round biscuit.

Dan: The round round biscuit ah.

Me: Hmm... I don't know what it looks like. Tell me what it looks like. It is big? Small? Black? White?

Dan: Hmm... round, and got chocolate inside.

Me: Hmm... I really don't know what biscuit it that... *turning away from him and checking Facebook on my iPhone*

Ten minutes later, he gives me this.

Can you guess what it is?
.
.
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.
.
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.
.
.
.
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.

HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH!!! I tell you, I gotta hand it to the little guy and his pencil.

ps. the arrows pointing down means chocolate cream comes out when he pushes his finger through.

Sharon Montrose

2011-04-28T15:04:00.003+08:00

I'm a big fan of Sharon Montrose's animal photography.

I planned to order some prints of her baby animals.

For Daniel, born in the year of the Rooster.

For Darren, born in the year of the Tiger.

And for the little bunnyboy who would've been born this year.

That's a nice set isn't it.

Post-miscarriage confinement

2011-04-27T14:59:00.002+08:00

This is harder than I thought, writing about my miscarriage. Too lengthy. What's harder is the post-miscarriage confinement.

If you're Chinese and there was a life growing inside of you, confinement is mandatory.

Confinement is fiiiine. Usually, you just eat special nutritious drunken food, rest and gaze at your newborn sleeping most of the time. But if it's after a miscarriage, it's just special nutritious drunken food, rest and a daily reminder about the unfortunate event. How so?

Everytime I want to drink something, it's not water, it's the red date longan wolfberry herbal drink and it's a reminder of the unfortunate event.

Everytime at dinner, I have to eat the drunken chicken with kilos of ginger, and it's a reminder of the unfortunate event.

Everytime after I shower, I have to dry my hair fast and keep myself warm with leggings and socks, and it's a reminder of the unfortunate event.

Everyday for a month, I get reminded of the unfortunate event.

I'll write my story when I get the mojo.

What the...

2011-04-25T14:54:00.003+08:00

For you Jen.

Alexandra Wallace

2011-03-18T16:12:00.002+08:00

Recently an American blonde ranted about Asians and posted it on YouTube. I tell you, blondes and YouTube always create news.
Taken from nytimes
Alexandra Wallace is the student at the University of California, Los Angeles, who made the three-minute video seen by millions of people on YouTube in which she disparages Asian students for using cellphones in the library to call family members after the tsunami struck Japan.

Actually, I am not responding to her insensitivity. I think this video that Jimmy made is absolutely awesome!!

Have a good weekend peeps!

888GB iPad for RM9.80

2011-03-17T08:05:00.002+08:00

From the The Star papers today:
GEORGE TOWN: In a store here, there is an iPad going for only RM9.80, a 13.3-inch dual-core processor laptop for under RM12 and an iPhone 4 for a mere RM2.

There is one catch, though – while anyone can buy it, only the dead can use it.

Angeli Choo, 43, a Chinese prayer item shop worker in Burmah Road, said paper replicas of electronic items are getting more popular with customers buying prayer paraphernalia for the Qing Ming Festival (Chinese All Souls’ Day).

“Customers want their dearly departed to be able to keep up with the latest in information technology (IT), besides the usual ‘luxury’ offerings of bungalows with maids and security guards, watches, designer bags and gold ingots. The ‘iPad’ even comes with a USB cable for charging and syncing,” she said.

Even the specifications are literally out of this world. While the current largest storage size for iPads in our world is 64GB, the “other world” users are already using iPads with an auspiciously whopping 888GB!

Miniature luxury cars and electrical appliances are also popular items, according to James Ong, a retail supervisor at the Bee Chin Heong prayer item shop in Kimberley Street.

“The Toyota Alphard MPV, BMW 6 Series and Mercedes-Benz S-Class are among the favourites.

“LCD television sets are also in constant demand,” he said, adding that most paper replica products were available within two weeks after the real stuff hit the market.

“Whatever people have and enjoy in real life, they want their departed ones to have,” said Lim Say Saik, a businesswoman who has been in the prayer paraphernalia business for over 20 years.

Families will visit their ancestors’ graves and clean up the tombs during the Qing Ming Festival which falls on April 5.

Lim’s catalogue of paper replica products rivals any hypermarket, with thousands of products in various categories, including food and beverage, clothing, cars, motorcycles, consumer electronics and even boats.

“You don’t have to worry when you die,” she said.

However, no information is available on Internet solutions and pricing for the afterworld.

Perhaps the ancestors will have to figure out their own monthly plans and device commitments.

***
Can you foresee the next headline?

"Dead relative requests to Add Friend on Facebook"

And please can someone start making Volkswagen GTIs?

ps. I respect the underworld, I really do, but I believe they have a sense of humour too... I hope. I apologize if anyone is hurt or offended.

Japanese Moms

2011-03-16T10:47:00.002+08:00

From the news clips, videos and photos of the recent calamity in Japan, have you noticed how calm and composed the Japanese are? I have not seen one image of a person crying dramatically or in extreme distraught like some photos of natural disasters in other regions, those that always appear on the frontpage of newspapers. And they are so prepared and organized!

The day before the earthquake, I was having lunch at a restaurant, and there were two young Japanese moms and their toddlers, one each. Throughout my lunch, I kept glancing over to their table. I WANT TO BE A JAPANESE MOM! I tell you, if you were blindfolded, you wouldn't even know that there are people and kids at the next table.

Japanese stay-home-moms are awesome. And Japanese kids are awesome too. They are so soothing to watch! Imagine this. Fine dining Italian restaurant, OK. Two young ladies, with perfect light make-up, neat hairdo, garbed in pretty attire without any signs of food stains, vomit or drool, waltz in with their little ones in tow. They all settle their kids on the babychairs with minimal fussing and then they take their seats. Next, they go through their menus and make their orders. And then they take out cute lunchbags, and cute lunchboxes and juice cups. They even have a little case for their cute cutlery sets.

They open the lunchbox, and WORMS CAME OUT!! LOL, no lah. I wanted to eat their lunch. One had rice, looks like fried rice with seaweed or something with omelette on top. The other had rice and sauteed diced tomato and carrot. All in cute food containers. While waiting for their order to arrive, the moms feed their toddlers and chat. Very quietly. And the kids, did I mention they are awesome? One was a boy, the other was a girl. And they SAT DOWN AND STAYED THERE FOR MORE THAN 30 MINUTES. Do you know how amazing is that? I would have to administer chloroform to my kids to make them stay in their seats for that long! And noisy does not apply to Japanese kids. All I heard was a whimper or two, that's it.

SO. Spoonful by spoonful, the moms patiently feed their kids. There's no rushing whatsoever like what I see, you know the "C'MON, faster faster, quickly finish your food! EEEAAAAAAT!" Other than pretty clothes and cute lunchboxes, they seem to have all the time in the world. Motherhood and leisure do not come together but for Japanese, they do.

Their salad arrives. They dig in as well. The kids still have some food left, but the moms take their time to feed them. I also notice that they are able to place their lunchboxes IN FRONT of their kids while feeding them. Mine would end up in Kedah. The boy finishes his lunch first, and the mom puts back the little cute fork and spoon into the case, and puts back everything in the cute lunchbag. THE TABLE IS CLEAN. THE BOY'S SHIRT AND PANTS ARE CLEAN. HIS HAIR IS RICELESS. THE FLOOR UNDER HIM IS CLEAN. I wouldn't know what he ate if I didn't see him before this. If you see my kid, you'd know he just had wan tan mee (thank you black sauce). And you know what? He is still sitting on the same seat. Sure there's some fidgeting and movements like any other kid, but he is still at the same place. Do you know how amazing is that?

I will always remember this scene. So calm, so 'together'. And so inspiring. They are just amazing.

No...

2011-03-15T08:19:00.002+08:00

...things are not so good around here. Japan earthquakes, tsunami, radiation leak threats. And I feel like shit. I'm supposed to waltz into the glorious trimester whereby I can eat like anything, have glowing skin and hair, and feel on top of the world, but I feel like shit. Yesterday, I cried because Bumbu Kampung played me out TWICE. I have been craving for their nasi paprik, and nasi campur but I got shit from them. Then the husband came home with chicken rice lunch and it was NOT from my favourite stall.

SHIT you Bumbu Kampung. I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you.
Another time and I'll issue you death threat.

I Left My Heart...

2011-03-10T09:30:00.008+08:00

... at my sewing machine.

I have stopped crafting for about 3 months. And the withdrawal symptom is fatal. But then, I couldn't anyway because my body shuts down by 10pm. I really really miss sewing and stamping, and cutting papers and glueing papers and daydreaming at my craft office.

There's so many things I want to create, you have no idea how horrible it feels to NOT able to. It's like drug to me. How can I deprive my hands of what it's born to do! And with 3 kids in future, I don't know if I will still be able to do what I love. I feel depressed just thinking about this.

In the meantime, here are some of my favourite things.

Echino Car Black, Japanese cotton linen fabric.

Echino Red Scooter, Japanese cotton linen fabric.

Kawaii Pigs Japanese cotton linen fabric.

Natural cotton linen with printed scribblings and drawings.

Bicycle print from ChalkChalk

Do you love stamps? I ABSOLUTELY live for them. It's my favourite hand-printing method so far because of the wide selection of beautiful designs available in the crafting market, and it's so easy!

Can't wait to feel the crafting mojo back.

To My Dear Boys (About International Women's Day):

2011-03-09T08:09:00.002+08:00

It was celebrated yesterday. If you're wondering what it's all about and how it became a special day, here it is.

When: Tuesday 8 March 2011
Where: Everywhere
What: International Women's Day (8 March) is a global day celebrating the economic, political and social achievements of women past, present and future. In some places like China, Russia, Vietnam and Bulgaria, International Women's Day is a national holiday.
Why: Suffragettes campaigned for women's right to vote. The word 'Suffragette' is derived from the word "suffrage" meaning the right to vote. International Women's Day honours the work of the Suffragettes, celebrates women's success, and reminds of inequities still to be redressed. The first International Women's Day event was run in 1911. 2011 is the Global Centenary Year. Let's reinvent opportunity for working women and all women.

Not easy being a woman today, you know. Especially when we're so educated and worldly, yet somehow bound by traditions and cultural values in Asia. Although we work as well, it seems like everything is our responsibility at the end of the day, the household, children and the husband. But I see that changing slowly now. More husbands are sharing more responsibilities at home and with raising the kids.

So, on this day, take a moment to appreciate the women around you :)

Sin-Chia-Pour

2011-03-04T08:16:00.002+08:00

I get the best of both worlds, working in Singapore and living in Malaysia. Everyday, the causeway is the link to my two worlds.
Many people give me the jaw-drop when I tell them I commute daily. It's like hearing that I go through the birth canal everyday. Truth is, it is not as bad. Sure there's a bit of jam here and there, but look at our world now, jam is part of life. I heard people get suffocated getting to work by trains. Anyway, I'm trying to list down what are the things that come to my mind when I think of the country that is paying for my livelihood (I pay tax back ya).

In no particular order of preference:

CLEAN.

Structured and organized in many ways.

PAP wins.

Don't U-turn when there's no U-Turn sign. Calamity ensues.

Taxi drivers honk at other drivers, just because.

Taxi drivers charge the proper metered fare. No more, no less.

Sardine-packed MRTs during peak hour, with rude crazy people who stands near the door and refuse to move inside.

Orchard Road. Christmas lights.

DECLINING birth rate. Always thinking of ways to encourage marriage and babies.

Baby Bonus. Couples get money from government when baby is born.

RISING cost of living.

Everyone has either an iPhone, an iPod or an iPad, in most cases, all three. (Shit I'm one of them!)

Teenagers speak different language.

LOVES Korean drama.

SHOPPING.

Channel 5, Channel 8 and Channel U.

CLASS 95 Morning Show. Flying Dutchman, Glenn and Vernetta are like my morning coffee.

ERP. Beep!

Small country but never seem to run out of space to build condos.

Spotlight and Made With Love. LOVE the crafting shops and community here.

Online shopping. It seems safer and cheaper to get things delivered to Singapore than Malaysia.

Rich Indonesian Chinese tai-tais at Orchard.

Yellow noodles have the funny bitter aftertaste.

Superb dining varieties.

Japanese food is better here, according to the mummy dearest.

Shows, plays, musicals, concerts.

SAFEST city.

My awesome colleagues and friends.

Filipina maids taking dogs for a walk, or ang moh kid in stroller.

Pedestrian crossing. MUST STOP.

Trucks carrying foreign labourers.

Yong Tau Fu stalls exists in almost EVERY food court. Along with chicken rice stalls, economy rice stalls, noodles and dumplings stalls, Indonesian rice stalls, Korean kimchi and bibimbap stalls, Japanese food stalls, and Western food stalls. (for more atas food courts)

Cashcards, NETS and EZLink cards.

The zoo and night safari.

Cable car.

NTUC and Cold Storage.

Takashimaya.

Marks and Spencer.

Toys R Us. Cheaper here.

Will start queuing at 4am to get into Lego shop during special sale.

Will queue.

LASIK.

Salvation Army.

No Plastic Bags Day.

R.O.M. Registration of Marriage. Then buy HDB flat. Then hold banquet. Then have baby. Then play shares and stocks. Then buy condo for investment.

EXPENSIVE rental.

Gay bars.

Gyms.

Fast-paced.

Subaru.

Fancy cars.

Hmm... shopping?

I guess that's about it for now. Feel free to add.

Pregnancy and Bleeding

2011-03-03T08:21:00.007+08:00

Nothing is scarier than seeing blood in the beginning of a pregnancy, whether it's a bit, a lot, fresh red or brown. It is not uncommon, and most of the women go on to have healthy chubby babies with ten fingers and ten toes, and WITH nails.

I had that scare for my first pregnancy. I can't remember which week it started but it was alarming. This kinda thing makes you freeze and not want to move. You just want to lie down and pray hard that you don't feel ANY discharge comin' out of your woowoo, you know, like your period. It is stressful and very worrying.

It went away after a few weeks, almost a month I think. It was just dark brown, like chocolate, and it wasn't much to the extent of soaking up a pad. I remember at one point, at my third month, we went for an emergency check-up at a GP clinic because my gynae's office was closed. For a GP clinic, he had the most hi-tech ultrasound equipment. For the first time, we saw Daniel's scan, CLEARLY (smooth low background noise, high contrast scan) and he was moving his hands to the sides of his head as if to cover his ears. I think he could hear the ultrasound frequency! Also, that was the day we found out that it was a boy. The scan resolution was so good that the doctor could detect two testicles. AT THREE MONTHS! We were impressed. He was honest with us too. He said when there is bleeding of any kind during the first trimester, it is usually diagnosed as threatened miscarriage. Sounds threatening. But as long as the fetus is OK (strong heartbeat), you just gotta hang in there. Crazy times I tell you.

Darren's was ay-okay. NO seeing red. Just the first trimester sickness. You know, the belching, the farting, all those sexy shits.

Fast forward to New Year's Day 2011. The double strip surprise. Then I had an unpleasant surprise the next day. There was a pink discharge, and I knew that was NOT a good sign. So I held my breath. Four hours later that night, there was blood, just like a light period, and I was prepared for the worst.I thought, if I didn't take the test, I would've assumed my period just came late and I wouldn't feel so scared shitless. I imagined I would be cramping soon, but I didn't. Trying to psycho myself that I'm just having a regular period, I went to bed. Maybe it was not meant to be.

The next day, with sweaty palms and supercharged heart rate, I lay on the examination bed as my gynae glided the ulltrasound probe across my lower abdomen to look for a miracle. We didn't see any because it was too early, thus too microscopic to detect. Then, he told me he was going to use the transvaginal ultrasound probe.

TRANS-WHAT?!!!

Yes, the woowoo again. Now this is common in Singapore practice I heard. But I never had it in JB. My previous gynae just told me to come back the next week when the gestational sac is bigger (and to earn more money from every appointments you have). This gynae now, obviously has the hi-tech one. I asked, "Do you really have to?". Yes. It is crucial to locate the site of implantation. Just in case it is ectopic (fertilized egg implanted at the Fallopian tube instead of the uterus, and this can cause major complications). So, very quickly, a sheet of condom was stretched over the probe which is probably as thick as an Ayamas sausage. And then no prize for guessing where it'll go. It wasn't that bad actually. Not painful at all. Just the initial mental discomfort. The little beginning of life was where it is supposed to be. IN my uterus. Good.

Back to the bleeding part. I stopped having the period-like bleeding actually. But nevertheless, it happened. I was given MC for 3 days and on it, written, threatened miscarriage, a familiar term to me. Fine. So the next week, and two weeks forward, and more weeks down the line, I had my follow-ups religiously, and the little life grew as it should be. A sac became a fetal pole with heartbeat, a fetal pole became an embryo, an embryo became a fetus, and just last week, it looked like a fully formed baby, with legs and arms, at 13 weeks. How amazing!

But I still see chocolate. It had stopped for few days but it always came back. And although I've had this experience, it is still worrying, but not as much as if it is the first time. We don't really know the cause, but from Mr. Google, I thought it could be subchorionic hematoma, gathering of blood between the membranes of the placenta and the uterus, or a blood clot in the uterus. That could be the reason why I'm discharging it slowly. And there's nothing you can do about it. All I can do now is minimize walking, carrying Darren and stop gymnastics. And I hope soon, the only chocolate I see is from my Cadbury pack.

I hope this is informative for those who are experiencing bleeding in their first trimester. It is no doubt very frightening but whatever will be, will be. Keeping an open and accepting mind is important. Like Daniel mooning at me that day -_-

Darren is One...

2011-02-25T08:08:00.002+08:00

...this Sunday!

He has 6 teeth. You can't see the 4 upper teeth unless you do the facelift on him.

He climbs stairs. And the couch. And to the TOP of the couch.

He took his first two steps last night. It was surreal.

He points to wherever he wants to go or whatever he wants.

He LOVES food. And remote controls. And phones.

He puts his hand onto his ears like a phone when you say Hello?Hello?

He opens and closes his palm when we say Bye Bye!

He does a mild head-bang when he hears catchy music and when we say Dance Dance!

He loves to smile.

He is ticklish.

He enjoys going out. ANYWHERE out of the house.

He looks adorable when he cries.

He adores his big brother. It is mutual.

He is absolutely a charm.

Happy Birthday sweetiepie.

The Send-Me-To-Outer-Space Stick

2011-02-22T09:12:00.007+08:00

This thing here is probably one of the few inventions in the world that has never failed to wreak a woman's nerves (and her man), whether it is a wanted or an unwanted outcome.
Do you remember collecting your SPM results? Or STPM results? Or receiving your acceptance/rejection letter to your University of choice? THIS is 100x more exhilarating and scary. It is THE examination result of your entire life! My heart had beaten so fast and hard that it thrusted out of my chest cavity ala Alien.

You know these things are so fast these days. In the instruction leaflet, it says wait for at least 3 mortal minutes. But in reality, the line becomes visible within nano-minutes. They're like GTI sticks! Before your heart even have the chance to launch itself out ala Alien, you will be able to see emerging line(s). Just like checking online Magnum4D results on your iPhone.

Now, your man was probably next to you the whole time but you never notice him. Your mind is SO focused on the stick that you don't want to see any other sticks at the moment.

This stick has given me some of my best and not-so-best memories. But I tell you one thing for sure, no matter what you felt then, after 9 months, it is THE best outcome you will ever experience.

Where is it where is it.

2011-02-17T08:29:00.004+08:00

He'd be sitting on the floor and we'd be playing around him, rolling balls and pushing toy cars to him. A ball or a car would roll over under the TV console and then he would crawl fast towards it and halt to this position.

Where is it?

Where is it?

Happy End of Lunar New Year

2011-02-16T07:38:00.006+08:00

Year of the Bunny-Wunny will bring peace and luck. That's what I feel because bunnies are peaceful pets and they are the luckiest zodiac sign, so they say. We ushered in the new year in JB again this year because of my ahem.. delicate condition. It was fabulous. I had the greatest reason to NOT do anything. And I was blessed with an abundance of good food cooked by my talented sister-in-law and my grandmother.

We mostly stayed home, enjoying the cool breezy evenings around our street.

FOUR generations on the same chair. Now THAT's radical.

It's nice to be home during the CNY :)

To My Dear Boys (About School Bullies and Suicides):

2011-02-10T09:53:00.008+08:00

It's no joke. I get very disturbed when I hear or read news about youngters' suicides. It is a mother's greatest fear and sorrow. If one of you EVER do it, I swear on my beloved sewing machine that I will carbon-monoxide myself, hunt you down and wallop your cranium to pieces.

Really, it's no joke.

Suicide is still a rather sensitive topic despite its increase of late. No one wants to talk about it openly, and I think that is not helping the society at all. Like everything else, kids need to be educated on this. And like everything else too, a lot of factors lead kids to this path. One of them is school bullies.

They come in many forms. Most of them, without the horns and tail. But boy, are they devious. These soul-snatching asswipes are the mother's worst enemies. SO, please don't be a bully, or I swear I will wallop your cranium to pieces, and burn all your comic books. But if you are victimized by one, God help me, I will form a tribunal to bring 'em down. I told you I get very disturbed.

OK, I think there are mainly two forms of school bullies. First, the physical type. They use physical intimidation. They may or may not be bigger and chunkier than you but they have bigger guts. They DARE to wallop you. This, I can't help you. You can either fight back verbally with your brains but I reckon they won't understand, being ninkampoops that they are. But I'll let you in on something. I heard that once you fight back with gusto, they stop bullying you immediately. I have also heard of this advice given by a father to his son, "Don't fight, try to avoid it if you can, but if you gotta fight, you must win".

Second, the mental type. Ooohhh, this one is the real killer. They may hurl you words that sting and damage your self-esteem and confidence. They may make fun of you in front of the entire class, they may spread embarrassing stories or lies about you. And worse spread them on Facebook. Of course this is worst case scenario. I believe things won't get this bad. If it does, let me know. Another tribunal.

I end this with a quote.

First they ignore you,
then they laugh at you,
then they fight you,
then you win.
- Mahatma Gandhi

To My Dear Boys (A Little Surprise)

2011-01-31T12:51:00.004+08:00

I felt like I broke a promise to blog more this year. Well, your dad and I had a little surprise on New Year's Day that sent me on an emotional roller coaster ride. That little surprise is now 9 weeks 3 days old, 1 inch long, and has a heartbeat of 160bpm. And that little surprise is also making me feel sick. So here we go again, the nausea, the reflux, the excessive salivating, the affinity to my bed and the whole caboodle of first trimester nightmare. Why can't I just skip to the part where I eat like a cow.

But this is the most important part I want to tell you. So please remember ok?

I will love you both as much as I have always been, if not, more.
There will be some trying times when I need to concentrate on one of you only, but trust me, your place is forevermore secured in my heart until the day it stops beating. No, no, even AFTER it stops beating.

OK? Luv ya heaps.

To My Dear Boys (About Women):

2011-01-13T09:29:00.009+08:00

There will come a time in your relationship when your lady gets a little.... well, psychotic. To you, she is psychotic, but to a woman, she is tormented like a crab in boiling water. And the reason could be due to YOU not hugging her enough, and 328 other factors.

I don't know why, but women are complex creatures. At some point in our lives, not ALL the time, we fight with our inner-monster. It's like we have this complexity quota to achieve in our estrogenic lifetime. I, too, went through a psychotic phase with your dad. And strangely, I don't remember why. Well, could be due to him not hugging me enough and 328 other factors. And strangely also, I KNEW I was being crazy but I just couldn't control or snap out of it. But most of the time, after the phase has passed, I'd feel stupid. Childish, possessed, illogically stupid. And I'd end up with this, "Why oh why did I create a misery for myself".

So, just cut her some slack. She probably just wants you to rub her feet and say things like "Baby, I'm sorry I can't make things better, but just want you to feel better. Everything will be okay soon, I promise". Because almost always, it does.

Remember, a hug a day keeps the demoness away.

Where Am I

2011-01-12T10:34:00.002+08:00

For the longest time, I've wanted this blog to mean something. It doesn't have a clear strong category. It's not about fashion, beauty, cooking, gadgets or cars. It's a bit about here and there, on kids, life and my crafting hobby. But no clear stand. I think a lot of blogs started out like this.

I'm going to start a series of letters to my children. Letters that tell them about the world we are in now, the world that they are growing up in. I hope these letters will also give them an insight into what their mother is like at her prime of her life. A lot of children don't know what their parents were like. I see my parents as they are now, as old people who are sometimes naggy, irrational and 'weird' but I'm sure they were not like this when they were our age now. I'm sure they were also active, spontaneous, fun, witty and full of positive energy and hope at the prime of their lives. But as little kids, we don't see it.

I hope when they are adults, this is one of the ways I can reach out to them. *dramatic orchestral music plays*

I end this post with a quote by Angela Schwindt,

While we try to teach our children about life,
Our children teach us what life is all about.

My 2010

2011-01-06T13:21:00.005+08:00

1. I had a baby.

2. I had another baby.

Poh kai.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

2010-12-23T17:17:00.002+08:00

I love my typewriter, my fabric collection, my stamps and my sewing machine.

Artistic Parenting

2010-11-30T07:45:00.003+08:00

Do you know who is Jason Schwartzman? Do you know his actress mother Talia Shire? Me neither. I don't really care. But what got my attention was what I read about what he said on a radio interview, plucked from this blog.

"But, at a young age, what I really did witness, because she never forced it upon us, but I witnessed how movies and music can be nutritional, I guess, to a person. I would come home from school; she would always be downstairs with an old movie on. Every room in our house had a different book open, face down. There would be music on in one room, even though she wouldn't be in it, and she would kind of just go from room to room and pick up and read and go and listen and go downstairs and watch. She needs that. It's still the same way. If you go to my house, the same house I grew up in, she's there with movies on, music playing and books everywhere. And so I witnessed how important these things can be to you."

I guess you can't really teach art to your children, they have to witness it!

Since I became a mother, my world changed. My priorities changed, my perspective changed, and even things that upsets me or stresses me out changed, like when I lose my phone, I go "Heck, what's a phone anyway, I have a baby to NOT lose for the rest of my life!". And then comes the essence of my role as a mother.

What kind of parent would I want to be?

I'm not talking about disciplining and stuff, but yes, they do matter, but by and large, it's the things you want to teach them without teaching them. Imagine, your entire life is part of their education! So, I want to be a little bit like Talia Shire.

My boys will one day look back at all the stuff I had made at my little craft office at home and that will be their memory of me. How beautiful is that!

New CIQ, New Bridge

2010-11-26T10:36:00.006+08:00

Me is impressed with government of Johor.

I took the bus into Singapore for two days just this week. It was my first time stepping into the shining new CIQ building and it feels like an airport! Law enforcers were patrolling the area, custom officers were always standing by to render assistance, cleaners are cleaning... and guess what I saw at the reception counters, help desks, customs&quarantine counters and whatever other counters they have there... guess, guess... give up? PEOPLE! There were actual people manning these counters all the time. In uniform, courteous, prim and proper, all ready to take you seriously if you need help. Awesome shmawesome.

There's another difference I noticed in these two days. The commuters, the crowd. They seem to be more civilized now. Even the labour workers who used to push, shove, cut queue, and spit. I used to think that these group of men are exactly like simple organisms with simple brain function, which is to get to their destination regardless of ANYthing in their way. Maybe there are still these 'organisms' around but I didn't see them at all :)

Another thing also about the crowd, are the ladies! Boy are they getting fancier and fancier! In fact I felt inspired to dress up. Last time you'd think twice wearing a mini skirt because some lowlife organism shoving and pushing to get into the bus might leer at you and undress you with his eyes. But it's so different now. You won't feel so visually violated anymore. More girls are wearing fakelashes and they have big eyes like Japanese lolitas, something along that line. I felt like I was in Hong Kong!

On the way to City Square, I peeked out and saw that the new bridge has finally opened for use.

*harps playing*

Everyday I pray for better days ahead, for everyone. Amen.

Company D&D

2010-11-26T09:55:00.002+08:00

Me is a fairy.

Making Some Love

2010-11-10T08:23:00.001+08:00

The Korean Kiss

2010-11-03T10:13:00.004+08:00

We all love to watch a good kissing scene, don't we?

Lee Min-Ho, you had a lot of girls (and dudes) swooning at this scene in Personal Taste. Yes, the hubbie and I have been keeping our nights busy with Korean drama (men secretly enjoys these kinda rom-com shit). After this kiss scene, and not breathing for 2 minutes, I turned to the husband and said "How come you never kiss me like that".

I am impressed. I mean, in Korean dramas, the kissing scene ALWAYS sucks, literally. Their lips touch and then they become kayu. They freeze, with eyes closed, lips together, awkwardly. My 5 year-old can do better. I dunno man, are Asian actors still a bit conservative and shy to really kiss onscreen? Ang moh actors different, they play tonsil-tennis like hi-five. We cannot compare porn stars and chaste virgins. So, really, I think the Korean drama industry has come a long way. Now, we can look forward to the lead characters having sexual relations like what real humans do.

Pucker up!

ps. The OST for this drama totally rocks!

Wassup

2010-10-28T08:27:00.002+08:00

Influx of foreign workers into Singapore to fill in positions like bus drivers, cashiers, customer service personnels etc..

...leads to

Overcrowded sardined MRT trains during peak hours...

...leads to

More locals buying cars to travel...

...leads to

Heavier road traffic everywhere.

And then LTA decides to hike up ERP. Sometimes I pity the Singaporeans. The government seem to be herding them to a little corner and extort protection money from them or something. Malaysia not any better. Did you hear about the clown who said they don't need the Chinese and Indian votes to win? Way to go, Datuk Jo. We will always be in this race battle because faeces and humans cannot communicate.

To Those Who Has Left This Year

2010-10-13T10:55:00.004+08:00

I dedicate this post to those whose lives meant something in one way or another in this world.

To my colleague's close friend who succumbed to cancer, leaving behind 3 young children.

To the newlywed blogger who was battling cancer and succumbed.

To the little big-eyed baby with congenital complex heart defects, who brought short-lived joy to his parents, particularly his adorable blogger mom.

To my schoolmate's 2 year-old daughter who had pneumonia.

To the 4 day-old infant who lost her life from a monkey attack.

To the lives lost in the North-South highway tragedy on 10.10.10.

We all came into this world in one way. But we leave this world in many possible ways.

This is a horrid year. I just want to hide under the covers and cry. My heart goes out to the parents, and close family and friends of these lives who didn't stay long but nonetheless had permanently etched a place in their hearts.

May their souls rest in peace.

Das Auto- The Golf GTI Test Drive

2010-10-06T08:02:00.012+08:00

I'm NOT a car enthusiast. Never was. Then I had viral fever for 5 days and I woke up one morning with an urgency to trade in my champagne Latio for a Volkswagen Beetle. Must be VW virus.

Beetle has been my dream. Not a serious dream. I was always flirting with the fantasy of owning one someday. Ah, me and my Beetle.

So, the VW virus hit me. I was serious now. The husband whisked me off to F A Wagen at Danga Bay for a Beetle test drive. And test drive I did. When I got into the car, I could see my reflection in the glass shopfront and it made me smile. Hubbie next to me, Daniel sitting behind quietly most of the time and the VW rep doing his sales talk. Then we drove off, no more reflection or mirrors to admire myself in a Beetle. Oh bummer.

One thing's for sure, the car feels heavy. The steering wheel feels heavier. SOLID. Other than that, it drives like a regular car. In fact my Latio felt lighter and easier to manoeuvre around town. All I remember is just feeling high from the fact that I was driving a Beetle. Of course, the 'high' will eventually fade off. And I'll be left with a powerless car for the next few years at least. My conclusion is, Beetle is a cosmetic car. I want to look at it more than I want to drive one. Wouldn't make sense if I spend so much time on the road wouldn't it. Sigh......strike.

Then I got really serious. I strolled over to the new Golf GTI in the small 3-car showroom. I gingerly brushed my fingers along the sides of the body and boy it feels serious. SERIOUS FUN. The specs are impeccable. Not that I understood them. Automotive terminology is beyond me. "140 PS 200Nm", "peak torque from a very low rev range – 240Nm is sustained between 1,750rpm to 4,500rpm, with torque dropping to 200Nm between 4,500rpm to 6,000rpm" WHAT THE HELL ARE THOSE? The only thing I could relate to was "0-100km/h in 6.9 seconds". Still, I don't see that as crucial. I care about the little things that make life easier in a car. The general drivability, visibility, the reachable knobs and turns, the compartments, the practical things, you know. And yeah yeah, maybe occasionally I'd feel feisty on the second link, the 0-100km/h in 6.9s sprint would be lovely. I'd have the turbo power when I want it. OH. SO. NAUGHTY AND NICE.

"How much?"

"RM209,888"

I flew out of the showroom and was never seen again. *imagined*

HOW CAN?! Way out of my budget. I will NEVER spend that kind of money for sprinting. My kids will have to live on tap water and weeds. No way.

And then the hubbie says that there is a pre-owned GTI for sale, at the used cars lot just further down the road, and that we should go for a test drive. I don't know who was more excited, me or him.

Fast-forward to Monday evening after dinner, we waited with bated breath. Daniel joined in the excitement as well. All buckled up, the hubbie drove first. As we exit the second link toll, I placed my palm on Daniel's chest as a get-ready gesture. True enough, the hubbie stepped on it and gave us the shove-into-the-seat-and-pick-up acceleration thrill. Macam roket turbo.
My heart skipped a beat, as if I was on a roller coster, I'm chickenshit like that.

It was surprisingly quiet, even with the turbo, super charger and everything working its magic. There was no rugged-ahbengness loud bangs and jolts which would put me off. It was gentle yet I felt its unassuming power, even from the backseat. Ahhh... now we're talking. It's going to be a family car as well. Not only does the driver gets to enjoy the car, backseaters should enjoy the ride equally. Daniel thought it wasn't that bumpy, but I did. Almost as bumpy as the Latio. And the backseat is not soft like a regular family sedan. It's not something you would want to curl up in, that's for sure. Those were minus points for me.

Then came my turn to drive the bitch. How should I say this. It was.... effortless. Like if I step on my Latio the usual way, it moves right? But this baby moves like 100x faster! It's like Hot Wheels vs pasar malam toy car. I enjoyed driving the GTI immensely. After 15 years of Proton and Japanese cars, for the first time, I felt the European's power to awe. Volkswagen, you had me at 150km/h. Effortless, quiet and breathtaking.

The exhilaration left me tired after that! Gosh, I'm getting too old for this sort of excitement! Maybe the GTI is a bit too advanced for me. And RM160K for a pre-owned (pre-tekan-kao-kao-ed, pre-abused, pre-pushed-to-the-max) car is a bit too steep. I entered the $$$ dimension in my mind and it was scary to think about the heavy monthly commitments I will have to bear. Will it be the worth it? What if the unseen parts inside are leaking and worn out?! I'm not paying for trash!

Lo and behold. The hubbie had a better idea. An advice from a GTI owner friend of his actually. With the same amount of moolah, I should get the new Golf 1.4 TSI. Same body, powered by 160PS TSI twincharged engine and 7-speed direct shift gearbox DSG. Now what's all this shit car jargon. Car experts, look away.

160 PS refers to the horsepower, historically used to compare the output of steam engines with the power of draft horses. The GTI gives you about 200 horsepower.
DSG=Double-clutch engine that allows for virtually seamless gear changing.

I think that was the gist. Although it's a 1.4 liter (lower road tax yay!), it's got power that puts the >2.0 liters to shame! Nee ner nee ner neee ner.

Back to the test-drive. I drove the baby back to the lot. I was still exhilarated. Panas! Then the hubbie and the sales rep talked for a bit, inspected the GTI' exterior by walking around it 50 times bla bla bla. I had enough for the night. Daniel too. I don't know if it's just Daniel, but kids are so innocent and funny!

Me: So, is the car powerful?

D: Yah.

Me: *smiles* You like?

D: *nods*

Me: You like the car?

D: *nods*

Me: Why?

D: Because behind got aircon. ( he was referring to the extra air conditioning vent that blows the backseat passengers )

LOL.

After saying our thank-yous and goodnights, we drove home in my masak-masak Latio. I didn't feel like I was in a car. It felt like... an elevator.

I dunno man. A lot to think about after dehydration from drooling. Have you ever heard me rave about cars before? I'm impressed, that's all I can say.

Update: Ordered the new Golf 1.4 TSI. *gulp*

ShitMyDadSays

2010-10-01T10:51:00.002+08:00

No, not my dad. Justin Halpern's dad.

Taken from this site.
After being dumped by his longtime girlfriend, twenty-eight-year-old Justin Halpern found himself living at home with his seventy-three-year-old dad. Sam Halpern, who is “like Socrates, but angrier, and with worse hair,” has never minced words, and when Justin moved back home, he began to record all the ridiculous things his dad said to him:

"Pick your furniture like you pick a wife: It should make you feel comfortable and look nice, but not so nice that if someone walks past it they want to steal it."

"Do people your age know how to comb their hair? It looks like two squirrels crawled on their heads and started fucking."

"The worst thing you can be is a liar....Okay, fine, yes, the worst thing you can be is a Nazi, but then number two is liar. Nazi one, liar two."

This one is my favourite:
"Look, we're basically on earth to shit and fuck. So unless your job's to help people shit or fuck, it's not that important, so relax."

More than a million people now follow Mr. Halpern’s philosophical musings on Twitter, and in this book, his son weaves a brilliantly funny, touching coming-of-age memoir around the best of his quotes. An all-American story that unfolds on the Little League field, in Denny's, during excruciating family road trips, and, most frequently, in the Halperns' kitchen over bowls of Grape-Nuts, Sh*t My Dad Says is a chaotic, hilarious, true portrait of a father-son relationship from a major new comic voice.

Have a good weekend!

Joker Is His Name

2010-09-29T09:51:00.003+08:00

He sure puts a smile on your face, even while you dial his number.

Penang Weekend

2010-09-28T15:36:00.008+08:00

Nothing beats Penang's signature food, that I can say for sure. First chance you get when you touch down, go for the kill.

Ai sey man. Sorry. Sudah sapu habis.

I tell you, they have magic wok. Or magic fingers. Whatever it is, the food taste like magic.

Poor boy, survived only on water and dim sum.

And who say you can give Kek Lok Si a pass. No, you must go there.

They are building a beautiful bronze Goddess of Mercy at the hill. It's like she is overlooking the whole island and protecting it.

You can also make a donation and have your name written on one of the roof tiles that will be used in the massive construction.

And we're back. Oh, did I mention we were actually in Penang for my cousin's wedding? Hahahaha. I think wedding banquets in Penang should start serving char kuey teow, or chien, rojak and prawn noodle so that guests from out of town will ALWAYS remember the wedding!

Burrrrp.

Daniel Sings...

2010-09-14T13:48:00.002+08:00

Old McDonald had a farm,
Ee-yai-ee-yai-yo,
And on his farm he had a MUMMY,
EE-yai-ee-yai-yo,

(I was waiting what sound MUMMY a.k.a. mua makes)

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

NO NO here, and a NO NO there,
Here NO there NO, everywhere NO NO,
Old McDonald had a farm,
Ee-yai-ee-yai-yooooooo.

So, how would YOU sound like?

Ma' Boyz

2010-09-02T10:03:00.003+08:00

Two little baby feet sticking out from under the walker=cute

Brotherly eyebrows=cute

Fat fingers with dimples and folds at the wrist=cute

Vintage-looking stroller=cute!

OH, I'm dizzy in love.

What Have We Done

2010-08-26T17:12:00.003+08:00

Dear Little One,

We are sorry you never got to see the world.

We are sorry you never got to see a mother’s smile and her tears of joy for the first time, to hear her coo and sing you a lullaby, and to feel her warm fingers surrounding yours.

We are sorry millions of people saw grisly photos your little lifeless body in places a baby shouldn’t be.

We are sorry your only memory about life is the cold hard floor.

We are sorry you never got to make friends, to learn how to read, to find love, to dream and to achieve it.

We are sorry your life ended even before you could stand up for yourself.

We are sorry we did not enforce enough laws to protect you.

We are sorry we have been so busy with our lives that we fail to see that we all play a part in this society to raise a new compassionate generation with good sense and values.

We are sorry that in this era of information and advanced media, we fail to see that our children need our guidance more than ever before.

We are sorry we fail to see that the most important sex education begins at home, with open-minded, honest, accepting and loving parents.

We are sorry we are not taking enough responsibility to teach and to reach out to our children.

We are sorry we have failed you, little one, when you have done nothing, nothing at all.

Read baby dumping news here

Project Playhouse

2010-08-25T10:17:00.007+08:00

These days, not many homeowners in Malaysia get to own and enjoy a garden. Especially more and more city folks in KL who are living in apartments. Even elsewhere, existing garden plots are cemented off to convert into more parking space ( one-household-two cars concept ). Morever, a garden is hard to keep when you don't have the time to maintain it. It needs work and love for it to grow.

I'm lucky enough to have a garden. An unkept one. And so I browsed for some garden landscape design and I decided I want this one.

But after some hardcore complex mathematics calculation, I figure the measurements doesn't tally because I only have this much of plot to work on.

Shucks.

So my search narrowed to "SMALL garden landscape design". And you know one thing led to another.

I want to build a playhouse now!

So my search has deviated to "how to build a playhouse". Lo and behold, I never thought a fancy one like this would cost almost USD20K, from Lilliput.

I think these are ready-made and assembled for you upon order or something. They also provide kits, and parts and plans for the more adventurous who wants to build it themselves.

Too fancy. I want a kampung hut style.

Tactfully, I brought this up to the busy husband. Expecting to be called crazy, he took a look at my pencil sketched plan, thought about it for a few seconds and said, "Can do". Woo hoo!!

It will take some time, and a LOT of work, but it will be so fun as a family project! Daniel can participate and see the building process and appreciate it even more. I don't know how we can pull this off, but at least it is a plan.

Daniel Doodles

2010-08-23T09:20:00.004+08:00

I gave this little blank notebook to Daniel when he was 3.5 yrs old, just for fun ( actually I wanted to throw it away as useless trash). But what I got back was pure delight. He draws and doodles on it whenever he felt like it. And I'm always amazed at how kids put their imagination and impressions on paper.

Pig and pig-bunny hybrid going on a date (L). Super pig (R).

A girl with painted toenails.

Snails.

Someone with mascara holding a cellphone., probably breaking up with her boyfriend.

His recent impression of a tornado. I thought this was awesome.

Now this was the mother of all art, to me. After he drew this recently, I asked him, "Oooh, mummy love Daniel?". Without a blink, he said " No, this is Daniel love mummy"

I turned into a pile of mush. This is why we have kids.

Causeway Bridge Akan Datang

2010-08-23T09:14:00.002+08:00

Lock Up Your Daughters

2010-08-17T09:54:00.001+08:00

Funny T-shirt. I told him to put on "evil bad guy" look.

Parenting is not for the Selfish.

2010-08-12T10:50:00.007+08:00

Someone I know recently proclaimed that she has decided not to have children of her own. As a parent, I tried to debunk her impressions, that it's not all that bad as it sounds, and of course, the immense joy, love and blablas. But somehow, amidst the soft debate, part of me supported her decision. A part of me was saying "Yeah, you go girl. Go travel, go see things we mothers of young children would never have time to see, go for food adventures that we mothers would not have the chance to go for because 'little James don't take spicy', go for that movie we mothers can't bring our kids to because it's PG13, I mean, just go man, go!"

But there are more than that. Children not only restrict your lifestyle (in fact they change it entirely), raising them is no longer as easy as what it used to be 30 years ago. Yes, the world has changed. Melamine was found in infant formula. What else? Plenty.

Parenting is, really, a matter of perception and expectations. It is a love-hate relationship. Sounds familiar? I love my kids to death but sometimes I just want them to vanish for awhile!
The difference is this. Happy positive parents focus on the love part, therefore, parenting is a joy and all heartwarming stuff. Stressed up unhappy parents sees the hate more than anything else, therefore parenting is shit and tiring. Nonetheless, it is a tiring job. And it. Never. Ends. It's FOR life.

So, for those of you who are childless and/or decided to be free, here's something that might reinforce your stand.
All Joy and No Fun : Why Parents Hate Parenting.

It's a loooong read. But a good read. For me, I'd choose this journey all over again.

Happy Weekend y'all!

Justified Expenses

2010-08-10T10:49:00.002+08:00

I almost bought an iMac AND an iPad.

Just because.

But the Goddess of Reasoning whispered to my beautiful ears, "Honey, you don't need those. You Apple whore." So I decided not to.

And the most amazing thing happened after that. I found justification to buy other things! The Goddess says to me "Go ahead, buy this shirt, you saved $2500, so what is $19.90? That's right, take that debit card out." Suddenly, spending $19.90 on a stupid shirt isn't stupid anymore.

I also got my camera fixed. I miss my compact Ixus. I could carry it everywhere and could at least snap pictures of the recent active road developments in JB while stuck at jams, and share it here. But the lens are stuck in a jam too. $230 to replace lensa. But it's justified!

Also... don't tell Daniel I got him the UberMegaCool Electronic Buzz Lightyear with laser lights, voiceover and retractable wings.

I'm such bad influence on myself.

Causeway Bridge Bila Siap

2010-08-06T09:00:00.003+08:00

Dear Contractors and the Board of Decision-Makers & Executioners of the JB-Singapore Causeway Bridge Project,

Don't be asswipes. Are your ears itching a lot lately? That's because hundreds of commuters are hurling insults at you guys every morning. If you are facing hiccups at the construction which is slowing it down, fine, we understand, hiccups happen. But please provide a better alternative road, one which is not riddled with potholes because this causes vehicles ie. the swarm of motorcycles, cars and buses altogether to tremendously crawl like babies who are just starting to learn how to crawl.

If you don't like to be stuck in a bottleneck jam, don't be the cause of it. You asswipes.

Sincerely,
Thank-God-for-iPhones

Deja Vu

2010-08-02T10:55:00.002+08:00

I'm a photostat machine.

Daniel, 2005

Darren, 2010

Same cheeks, same chin, same double-chin. But somebody's wee-wee is smaller, I can't say whose. Ngiah ngiah ngiah. This evil mother can say "DO YOUR HOMEWORK OR I'LL TELL YOUR FRIENDS WHO'S GOT THE SMALLER L**J***!"