Orgasmic Childbirth

NOT kidding.

During my last check-up, last weekend, I asked my gynae if I have to deliver by Caesarean again this time. My impression on private practices are that they go for shortcuts and we pay for them big-time. I was surprised he said that I could try for a natural birth. I was a candidate for VBAC! (Vaginal Birth After Caesarean) The thought of walking right after delivery was appealing to me!

Then I started to get nervous, like any new mother-to-be would, because this would feel like my first childbirth. Though my body went through labour (painless) and I was half-way dilated, I never get to deliver a baby like what Nature intended us to. I think I can handle pain quite well, but I also tend to panic easily and then 'freeze'. What if I can't handle the pain at the most crucial moment?!! WORST, what if my scar tears open during the process?? (Uterine rupture, can cause maternal and or fetal death, are you scared are you scared). This is the risk of VBAC, though reportedly at a low percentage. But still there's a percentage. Aren't we all part of statistics? I hate statistics.

So, I started scouting around for VBAC information, leading to natural childbirth experiences, leading to.... jeng jeng jeng... this weird trend of birth perception. ORGASMIC childbirth.

Wow. Wow. Wow.

I can't really describe it much because as the name implies, it is a painless but pleasurable mind-blowing ecstatic childbirth.
Here are some testimonials and excerpts from a site:

"Many mothers experience a burning or splitting sensation as the largest diameter of the baby's head passes through the birth outlet. Some actually experience orgasm."
-From Mind Over Labor, by Carl Jones, C.C.E.

".....The sensation of my daughter's body sliding out of my vagina was orgasmic. I still shudder when I think of how pleasurable that was."
-Caroline S.

"A woman in California was giving birth at home in a portable birth tub and feeling very sexy and loving with her partner. Each time she had a contraction she would cry out, 'Oh, baby, I love it. More...more!' Her windows were open because it was July, and soon a crowd gathered outside her home. When the baby was born amidst shouts of 'Yes!!! Yes!!! Oh, my God, yes!!!' her neighbors gave her a great round of applause. They only realized that it was a birth after they heard the cries of a baby."
-From Gentle Birth Choices, by Barbara Harper, R.N.

Sounds crazy. Is this really the best-kept secret? Is it... POSSIBLE??? Those ang mohs really full of ideas. They do homebirths where they sit in a bathtub during labour and birth. Do Malaysians do that I wonder? I know in some rural kampungs, they have midwives to assist the birth at home, but we city folks just go into the hospital, get epidural, or not, and get hooked onto tubes and monitors on fancy birthing beds or go straight to the operating room. Modern times.

No, no, don't get me wrong, I don't want a homebirth. But I'm attracted to the idea of having a labour coach, and midwives, and of course a doctor in case something happens, in a hospital setting. Support is what a labouring woman needs. And maybe... an orgasm. LOL.

Time Flies

With the end of the year approaching, I always think of you, all my dear friends. From my Convent schoolmates, to my UPM buddies. Wherever you are, I hope you are all happy, and doing alright, well-fed, well-clothed, and comfortable.

This year, I have so much to thank for. Everything is good that it worries me that it's too good to be true. And I'm sometimes convinced that good things, or even bad, never lasts. So I should never take things for granted. And always be ready for your worst nightmare because you never know when or if it will happen.

I'm a bit pensive recently, something like in a reflection mood, that's why I'm writing this. Perhaps I've been reading the newspaper everyday and there are kids and people dying, freak accidents, illnesses and terrible things that happen to good normal folks like you and me. As much as I believe in fate and destiny, I can't help by ask why did these tragedies happen, and why fucktards are the ones alive and terrorizing others and this supposedly peaceful world.

OK, someone please slap me.

Tera Thai @ JB

Looking for fine Thai-dining in Johor Bahru? We got it.
Tera Thai at Jalan Abdul Samad. The old colonial government bungalow converted into a BEAUTIFUL cozy restaurant with authentic delicious Thai cuisine. Seriously good.






Starters for the set lunch. I didn't take any pictures after that because I was dizzy with spiciness.


My aunt got a treat right after lunch. A free promotional 10 min Thai massage.

The Spa.

A Tease Boy

The 20-plus-th week scan which is also called an anatomy scan was exciting. My 'replacement' gynae is a thorough one.

Sometimes, I'm really amazed at the doctors who could really read an ultrasound scan of a fetus. The doctor could see the nose and the lips of the baby's face and I'm like... HUH, what did I miss? What is that shadow? What is that thingy moving?

I'm also amazed at how he could zoom in to view the beating heart, and all its chambers and walls. The spine was easy to see of course. Then we looked at the diaphragm the tissue muscle separating the thorax and the abdomen. All is well.

Then, jeng jeng jeng. I wasn't really hard up to know about it, but E.V.E.R.Y.O.N.E has been asking me to the point that it made me curious too. The thighs were close together at first.

"Oh, ooo, could be a girl" Doctor made a guess.

And then, this baby is such a teaser, the legs actually slowly opened at that moment to reveal his you-know-what. It was a funny moment. Definitely a boy. Unless that's the umbilical cord. Or maybe an obscene finger gesture.

What a thrill. Everyone hoped I'd have a girl. Isn't this natural? Well, I think it's a still blessing. A child is a gift indeed.

One week At Home

SO.

My wonderful helper tita is in Philippines this whole week for a short vacation, so am I. At home. But I'm still sorta working. I have 50 wedding invites to finish, and other than that, I must say I have obsessively done some items for my etsy shop and for Nature Recipes.
Some of my favourite things for now.





Packaging packaging packaging.

Just a weekend

Baby2 has been moving quite furiously. Maybe it's because I'm a kanchiong spider today. So many things I want to do! From labwork to my craft projects.

I've been given a corner space to display and sell my handmade knick-knacks! This natural product-themed shop is in Permas, and I've yet to visit it. Now my ideas keep pouring in and all I need is time. Pouches, bags, noteboooks, notecards, gift tags, calendars, all need to be rushed for the Christmas season. More hand-printing, gocco-ing (I HAVE to blog about this), stamping and sewing. I need my clones!



Weekend was gorgeous.
Lontong. Sedap.


My backyard. Josie planted ladies finger... they're sweet and have big seeds. The chillies get eaten by rats.


Wash crabs, steam crabs, eat crabs. Not me though. That's not Josie ya, that's my aunt from To-kee-yo.

Mine is Longer

The other night, at bedtime, D brushed his little fingers across my eyelashes left to right, right to left, left to right, right to left.

Then he felt his own eyelashes and said , "Mine is longer".

Shit, it's true. I hate him.

***



Another design coming up soon, slightly different. I have stuff to make, guests visiting and D's graduation 'concert' coming up this weekend. Crazy!

Love Making...

...stuff.



How to Make Ally's Potato Salad
1. You boil some potatoes. With or without skin, up to you. Without the skin, you might risk making potato soup if you forgot to switch off the fire after 3 hours.
2. Let the boiled potatoes cool down. Then peel the skin off.
3. MASH the potatoes.
4. Add mayonnaise. Preferably a good brand like Kraft or Japanese ones. This makes the difference. Not too much, not too little. You gotta judge for yourself here.
5. Add some salt and pepper. More pepper for me please.
6. MIX.
7. Add Japanese cucumber, they are sweeter and have less seeds. Chopped or small quarter slices.
8. Add chopped small red onions.
9. OPTIONAL: You may add chopped hams if you like.
10. Mix again. Store in fridge and serve cold ala Samantha Jones for Valentine's surprise in Sex and the City Movie .

Have fun.

Straits View in a view

A lot is happening at the southernmost part of Malaysia.
Flyover in the process. The grey building in the background is the new-ish Thistle that replaced Hyatt.


Extending the coastal line at Lido and Straits View. If Singapore did it, we should do it too. Soon, Singapore and Johor will be just 5cm apart if we keep extending our coastal lines.

***

This week, after 2 months of an uncomfortable first trimester, I was able to finally sew something. A customized pouch for a wedding couple.



LOADS to do! Daniel's BJ Loves Giving Love story scrapbook, planners, calendars and printing. I'm going to fry myself this weekend.

Craft Mojo

It's back. I want to DO something. Sew, cut, paste, stamp, design, anything! I look at my sewing machine and my craft corner eagerly but I have yet to do anything solid. Too many ideas too little time!

Gosh, it feels good to be close to normal again after the horrendous first trimester. Now, I have an obvious baby bump. I'm wearing my maternity pants from today onwards. I'm still belching now and then from a bit of reflux, but it's waaaay better than before this. I have felt the baby's kicks and movements, though not very frequent so I'm wondering if this is a less active baby than D. Maybe it's still too soon to tell.

In the meantime, I'll see what I can produce this week.

School Project

My heart skipped a beat when I saw the word 'scrapbook' in D's newsletter for parents. We're to create a story and make it into a scrap book to be submitted in two weeks. We gotta ace this one, I mean, I HAVE to be the ONLY mother in JB who has all the professional crafting/scrapbooking tools man!! I got alphabet stamps, chipboards, fancy papers, fancy stamps, paper punches, ribbons, fabric, blings, cutters, Gocco, I GOTTA SHOW OFF!!!

The only thing lacking now is a solid story. Whenever I try to think of a story, I have this cheeky smile on my face, because the title of the story has to be...

BJ Loves Giving Love.

I KNOW!!!! It sounds soooooo wrong. Try to Google it. I told D the title, and I swear he repeated this, "BJ Loves Kinky Love?"
*gulp*

BJ is like this Kindeeland's mascot. It's a monkey. And we need a story about BJ who has all the love in the world to give. Any ideas?

Old JB Custom

Gone.



I'm actually standing at the Mobil Station where you'd see the hustle and bustle of people and vehicles approaching the customs to get to Singapore. Now, it's just peaceful.

Are you Single and Ready to Mingle?

Spotted at the intersection junction between Taman Molek and Taman Johor Jaya. Something that surprised me because I'm probably out of touch with the city and this event is rather unheard of in JB.

It is a bachelor party for singles, and will probably be taken advantage by those who are prowling for an easy fling. But there is an admission fee of RM198.

It says, " Whether you're from Singapore or Malaysia, do not waste your golden weekend". Sounds dubious to me, so I checked the website stated in the banner.

Ah, so des. This party is organized by Innovmect & Globalink Sdn. Bhd., an exhibition and event specialist based in Johor Bahru. It seems like it's a fairly new business company and I found only two events under their portfolio so far. What I'm curious about is the motive of this Bachelor Party. Maybe it's just for publicity. Very unusual event.

Wait a minute.... it could be a secret orgy party *gasp*.

My Unwanted 'Tenant'

Some time back, we had a rodent problem at home. A little mickey mouse moved in, trying to be part of our family. It left little 'souvenirs' here and there and freaked me out. Eventually, I Dettol-ed every surface at home.

One night, we caught the bugger. I can't remember how, thank you placenta brain.

There it is, precariously hanging on to life.

We had accidently kiap-ed his tail while closing all the ventilation windows. Does this make the hair on your hands stand? Mine did.

It's legs, trying to get hold on something to stay there. With the tail trapped, it hung upside down, but frantically getting up to latch on something.


I felt sorry for the little booger. But it is rodent! And there is a child in the house and I can't risk it coming back again.

It was gone the next morning. Tail and all. I wonder how it escaped.

Acid Reflux

I'm starting to chat with Fetus2, like I did with D. While I drive, before I sleep, when I'm doing number2, just whenever I feel like it.
I like to build the connection early, like you know, feel 'connected' but I think it's still early as I don't really feel anything yet. I am anxious to feel the kicks and movements, I miss them so much! It is amazing to feel a life inside.

So the pregnancy woes goes on. First the nausea and zombiness, then the acid reflux and now the nose block and nosebleed galore. Nature is preparing me for disturbed sleep nights. Thank you very much.

Back to acid reflux. It is a horrible symptom from hell. Air keeps coming up my esophagus and I had to belch myself or induce puke to expel the trapped air in my throat ALL DAY LONG. Swallowing triggers vomit sensation so I couldn't just eat and eat whenever I wanted. And oh yes, excess saliva ALL DAY LONG. Saliva is alkaline and it's the body's way to neutralize the acidity of the stomach. So I was a spitting queen as well. Spit, belch, puke air, spit, belch, puke air. Rinse and repeat.

I learnt a lesson. I drank primarily bottled green tea, chrysanthemum tea, jasmine green tea, ribena and LOTS of juices because my mouth rejected water. Those could be the culprit of my gastro reflux. Big mistake. SO, it is important to moderate the intake of such drinks, and also tomatoes/tomato-based food, caffeine, fruits, anything acidic. Got it, mom-to-bes?

Sekian.

Nissan Latio

Few months ago, I gave up my faithful 5 year-old black Honda City and took over the champagne gold Nissan Latio from the hubz.

Long story short, inky pinky ponky, father bought a Latio, could no longer afford, son took over, inky pinky ponky.

Now, being quite a car enthusiast, a modern man in his prime would unlikely choose A Nissan Latio, champagne gold in colour. But being a good son, he gave up his beloved old model Camry so he could take over the champagne gold Latio. Problem solved.

But a car enthusiast is a car enthusiast. These folks cannot survive driving a non-trophy car for long. Their image is tarnished. They lose their identity on the road. They lose their voomness. They become depressed. So, after less than a year, the husband's backside itched. He was itching to get a white Accord. He proposed I sell my City and take over the Latio. Being an arts n' craft enthusiast instead, I didn't care. Besides, I was getting a newer car. Right? Who cares if it's champagne gold, right.

Wrong. I'm hormonal and I'm picking on this sucky champagne gold Latio. Ya ya ya, it's got better pick-up power than my City. Lighter steering, great for town driving. But the little things begin to creep up to your face and scratch it.

1. It's champagne gold coloured and I'm starting to feel the uncle-ness. Lin lao peh beh song ah, an tzua an tzua!
2. The seat recliner handle/lever SUCKS big time if you're not a muscular burly big man with STRONG HANDS. It looks and feels like cheapskate plastic. To recline or upright my seat, I have to use BOTH my hands and violently summon every ounce of my strength to pull it A FEW FUCKING TIMES before the seat responds. No, it's not stuck. It's just the way it is designed. Bloody morons.
3. It's a bumpy car. Not so much if you're the one driving it. But if you're the back seat passenger sitting in it from JB to KL, it's enough to send you straight to the porcelain bowl as soon as the car stops.
4. The misc compartment lid slams hard. The spring seems to be an unrefined industrial type. When closing the lid, it SLAMS. And that could wake a baby up.
5. The exterior design itself is NOT better than City. Seriously, ugly.
6. When you start up the engine first thing in the morning or day, it is seriously noise pollution. Sounds like a 30 year old junkyard car.

Did I mention it's champagne gold in colour? Oh well, a car is a car to me. Nothing more nothing less. The hormones hate it.

Traffic Police and the Sweet Innocent Lady

This morning, as I cruise slowly through the first traffic light junction, in line with other cars, heading to the JB checkpoint, the Ops Sikap traffic policemen were waiting at the notorious spot. The light was amber the last I saw. I was stopped. License and ID requested.

"Miss, you tak nampak lampu merah?" (You didn't see the red light?)

"Saya nampak lampu kuning" (I saw amber)

"Lampu dah merah la. You lalu saja. Ni kena saman ya" (Light was red already, you went on. This has to be summoned ya)

"Ya"

"Saman ni. Tiga ratus ringgit." (Summon you know, three hundred ringgit)

"Ya"

"You kerja kat Singapore ya" (You work in Singapore?)

"Ya"

"Kerja apa?" (what do you work as?)

"Makmal" (lab)

"Apa?" (What?)

"Makmal"

"Apa?"

"Makmal"

"Apa? Tak dengar la"

"MAKMAL"

"Apa? Makmal?"

"Ya"

"Ni kena saman ni" (I issue you summon ya)

"Ya"

Walks to the front to 'copy' my car plate number.

"Saman 3 ratus ringgit tau. Sebab ni Ops sikap, tak boleh rayu, kena bayar 3 ratus ringgit" (This summon will cost you three hundred ringgit. And because this is Ops sikap, no appeal can be made, have to pay 300 ringgit)

"Ya. Bayar mana?" (Yes. Where do I pay?)

"Mana-mana la boleh. You nak kena saman ni?" (anywhere. you want this summon?)

"Ya, saman la" (Yes, issue me the summon)

"Betul ni, nak kena saman?" (really, you want this summon?)

YES LA JUST GIVE ME THE FUCKING SUMMON TICKET WHICH I RATHER PAY THROUGH MY BLEEDING NOSTRILS THAN GIVE YOU MONEY TO BUY MORE CIGARETTES YOU TWO-FACED LEATHER-SKINNED CORRUPTED VERMIN!

OK, I did not say that.

"Ya, saman la" (Summon me)

Pause.

"OK la, I kesian you. I bagi warning. Lain kali jangan buat lagi. I tak saman la" (OK, I pity you. I'll just give you warning. Don't do it again. I'm not issuing you a ticket)

"WOO HOO, YOU BEST LA ABANG OFFICER"

OK, I did not say that.

Tips for possibly squirming your way out from being issued a traffic offense ticket:
1. Look sorry. Look apologetic. Look remorseful.
2. When asked or told about being issued a ticket, accept sincerely. Like you deserve it.
3. Don't explain much. Don't even get friendly and do the chit-chat thingy. Just look like you're in deep thoughts. Wait for the ticket. Getting friendly means you want to haggle the price.
4. Sneeze. Look like you're having a mild cold. Or allergy.
5. Imagine the moment you found out that you lost your job, found out you're pregnant and you don't know who the father is, and that last pair of Manolo black heels you're been eyeing on was just sold during a 70% off Sale. Practice this look when the officer is not watching. He will know because his colleague would've noticed you and he'll probably tell him "Eh, tengok tu, kesian dia merana. Lepaskan je"

Works best if you're a petite lady who looks like you're about puke, like me.

How Stock Markets Work

Once upon a time in a place overrun with monkeys, a man appeared and announced to the villagers that he would buy monkeys for $10 each. The villagers, seeing that there were many monkeys around, went out to the forest, and started catching them. The man bought thousands at $10 and as supply started to diminish, they became harder to catch, so the villagers stopped their effort.

The man then announced that he would now pay $20 for each one. This renewed the efforts of the villagers and they started catching monkeys again. But soon the supply diminished even further and they were ever harder to catch, so people started going back to their farms and forgot about monkey catching. The man increased his price to $25 each and the supply of monkeys became so sparse that it was an effort to even see a monkey, much less catch one.

The man now announced that he would buy monkeys for $50! However, since he had to go to the city on some business, his assistant would now buy on his behalf.

While the man was away the assistant told the villagers. ‘Look at all these monkeys in the big cage that the man has bought. I will sell them to you at $35 each and when the man returns from the city, you can sell them to him for $50 each.’

The villagers rounded up all their savings and bought all the monkeys. They never saw the man nor his assistant again and once again there were monkeys everywhere.

That concludes your lesson on how the stock market works.

Baby2

Well, Fetus2 more like it for now...

First trimester woes
1. You name it I got it. Nausea, sleepiness, dizziness, bloating, hyper-salivating, restless leg syndrome and bitchiness.

With D, I was sick for just a short while. Not as sensitive as this time round. Go ahead, gimme the "OHHH!! IT'S GOING TO BE A GIRL!!!!" theory.

2. Is it me or do you tend to get aware of what you see. It's a stage where you can't help but 'fall' to believe a bit of the superstitions, like don't go to the zoo and look at animals. That day I watched Planet of the Apes. And I ter-saw pictures of mutant goat or something with two heads and human deformed face, and I quickly flip the pages. How ah. Invalid fear I know.

3. Been there, done that. Therefore, the worry is doubled this time. I'm not innocent anymore. I KNOW what's going to happen and what CAN happen.

With D, the labour was already taking place and me not realizing it. When I saw the 'show' (blood-tinged mucus discharge is a sign of labour) I called my doc and admitted myself for a day of monitoring. The machine I was strapped onto showed regular strong contractions. But all I felt was just painless 'tightening' of my abdomen. Next morning, I was 3cm dilated. Doctor said "Looks like you're going to have this baby today" I was at 37 weeks. Then, fetal heartbeat rate dropped. He pooped inside. Not a moment to lose! And everything happened so fast after that. I was shaved, given spinal block, wheeled to the OT and all I remember is the shivering. And then there he was. Tiny as a little kitten, red and cautiously alert. He was keeping his eyes open and looked like he was trying to find something. I was in tears. I cooed to him "Hey there... look at you! You ok? I'll see you soon ok?" Then he was whisked off to be observed for 24hours. Then more shivering, and more shivering. And then you get this question of a lifetime. "You nak you punya placenta tak?" Shiver shiver shiver.

In retrospect, anything could've happened, I thought. I'm deeply thankful that everything went alright.

4. "Hmm, how is this baby going to be like" thoughts. You WILL compare.

5. "I can't handle two kids" thoughts.

How could I possibly? I am an only child. I know nuts about sibling rivalry, jealousy, fights and the 2X mess. I had 26 imaginary friends and we all live peacefully! Can I love my kids equally? I don't know. Will my firstborn always be special? Maybe. Will I be able to impartially judge a squabble? I hope so. So many questions, 6 months to go.

Parenthood is not for the faint-hearted.

BJ KINDEELAND

My 4 yr old started school at BJ Kindeeland since the beginning of this year. So far, I'm very pleased with their syllabus, the teachers and the environment.

The branch he attends is a biiiig custom-built house, with a children's pool (by Asiapools) nestled in a green lush surrounding, next to a small suburb estate. Nice, quiet neighbourhood. Many trees. Fresh air. Fairly safe. Double lane quiet road, easy to park, easy to drop off and pick up the kid. The number of little students is reasonable. A nice warm size I would say. Not too few, not too crowded.

Reasonable ratio of teachers to students as well. The teachers and staff are nice people. They handle the kids intuitively and have their system that seems to work. The head teacher (or is she the vice principal, not sure) handles most of the chaotic situation like screaming or naughty kids. She makes the effort to ensure each child feels safe, secure and happy there. When a child misbehaves, has tantrums or cries uncontrollably, she brings him/her to her office to settle down and have a talk. She's stern yet caring, so the kids listen.

He has about 6 workbooks that he does in school, one or two a day. English Phonics, Chinese, this abacus thingy, Maths and I can't remember the rest. He brings home a Homebook to do at home with me everyday. Just a page a day, usually alphabets, numbers and recently simple addition and subtraction. A routine before his bathtime. I was surprised kids start maths so early these days. I only learnt my alphabets and numbers when I was 5! Why is the world in a rush?

So, he learns amazing stuff at school. He likes his teacher and a couple of his friends in class. He is a well-behaved obedient kid in school, but a monster at home sometimes. Isn't this the norm huh. He spends 3 hours developing his academic and social skills in school, and then goes home to watch too much TV and play with his toys all day. Isn't that the norm too... heh heh heh.

Of all things, I'm most impressed with how the kids are taught to be independent. He puts away his dinner plate after eating. He actually brings his plate and his soup bowl back to the kitchen. Then he brings me and his father a glass of water each. Recently he bathes himself. He showed me what he was taught. From washing his hair down to his toes. He even learnt the correct hygienic hand-washing technique where you scrub the front and back of your palm and in between the fingers and all.
Not bad. He also learns that he must wear his own clothes and not depend on mummy.

So far so good. I am a laidback mom. He is a laidback kid. Laidback father, laidback grandfathers and grandmother. Everybody laidback. Go with the flow hey buddy. So, BJ Kindeeland has been a great help. Kudos for the awesome teachers!!

Skinny is As Skinny Does

10 Things
1. Water tastes like shit to me now. I live on juice, diluted Ribena and Sarsi, soup, and chrysanthemum tea.
2. I'm controlling gag reflexes throughout the day. Morning sickness my big smooth ass. It's fucking-wholeday sickness.
3. I'm bloated, I'm not. I'm bloated, I'm not. My new pastime is farting. The silent kind.
4. Fong yao is my new best friend.
5. Can't sleep well.
6. Watching Naked Chef makes me seasick. Been watching the Asian Food Channel. I want to be Nigella and I want her kitchen.
7. I want to watch chick flicks, namely The Proposal (Ryan Reynolds is H O T ).
8. I can multitask like a pro. Procrastinate, slack and stone all at the same time. Woo hoo.
9. I lost weight recently.
10. I cry easily at sad TV scenes now.

Because I'm hormonal and have the right to be, I shall talk a bit on point no.9.

I'm thin. Genetically cursed...no, blessed with this CNPOW gene. Can Never Put On Weight gene.

Why leh? Same reason the Earth is the only habitable planet in the universe. *roll eyes*

SO, I've lived with it. People have been commenting on my weight for the longest time. I used to get sensitive and hurt when I was younger, like a teenager. I was dark, lanky, nerdy and skinny. Just like famous supermodels and A-list actresses when they were younger! Except for Megan Fox, she looks hot throughout her life so far. Bitch.
I tried to prove 'em wrong. But the genes won. So I accepted that I am what I am and I don't give a rat's ass. As long as I'm walkin' and talkin', and havin' a good time.

Here's the real deal. Let's talk about courtesy. Imagine a fat cousin/friend during weddings or new year gatherings or other gatherings or just on the street. You don't say "Wah lao, you so fat!". Even most old aunties won't say it out loud. The most is "Hey, maybe you should lose some weight there". It's like an understood rule of courtesy that you don't say the F word because it is sensitive and it hurts. Same thing if a person is ugly.

When it comes to skinny folks, people are more quick and generous on their comments. They think it's different, like it's not going to hurt as much as being called fat. And usually they sound sympathetic like someone just died. You know, the face. The "Awww... so sad" face. Or the disapproving look. I got that a lot.

Skinny comments are fine actually. Things like "Oh you lost weight la, are you ok?" That's genuine concern. It's alright. Some think I don't eat enough. It's alright too because I know I do and that is what matters. Some say "Husband not feeding you enough ah". It's alright too, because I know he will get me the chocolate cake from Season's anytime I want it. All in all, the skinny comments I got is alright. They're considered mild and harmless until...

...I met the Ultimate Panel of Missile Judge. She is a the wife of the husband's friend. She's the typical fair and chubby prosperous looking lao pan niang. She's friendly, talkative and 'social' like a typical lao pan niang. One day hubz and I dropped by her massage centre because she got her maid to cook us some assam fish curry (OK thank you). This was only the second time we met.

The moment I walked in and until I got out, it really felt like someone just died. She looks at me from head to toe, and shakes her head like I'm a little dying kitten. The wince. Oh yeah... the wince. "AIYO, jiang sou!" Repeat 200x.

She holds my arm and inspects it up and down, occasionally pinching here and there lightly. She does the TSK TSK TSK TSK TSK. She looks constipated. And then I just smile and nod and give her the "I'm so sorry I'm not Lydia Sum" face.

The whole ten minutes. No how-are-you, no eaten-already?, no hello. Just AIYO jiang sou. Like I'm a freak show circus, and you want to make your 2 bucks worth.

Some people can be insensitive or just forgetful about their manners. They don't realize it hurts sometimes. Like fat people being called fat for ten whole minutes and the TSK TSK TSK part. It's..... humiliating, no?

The general belief is that it's easier to gain weight than lose weight. Because majority of population is trying to lose weight at some point of time. That explains 9 out of 10 ads are for slimming. And there so many slimming techniques around. Latest technology summore.

But if you want to gain weight? Sure, you have Gain milk powder and the common "Aiya, just eat more hamburger la". No latest technology. So pathetic genetically skinny people like me are stuck with two choices, which by the way, are not likely to help. So how? Just practise the smile and nod.

I'm not sour about being thin. I'm sour about the encounter with the fat bitch. Anyway, I lost a bit weight for a blessing, so it's fine by me. Tell me how you can eat when you feel like puking your brains out all the time right.

Why Oh Why...

... are morons still alive. Natural selection my foot.

1. The part-time model Kartika's caning sentence was postponed at the last minute. The officers picked her up, drove 200m from her house and made a U-turn to bring her back. "It's not right to do this during Ramadhan". I wonder if the same thing will happen this 31st when Kampung Buah Pala will be crashed down. The bulldozers might make an abrupt U-turn too. Then go off to some secret makan place to eat and drink beer while the politicians will make mercy statements like "It's not right to do this now. These people have no homes. OK, I'm going home to my mansion now in my BMW after stopping by Prada to get something for the spoilt daughter. Oh my life is tough". *up yours*

2. Andy Lau. Oh Andy Andy Andy. *shakes head disapprovingly* Why so secretive. What took you so bloody long. WHO the fuck cares you tell me. Except for maybe 3 or 4 delusional obsessive twerps (male and female) globally. The umbrellas stunt was funny. But it's ok, you still cute. You win.

Jeng jeng jeng. Itu saja sekalian berita moron hari ini.

Just JB

My route home, isn't it a pretty sight. The sunset, the breeze on tropical palm trees, the straits sea... jam also I don't mind.

Stulang, leading to Danga Bay.

Sometimes I take a different route where I'll pass the latest and ONLY 5-star hotel in Johor Bahru. Thistle. That replaced Hyatt. They cleaned up pretty well. The building is repainted grey now. I hope the staff and management maintains it well. Too many nincompoop slackers around.

The difference between KL and JB is, KL has at least 10 Hottest Chill Out spots and JB has eermm... satu, maybe dua. The other hotter chill out spots belong to ah long, bookie syndicates and are usually at shoplots with heavily tinted glass and neon signboards. Very tasteful you should check them out man. Very classy.

There are ah long cards tossed into my home compound almost everyday. I decided to call them one day from a payphone.

(Me in old-lady heavy British accent) "Hello there. May I speak with Mr Ten (Mr. Tan) please?"

"Halo. Halo? Halo?"

"Yes, hello there. Can you hear me darling?"

"Halo halo? Aaahh.. ya ya ya. Halo. This Mr. Tan"

"Riight. Excellent. I'm Matilda and I've got your card here that says you can lend me money dear?"

"Ah... ya ya. Money. We loan. Where you from madam?"

"Oh, I'm at a mart right now. And I've got pounds money darling, and no local money. I.. I don't know anybody here. No friends darling. Could you come and pay for my lai cheees please?"

(background) Niama ti tiang eh ang moh ah sor ai heng lui buey lychee. "Ahh..."

"Could you hurry please. I need... ahmm... I need 8 dollars and 60 cents darling"

"Aa.. sorry sorry *trying to hide chuckles* We don't. Sorry"

Dead tone.

You think I dare. Hahahhahahaa.

Pendidikan Seni

I'm a very hands-on mom (including hands-on spanking muahahaha). I believe in a lot of physical touch, a lot of honest communication, roughplay, imaginative roleplay, teasing, tickling, bonding moments and of course the dirty hard work during the baby stages. There's an indescribable sense of reward when your sweaty messy dirty child looks up at you with that look. The WOW-Mummy-YOU-made-my-day! look.

Now that he's older, there's a lot more fun activities we could do with him. And being a kid, he even finds it a thrill throwing little rocks into the drain. So simple and innocent they are. Truth is, it doesn't matter what we do, he'd find it fun when there's company around.

Last weekend, I introduced vege stamping to him.
Cut a potato in half. Make a quick clean smooth cut. And then carve a shape on the cut surface. For ladies finger or lotus root, just make a slice. Take out the colour paints and have a ball. Easy peasy. Oh ya, prepare LOTS of wipes.





Have a good weekend folks!

A Real Story about A Real Person

I've seen him around. Lunchtime, seminars, vendor booth events. But not anymore. This is his blog. It's entertaining and engaging. There's a lot more to this chap than a PhD.

Taken from Channel NewsAsia:

Dr Cai Ming Jie became an SMRT cabby last November after spending 16 years as a researcher at the Institute of Molecular and Cell Biology (IMCB) of the Agency for Science, Technology and Research (A*Star).

His career switch has become a talking point online after he started a blog earlier this year. Alongside his experiences as a cabby, he takes issue with the circumstances of his departure from IMCB last May.

An SMRT spokesman confirmed that the former researcher is a driver with SMRT Taxis, but Dr Cai declined to add more beyond this: 'All that needs to be said is on the blog online...It should be IMCB that needs to be asked questions, if any.'

The China-born Dr Cai, who became a Singapore citizen, obtained a PhD in molecular biology from Stanford University in 1990. The Straits Times learnt that he did a two-year postdoctoral fellowship after leaving Stanford at the University of Washington, under famed genetist Professor Lee Hartwell, who won a 2001 Nobel Prize in physiology.

He joined IMCB two years later and worked as a principal investigator in the field of cell genetics up till his departure.

A spokesman for A*Star, meanwhile, said renewal of all its researchers' contracts is based on a number of factors, including the time taken to train PhD students, their performance and their contributions to the research institutes and the agency in general.

Dr Cai's work, like that of all A*Star researchers, was assessed by an external Scientific Advisory Board (SAB), which recommended his contract be terminated.

Still, in spite of the submission of countless curriculum vitaes and applications to universities, government agencies and companies since he was told he would be let go in 2007, Dr Cai failed to get a successful response.

The former researcher now drives a four-year -old Toyota Crown. 'At a time like this, the taxi business is probably the only business in Singapore that still actively recruits people,' he said.

You Can't Stay On Top Forever

What happened to the Number 1 sportsmen around the globe. Chong Wei out, Federer out, Nadal out, and most shockingly TIGER WOODS (the hubs is crushed and refused food and water and sleep). Apa dah jadi ni. Only Lin Dan hao lian seng survived and won.

Blessed

I'm blessed with good men in my life.

Bless my dad who takes his grandson out to the zoo on some weekends so that this pathetic exhausted sick mom can rest and feel better.

Bless the husband who spoils me.

Bless the little guy who loves to kiss me all the time, and who brings me water to drink and tissue when I watch a sad movie.


He selca like a pro. (SELf CApture, a more decent description of camwhoring)

The Big FOUR

Forgot to post this a while back.

D turned four last June. To make it special, aww aren't all kids' birthday special, I bought a cake and packed some goodie bags to be given to his classmates in school. In this goodie bag, I packed junk food like Mamee, Kinder bar, jellies a box of fruit juice and something else I can't recall.




Snow White. Literally. She's the only girl in class.

Birthday muffins at home.


Sigh... it just seem like it's only yesterday when I saw a little heartbeat in a sac on the ultrasound screen.

I Like...

EVERY night, I tuck D into bed. We have our nightly routine. After showers, I clothe him up and give him his bottle of milk. Yes, kids are still suckers to their familiar milk bottles until they turn whatever age.

Then, he chooses a book for me to read to him. Sometimes he chooses a gigantic heavy book which I tells him "No, it's too heavy for me to hold", to which he'll reply "Never mind, we hold together", to which I whine "NOOOO, I DOOOON'T WAAAANNNT", to which he pacifies "OK OK, no no no OK" and he puts the gigantic heavy book away. I am so spoilt.

Then, he settles with one and hands it to me. He hops onto bed next to me and I read to him while he gets drunk.

When I say "The End", he knows it's time to switch off the light.

Recently, I've been extending our nightly routine. After bedtime stories, I'd chat a little with him. Like do an interview on his day. I ask the same questions.

"Did you go to school today?" "What did you eat in school today?" "What did you do in school today?" The usual.

I also ask him "What toys you like?" (he loves this question), to which he always enthusiastically answers "I like...mmm, Optimus Prime, Megatron's friend Starscream, mmm... Optimus Prime..." He loves it when I take interest in his interests.

Last night, after this Q&A, after a short silence, D popped the question no one has asked me before and it took me by surprise.

He asked me, "What clothes you like?"

*stunned*

Omigod, we're like Best Friends Forever!

Sweet Child of Mine

On a rare Sunday, P didn't feel like hitting the 18-hole OR the 9-hole course, OR (pinch myself hard), even the driving range. So we all had a loungy lazy Sunday. D enjoys Korean drama too, bless him. That's where he can pick up crucial Korean drama facial expressions like lovelorn, rage, sorrow, comical grin and he does them oh-so naturally.

P took him to the kid's pool to play and he had SO MUCH fun! In the shower, as P cleaned D up, D said " Thank you for swimming" (meaning Thank you for taking me here to have a wonderful time Papa). A BABY still with chubby hands and feet and cheeks said this!

I don't know if this melt your heart like jelly pudding but it did to me.

Singles Singled Out?

I heard a radio commercial this morning on my way to work. It's on mattresses (can't say which brand).

"... AND IF YOU'RE MARRIED, YOU ENJOY $200 OFF!"

Maybe.... just maybe... this mattress company signed a $200 dollar deal with the Ministry of Pathetic Birth Rate. You see, these mattresses are probably incorporated with Micro Particle Aphrodisiac Emitting Chips... you know where I'm going with this heh heh.

Maybe not. Maybe got free Tongkat Ali sachets.

Notebook Obsession

Originally "Nothing Shocks Me, I'm A Scientist"

I just love notebooks.