Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Wednesday, November 03, 2010
The Korean Kiss
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!
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Wassup
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.
...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.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
To Those Who Has Left This Year
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 06, 2010
Das Auto- The Golf GTI Test Drive
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*
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*
Friday, October 01, 2010
ShitMyDadSays
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!
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!
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Penang Weekend
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.
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.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Daniel Sings...
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?
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?
Thursday, September 02, 2010
Ma' Boyz
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.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
What Have We Done
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
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Project Playhouse
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.
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.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Daniel Doodles
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.
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.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Parenting is not for the Selfish.
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!
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!
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Justified Expenses
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.
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.
Friday, August 06, 2010
Causeway Bridge Bila Siap
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
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
Monday, August 02, 2010
Deja Vu
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***!"
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***!"
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Minus One
For the 10th time, I was staring at the blank box on my blog post. Why is it that when I had many interesting things to share, I could never do it here. It's always a blank space. Should I or shouldn't I. I directed my expressions on Facebook for a while, particularly after getting an iPhone. By the way, it's total awesomeness the iPhone.
But it's not enough. It's great for sharing photos and short concise expressions like "Gosh I'm so tired so busy!" or "Daaamn, I look good", but not interesting funny or sad stories that need more story-telling drama like I love to do.
On FB, you can never tell the whole story. And because of that, misinterpretations can lead to a hurtful and an emotional confrontation.
And the loss of an old friendship.
But it's not enough. It's great for sharing photos and short concise expressions like "Gosh I'm so tired so busy!" or "Daaamn, I look good", but not interesting funny or sad stories that need more story-telling drama like I love to do.
On FB, you can never tell the whole story. And because of that, misinterpretations can lead to a hurtful and an emotional confrontation.
And the loss of an old friendship.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Lovin' It
It feels good when you make a decision that feels right. It's funny when you feel good, everything seems to look brighter!
I decided to to be a stay-home mom.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
... until mid June. I will lose 2 months worth of salary and my bonuses will be pro-rated. But it feels worth it, on many levels.
I have learnt and understood my baby's cues better nowadays and that gives me a lot more confidence now. I know he gets more hungry before his bedtime, so I increase his intake and feed him at a shorter interval so he can sleep longer at night. I know his cry is different when he's hungry or when he's sleepy. I know his favourite napping spot on the couch. Babies aren't that scary if you know their 'pattern'!
A couple of weeks ago, I felt different. I was unsettled, a bit down and jaded. Why did I have another baby? Why did I have to follow the social norm of having at least two children. My life was perfect before this. Daniel was an independent kid, I had a great helper who did all the housechores, I had ample time doing the things I love which was sewing and crafting, I had my etsy shop to run, everything was just so fantastic. It made me decide that I wasn't a baby person. I wanted to pass baby to someone else to look after until he's like 2, the fun age. Is this a normal feeling? It could be. Some say it is a natural initial feeling. Now, I think it was just some crazy phase. All I want now is to BE with baby and watch him grow.
My wide-eyed little charm.
I decided to to be a stay-home mom.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
... until mid June. I will lose 2 months worth of salary and my bonuses will be pro-rated. But it feels worth it, on many levels.
I have learnt and understood my baby's cues better nowadays and that gives me a lot more confidence now. I know he gets more hungry before his bedtime, so I increase his intake and feed him at a shorter interval so he can sleep longer at night. I know his cry is different when he's hungry or when he's sleepy. I know his favourite napping spot on the couch. Babies aren't that scary if you know their 'pattern'!
A couple of weeks ago, I felt different. I was unsettled, a bit down and jaded. Why did I have another baby? Why did I have to follow the social norm of having at least two children. My life was perfect before this. Daniel was an independent kid, I had a great helper who did all the housechores, I had ample time doing the things I love which was sewing and crafting, I had my etsy shop to run, everything was just so fantastic. It made me decide that I wasn't a baby person. I wanted to pass baby to someone else to look after until he's like 2, the fun age. Is this a normal feeling? It could be. Some say it is a natural initial feeling. Now, I think it was just some crazy phase. All I want now is to BE with baby and watch him grow.
My wide-eyed little charm.
Thursday, April 01, 2010
Getting The Hang Of It
I was zombified for a few days post-confinement. Plus very stressed up. As my confinement was ending, everyone at home was getting sick including myself. We blamed it on the crazy weather. Hot during the first half of the day, rainy the rest of the day. I was feeling the 'heat' from all the heaty food I've been taking as well and it came in the form of a sore throat followed by a brief fever ON the full month dinner day, and now I'm blowing out thick green mucus.
I spent the few nights practically sleepless, observing baby's sleep patterns and most of the time sensitive to his little grunts and stretches when he sleeps. I became jaded, a little shaky from the all-night tense muscles, and I hated having blocked nose when I try to sleep. I didn't quite settle on a routine yet and that made me 'unsettled'. I need things to be in order to feel good and in control.
Now, I feel so much better. I managed to doze off last night, and sleep deeply for 2 hours at least, oblivious to his little grunts and movements. I'm getting back to a civilized routine and it feels good.
Yesterday, as I burped baby AND helped Daniel with a little jigsaw game simultaneously, I thought to myself, hey I can do this!
I spent the few nights practically sleepless, observing baby's sleep patterns and most of the time sensitive to his little grunts and stretches when he sleeps. I became jaded, a little shaky from the all-night tense muscles, and I hated having blocked nose when I try to sleep. I didn't quite settle on a routine yet and that made me 'unsettled'. I need things to be in order to feel good and in control.
Now, I feel so much better. I managed to doze off last night, and sleep deeply for 2 hours at least, oblivious to his little grunts and movements. I'm getting back to a civilized routine and it feels good.
Yesterday, as I burped baby AND helped Daniel with a little jigsaw game simultaneously, I thought to myself, hey I can do this!
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Confinement
Tough luck if you just delivered a baby and you are a Chinese living in Asia, well, at least in Malaysia for me. Just when you thought the worst pain is over, you'll have to observe a month of traditional ritual which involves eating specialty food mostly cooked with lots of ginger and wine, drinking only red date longan water, staying away from cool breeze, lots of sweating, bathing in specially boiled herbal bath water, not washing your hair for as long as you can tahan and basically just staying at home to rot. It is a month of inconveniences.
Most mothers will hire a confinement lady to help out during this month. Her job is to prepare the speciality food, look after the new mother and the baby, therefore finding an experienced one is very important. I remember my first confinement lady. She totally rocks. She seems to have magic fingers that worked so efficiently yet she always appear so calm and free. And for the fact that maybe Daniel was an easy newborn, she managed him perfectly. She was a genuine confinement lady.
Unfortunately, she has retired and I have lost her contact number anyway. SO... I wasn't that lucky this time. Thanks to my grandmother's recommendation, I have this nutcase in my house. (LOL) Well, she ain't SO bad but there are times I want to laugh at the things she do. And many things that seem to irritate the bones out of me. So long story short, here are the Top Ten Things She Did To Humiliate Herself and Her Profession:
1. This one is classic. Get ready. She cooked the traditional pig stomach's soup. ...... WITH ITALIAN HERBS!! WHY? Because she forgot PEPPER in the shopping list for the Paul's trip to the market. She just grabs the McCormick's bottle and add a few dash of herbs. How come? Go to next point.
2. She can't smell. She has lost her sense of smell. Maybe genetic, maybe by accident, I don't care. Maybe when she was like... 16, she went out to buy some Italian Herbs for the pig stomach soup she was cooking, and on the way, she like... fell into a pile of cowdung and some dung like, osmosis-ed into her airways and completely destroyed her smelling nerves. Whatever. Because cooking GOOD nutritious appetizing specialty food is a major requisition for this profession, I wonder how do you do it with a bad nose.
3. She hardly checked baby's diaper for poop. Sometimes, when baby fussed a bit, she would just pat him back to sleep. Most of the time I was the one who discovered or suspected the dirty outpoooot. Bad nose maybe? I don't smell anything poopy, but it is the matter of JUST checking.
4. There's something about the way she holds the bottle while feeding. Macam senget. That causes air to go in between baby's mouth and the teat. He chokes. Bad move for gassy stomach. And when baby doesn't quite finish his feed, she forces him to finish by moving the bottle in an in-out maneuver in his tiny little mouth. She just doesn't have this feeding instinct.
5. She doesn't burp him enough. She just do it for the sake of doing it, for about 1 minute and she puts him down. Her excuse? "Oh, he doesn't burp, he farts!" Sure he farts a lot, but at least try burping him for 5 minutes. No wonder he has gassy cramps often. Biatch.
6. She's not very organized. Baby wears cloth diapers (only for the first month), which gets wet and poopy many times during the day and needs to be changed. She doesn't fold them into diapers in advance. She just folds them as how you would just fold your towel or hankie. So, when it's time to change the diapers, she has to unnecessarily get her hands full. When I realized this, I made a gentle remark. "Hey auntie, why don't you pre-fold the diapers so it's ready to be used when you need it fast". She said "Oh ya hor". Real smart.
7. There are two classification of herbs in Chinese medicine. Similar to yin and yang, there are herbs that are 'cooling' and 'heaty'. During confinement, you are supposed to take only 'heaty' herbs. She took a pack of ginseng-lookalike thingy and said she will brew them for me. My mom, thank goodness she was there, brought those to the TCM shop to have them ground or sliced very thinly. Those ginseng-lookalike thingamajik turn out to be the 'cooling' kind of herbs and is a big NO NO for confinement mommies. Anyhow hantam. REAL smart.
8. She's got mood. She's petty-sensitive. Due to a miniscule misunderstanding, she threw a tantrum. She glared at my helper with dagger-eyes and didn't talk to her the whole day. My helper cried. Due to another trivial issue with Paul, she wanted to leave half-way. I had to be the mediator. It was a rather stressful event. She stressed us up. BIATCH.
9. She doesn't seem to have a temperature sense, especially if it concerns the comfort of the baby. For the first few nights at home, baby was fussing a lot the whole day. Why? Because it was hot and humid, the room was stuffy and she still swaddled him into a bundle of hotness. Is she a lizard in disguise?
10. I detest her eyebrows. OK, not relevant. But hey, it might scare babies right right right? Even if they see a blurry face, a pair of thick unkept eyebrows would scare them shitless. Or as Chinese old folks say, baby's poop will be green. LOL
You'll know a fraud when you meet one.
Most mothers will hire a confinement lady to help out during this month. Her job is to prepare the speciality food, look after the new mother and the baby, therefore finding an experienced one is very important. I remember my first confinement lady. She totally rocks. She seems to have magic fingers that worked so efficiently yet she always appear so calm and free. And for the fact that maybe Daniel was an easy newborn, she managed him perfectly. She was a genuine confinement lady.
Unfortunately, she has retired and I have lost her contact number anyway. SO... I wasn't that lucky this time. Thanks to my grandmother's recommendation, I have this nutcase in my house. (LOL) Well, she ain't SO bad but there are times I want to laugh at the things she do. And many things that seem to irritate the bones out of me. So long story short, here are the Top Ten Things She Did To Humiliate Herself and Her Profession:
1. This one is classic. Get ready. She cooked the traditional pig stomach's soup. ...... WITH ITALIAN HERBS!! WHY? Because she forgot PEPPER in the shopping list for the Paul's trip to the market. She just grabs the McCormick's bottle and add a few dash of herbs. How come? Go to next point.
2. She can't smell. She has lost her sense of smell. Maybe genetic, maybe by accident, I don't care. Maybe when she was like... 16, she went out to buy some Italian Herbs for the pig stomach soup she was cooking, and on the way, she like... fell into a pile of cowdung and some dung like, osmosis-ed into her airways and completely destroyed her smelling nerves. Whatever. Because cooking GOOD nutritious appetizing specialty food is a major requisition for this profession, I wonder how do you do it with a bad nose.
3. She hardly checked baby's diaper for poop. Sometimes, when baby fussed a bit, she would just pat him back to sleep. Most of the time I was the one who discovered or suspected the dirty outpoooot. Bad nose maybe? I don't smell anything poopy, but it is the matter of JUST checking.
4. There's something about the way she holds the bottle while feeding. Macam senget. That causes air to go in between baby's mouth and the teat. He chokes. Bad move for gassy stomach. And when baby doesn't quite finish his feed, she forces him to finish by moving the bottle in an in-out maneuver in his tiny little mouth. She just doesn't have this feeding instinct.
5. She doesn't burp him enough. She just do it for the sake of doing it, for about 1 minute and she puts him down. Her excuse? "Oh, he doesn't burp, he farts!" Sure he farts a lot, but at least try burping him for 5 minutes. No wonder he has gassy cramps often. Biatch.
6. She's not very organized. Baby wears cloth diapers (only for the first month), which gets wet and poopy many times during the day and needs to be changed. She doesn't fold them into diapers in advance. She just folds them as how you would just fold your towel or hankie. So, when it's time to change the diapers, she has to unnecessarily get her hands full. When I realized this, I made a gentle remark. "Hey auntie, why don't you pre-fold the diapers so it's ready to be used when you need it fast". She said "Oh ya hor". Real smart.
7. There are two classification of herbs in Chinese medicine. Similar to yin and yang, there are herbs that are 'cooling' and 'heaty'. During confinement, you are supposed to take only 'heaty' herbs. She took a pack of ginseng-lookalike thingy and said she will brew them for me. My mom, thank goodness she was there, brought those to the TCM shop to have them ground or sliced very thinly. Those ginseng-lookalike thingamajik turn out to be the 'cooling' kind of herbs and is a big NO NO for confinement mommies. Anyhow hantam. REAL smart.
8. She's got mood. She's petty-sensitive. Due to a miniscule misunderstanding, she threw a tantrum. She glared at my helper with dagger-eyes and didn't talk to her the whole day. My helper cried. Due to another trivial issue with Paul, she wanted to leave half-way. I had to be the mediator. It was a rather stressful event. She stressed us up. BIATCH.
9. She doesn't seem to have a temperature sense, especially if it concerns the comfort of the baby. For the first few nights at home, baby was fussing a lot the whole day. Why? Because it was hot and humid, the room was stuffy and she still swaddled him into a bundle of hotness. Is she a lizard in disguise?
10. I detest her eyebrows. OK, not relevant. But hey, it might scare babies right right right? Even if they see a blurry face, a pair of thick unkept eyebrows would scare them shitless. Or as Chinese old folks say, baby's poop will be green. LOL
You'll know a fraud when you meet one.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
My ChildBirth Story
I love surprises. Including the moment my water broke at 1am on the 27th February, while chit-chatting with the husband in bed. Just an hour past my birthday. Who could’ve thought. I wasn’t due until 18th March.
This was my first water-break experience. It’s like an uncontrolled pee. All of a sudden, without any warning or sign, I wet myself. So I rushed to the toilet and sat there for 10 minutes. The water came on and off. Hmm.. maybe I’ve lost control of my bladder. The water came again. I called the hospital and was asked to pop in to check. I told the husband, “I think this is it”. Thank goodness I have already packed my hospital bag.
I hate the way Labour Rooms make you feel. It has that scary the-moment-awaits-you vibes. The bed (of suffering), the weird instruments, the sterilized metallic tools you wish the doctors won’t use IN you, the fetal and contraction monitors, the sounds, everything in there.
First, I stripped ALL the way, and had to wear the KPJ pink robe. I lied on the bed, and the nurses started taking my blood pressure and my temperature, which is a routine throughout my stay. The nurse asked basic medical history too. Then, as I anticipate with displeasure, a nurse did an internal examination to check my cervix dilation. I hate this. I really really do, and unfortunately is a routine throughout the labour. I was only ‘fingertip’ dilated. LOOOOONNNNG way to go sister. More water came out after the probing. Then, I was strapped to the fetal heartbeat and contraction monitor. I heard the familiar sound of the echoed heartbeat, going woov woov woov woov woov woov woov woov woov. 130 beats per minute on average. I was asked to rest, and sleep. The husband went home to sleep for a couple of hours and to prepare everything at home.
I didn’t sleep a wink. I was tightly strapped for goodness sake. And hospital beds are as hard as rock. So I just lied there and close my eyes whenever I could, anticipating with every breath.
At 9am, my gynae came to do his rounds at the Labour Ward. Again, the dreaded internal examination. I tell you, male doctors don’t do it as gently as the female nurses/midwives/doctors. I was waiting to hear good progress, but to my despair, I was only 3cm dilated!! It was already 7 hours since my water broke! So, more waiting. I was given Pitocin to speed up labour. Lowest dose, according to the nurse. My contractions still didn’t hurt. Then I decided to do the smartest thing I remember reading about on Labour Positions. I sat, instead of semi-lying on the bed. Maybe gravity helped the baby move lower into the birth canal. A few hours after sitting, my contraction chart looked promising, strong contractions every 4-5 minutes. Mine came in duplets. Two contractions, one after the other, every 4-5 minutes. It started to feel like a bad tummyache or diarrhea ache.
Now, contrary to what many of you believed, I did not opt for Epidural-Free birth. I DID asked for it, because I didn’t know how the pain would increase from here. Tummyache? Sure I can deal with it, but what if it gets worse and I lose control and freak out and … faint midway? That would be disastrous… and undoubtedly embarrassing.
So I did asked. I was 6cm dilated, and I knew this would be the time to ask for it, before it’s too late and I want to kill everybody in the room. The nurse checked the charts and was concerned that with every contractions I had, the fetal heartrate dropped a little. Gosh, is history repeating itself? That was the case with Daniel too. I was told that my chances of a natural birth would be quite slim. All my memories of the C-section came back. The nurse told me that epidural wasn’t advisable because we don’t know what is causing the fetal heartrate to drop. It could, instead endanger him. So I waited again, with no hope of epidural or maybe a chance of experiencing natural birth. Fortunately, I could still bear with the tummyache.
I can’t exactly remember the time when my contractions started to hurt more and more. I felt the pelvic pressure bearing down more and more. And all this happened probably within half an hour. Then all of a sudden, I felt the urge to push. Much like pooing. A LOT like pooing. I told the nurses in desperation because I had no control over the pushing urge. A nurse examined me again. But I think she was doing more than checking my cervix dilation. I groaned and squirmed as she did her thing down there. At this point, several nurses were scurrying up and down the room, preparing the table of instruments and the baby’s ‘arrival cot’ etc, and I realized, this is it. It’s going to happen soon! OUCH!
The urge to push came again and again. Closer to each other, within less than minute. The nurse asked me, “ You rasa macam nak berak ya”. As I cling onto the bedsheet, I muttered “YA”. I was breaking out in sweat. I just held on to whatever I could. The bed rail, the sheets. I was at the verge of tears. The husband, all these while beside me, was witnessing the sudden change in pace. One of the nurses handed him a gas mask, I think it was nitrus oxide gas, best known as happy gas or laughing gas. I inhaled it a couple of times, and instantly went woozy. I felt like I was blackening out. I just wanted to doze off. It was a good brief moment when I forgot about the pain and panic I was in.
Everything was set up. My feet on stirrups. The doctor walked in, put on this pair of long black rubber boots and PVC apron, and sat in front of me. “OK, push” he said. There were 7 nurses in the room, all focusing on my vijayjay and yelling PUSH! The amazing fact about a woman’s body in labour is that you WILL know when to push because the body is actually doing the work. With every contraction accompanied by the urge to push, I just rode along. When there were no contraction, I rested, but then the resting period didn’t last because my contractions were coming on in less than a minute apart. How efficient! One of the nurses taught me how to do it the right. I never knew there was a correct way of pushing, I thought there was only one. So I did as told. I held onto the bed railings, on both sides, and pulled towards me, instead of pushing it. And grunting was not the way either, like in many movies where the woman grimaces and screams. I pushed, SILENTLY. No vocals allowed. Only my background singers going PUUUUUUSH!
Unbelievably, after 5 minutes of pushing, my baby was out, and was immediately placed on my chest. It was a magical moment. An experience of a lifetime. It’s like falling in love all over again.
After the drama, I found out why the nurses had a brief look of concern on them and why they were all cheering on so urgingly when I was at the pushing stage. The cord was around his neck as his head emerged. It was quickly cut, and that was why the husband didn't get to cut the cord. Ah well, happy ending.
This was my first water-break experience. It’s like an uncontrolled pee. All of a sudden, without any warning or sign, I wet myself. So I rushed to the toilet and sat there for 10 minutes. The water came on and off. Hmm.. maybe I’ve lost control of my bladder. The water came again. I called the hospital and was asked to pop in to check. I told the husband, “I think this is it”. Thank goodness I have already packed my hospital bag.
I hate the way Labour Rooms make you feel. It has that scary the-moment-awaits-you vibes. The bed (of suffering), the weird instruments, the sterilized metallic tools you wish the doctors won’t use IN you, the fetal and contraction monitors, the sounds, everything in there.
First, I stripped ALL the way, and had to wear the KPJ pink robe. I lied on the bed, and the nurses started taking my blood pressure and my temperature, which is a routine throughout my stay. The nurse asked basic medical history too. Then, as I anticipate with displeasure, a nurse did an internal examination to check my cervix dilation. I hate this. I really really do, and unfortunately is a routine throughout the labour. I was only ‘fingertip’ dilated. LOOOOONNNNG way to go sister. More water came out after the probing. Then, I was strapped to the fetal heartbeat and contraction monitor. I heard the familiar sound of the echoed heartbeat, going woov woov woov woov woov woov woov woov woov. 130 beats per minute on average. I was asked to rest, and sleep. The husband went home to sleep for a couple of hours and to prepare everything at home.
I didn’t sleep a wink. I was tightly strapped for goodness sake. And hospital beds are as hard as rock. So I just lied there and close my eyes whenever I could, anticipating with every breath.
At 9am, my gynae came to do his rounds at the Labour Ward. Again, the dreaded internal examination. I tell you, male doctors don’t do it as gently as the female nurses/midwives/doctors. I was waiting to hear good progress, but to my despair, I was only 3cm dilated!! It was already 7 hours since my water broke! So, more waiting. I was given Pitocin to speed up labour. Lowest dose, according to the nurse. My contractions still didn’t hurt. Then I decided to do the smartest thing I remember reading about on Labour Positions. I sat, instead of semi-lying on the bed. Maybe gravity helped the baby move lower into the birth canal. A few hours after sitting, my contraction chart looked promising, strong contractions every 4-5 minutes. Mine came in duplets. Two contractions, one after the other, every 4-5 minutes. It started to feel like a bad tummyache or diarrhea ache.
Now, contrary to what many of you believed, I did not opt for Epidural-Free birth. I DID asked for it, because I didn’t know how the pain would increase from here. Tummyache? Sure I can deal with it, but what if it gets worse and I lose control and freak out and … faint midway? That would be disastrous… and undoubtedly embarrassing.
So I did asked. I was 6cm dilated, and I knew this would be the time to ask for it, before it’s too late and I want to kill everybody in the room. The nurse checked the charts and was concerned that with every contractions I had, the fetal heartrate dropped a little. Gosh, is history repeating itself? That was the case with Daniel too. I was told that my chances of a natural birth would be quite slim. All my memories of the C-section came back. The nurse told me that epidural wasn’t advisable because we don’t know what is causing the fetal heartrate to drop. It could, instead endanger him. So I waited again, with no hope of epidural or maybe a chance of experiencing natural birth. Fortunately, I could still bear with the tummyache.
I can’t exactly remember the time when my contractions started to hurt more and more. I felt the pelvic pressure bearing down more and more. And all this happened probably within half an hour. Then all of a sudden, I felt the urge to push. Much like pooing. A LOT like pooing. I told the nurses in desperation because I had no control over the pushing urge. A nurse examined me again. But I think she was doing more than checking my cervix dilation. I groaned and squirmed as she did her thing down there. At this point, several nurses were scurrying up and down the room, preparing the table of instruments and the baby’s ‘arrival cot’ etc, and I realized, this is it. It’s going to happen soon! OUCH!
The urge to push came again and again. Closer to each other, within less than minute. The nurse asked me, “ You rasa macam nak berak ya”. As I cling onto the bedsheet, I muttered “YA”. I was breaking out in sweat. I just held on to whatever I could. The bed rail, the sheets. I was at the verge of tears. The husband, all these while beside me, was witnessing the sudden change in pace. One of the nurses handed him a gas mask, I think it was nitrus oxide gas, best known as happy gas or laughing gas. I inhaled it a couple of times, and instantly went woozy. I felt like I was blackening out. I just wanted to doze off. It was a good brief moment when I forgot about the pain and panic I was in.
Everything was set up. My feet on stirrups. The doctor walked in, put on this pair of long black rubber boots and PVC apron, and sat in front of me. “OK, push” he said. There were 7 nurses in the room, all focusing on my vijayjay and yelling PUSH! The amazing fact about a woman’s body in labour is that you WILL know when to push because the body is actually doing the work. With every contraction accompanied by the urge to push, I just rode along. When there were no contraction, I rested, but then the resting period didn’t last because my contractions were coming on in less than a minute apart. How efficient! One of the nurses taught me how to do it the right. I never knew there was a correct way of pushing, I thought there was only one. So I did as told. I held onto the bed railings, on both sides, and pulled towards me, instead of pushing it. And grunting was not the way either, like in many movies where the woman grimaces and screams. I pushed, SILENTLY. No vocals allowed. Only my background singers going PUUUUUUSH!
Unbelievably, after 5 minutes of pushing, my baby was out, and was immediately placed on my chest. It was a magical moment. An experience of a lifetime. It’s like falling in love all over again.
After the drama, I found out why the nurses had a brief look of concern on them and why they were all cheering on so urgingly when I was at the pushing stage. The cord was around his neck as his head emerged. It was quickly cut, and that was why the husband didn't get to cut the cord. Ah well, happy ending.
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