Ain't over till the Fat Boy sings!

Look who is coming to town on 10th June?

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Okay, Okay. I know the pictures appeared blurry (thanks to no more digital camera and having to use my old-skool mobile phone and I cannot keep my hands still!), but there it said these:

Fat Boy Slim. Live in Bangkok. Royal Paragon Hall. 10/06/11. 19:00. A Standing. 2500.

Can't wait!

Last of the last

Earlier this month, I made the decision to stop pumping and start introducing the much dreaded follow-on formula milk. Since then, I gradually decrease my pumping frequency and about 2 weeks later, my milk supply has completely dried up.

Today, marked the day where the last of the last stash of frozen breast milk was used and mixed in together with the formula milk for Spud. It felt a bit nostalgic, seeing the last frozen bag, I tell you. So nostalgic that Silver Bullet actually took a picture of it as something to remember us by...with date, time and all. Unfortunately, the picture had disappeared in the orbits of my point-and-shoot camera which died on me this morning.

So. There is now officially no more frozen breast milk stashed away in our freezer. All that is left are just a few unused boxes of breast milk storage bags...

And with that, Spud will start on 100% follow-on milk (I still don't like the thought of it) until she is able to take cow's milk when she turns one in a few more months.

Now that this is over, I am truly glad to be able to provide Spud with exclusive breast milk for a good 9 months, despite all the challenges I faced in the initial stages.



Point-and-Shoot: Dead

My 3 year-old shock and waterproof, point-and-shoot digital camera officially died today.

It suddenly developed a mind of its own by turning itself on and changing its settings altogether which makes no absolute sense, before giving out a funny "bomb-alert" type of sound that just would not stop beeping.

That means, I am going to take crappy pictures for my blog using my super out-dated Sony Ericsson's mobile phone, until I get it replaced. Bleahhh.

And double bleahhh as now I have to think about what type of digital camera I will have to get as there are so many out there, and at present, I don't really know what I want. That means, I have to research (which takes time and waste time) and then, the actual hassle begins when I have to shop for one. Bleahhh.

And, spending unnecessary money. Bleahhh. Bleahhh.Bleahhh.

Given that it was a waterproof camera, I thought it was ironic that it probably went hay-wire right after I took it into the pool with me (for like the umpteenth time already) for Spud's swimming lesson yesterday. I guess it could not handle the stress no more after being trashed around (shock proof, too, remember!).

While all the pictures "taken" this morning did not register into the SD card, at least all that were taken at the pool yesterday still turned out okay. And, I guess, it is only right that I post up some of the last pictures as a final tribute to my Olympus  Mju 770 SW.

And here's one of the many unsuccessful underwater takes I tried...always, forever too slow to sync in time with Spud.

I wonder what will be a good brand for my next point-and-shoot digital camera.

Electrocuted in Krabi

Each time I read news such as this, I shudder and cringe in horror.

While I suspect it probably mostly happen in cheap, touristy guest-houses, you can't discount the fact that this is Thailand. And, in Thailand, safety is not necessarily the utmost importance.

Knowing that people have lost their lives from innocently taking a shower sent shivers down my spine. I don't think this is something that we consciously think about (tourists or not), but it exists and it is very real.

It makes me wonder if there are some sensible way to gauge when safety in the shower is being compromised.

Pureed & Frozen

I remember getting all excited at the thought of introducing Spud to solids when she was about 5 and a bit months old.

I still make her food , and I enjoy doing so. Making baby food is really easy --- I steam, I roughly mash them up (no more pureeing the crap out of them!), I put them in ice-cube trays, I freeze them and then use them when needed. I make them once every 1 or 2 months at a go, and then just keep then frozen in the freezer.

I have been doing the above for each individual type of food  which is a bit annoying, but at least I get to mix and match them as and when I feel like it, and to also provide Spud with some sort of variety. The kind o ffood she gets for the day depends on my mood.

Our freezer is currently quite full with all the frozen food I made for her...but one thing for sure, there is this sense of satisfaction to be able to feed Spud with something I make myself.  

Now that Spud's eating 3 square meals a day plus snack time in between, I have been more experimental with the type of food I prepared for her. I cannot wait for her to start eating the same thing as we do!

Horrendously hot!

At this time of the year, it certainly is looking like the hot season has been a couple of months late.

The humidity in the air makes me feel hot and bothered. So hot and humid that I don’t really want to be doing anything at all…

There is this inertia to everything, and I find so hard to have a productive work day. I blame it not on my mental being of wanting to procrastinate, but on the ridiculously hot and humid weather. I feel like the perennial slug in the office these past few days. All because of the weather.

I think I will  look better blending in and growing roots on the couch at home instead.

And as I begin to complain about the hot weather, it suddenly just started to pissing rain. I'm so glad that I got home in time.

Did I ever mention that I love the rain?

Ahhh…I think I’m going to sleep really well tonight.

Mesh teether

While researching for the different types of teething rings and their functionality quite a while ago, I stumbled upon reviews on mesh teethers; something which I have not seen in Thailand back then.

I don’t usually have very high hopes that we will be able to find most of the baby stuff we found online to be readily available in Bangkok, but when I (do find them), I am most pleasantly surprised.
I had to search for them mesh teethers I saw online for quite a bit here, and funnily enough, after half an hour of going back and forth the teethers’ aisle, I finally found some, dumped haphazardly in a display box with a bunch of other unrelated things. On sale!

So I bought a couple, and having tried those mesh teether for a few times, I have to say that it is now one of my (and Spud’s) favourite thing. Whenever I suspect a teething Spud, I stuff frozen fruits in there and just let Spud suck on it to sooth the teething discomfort. And, I swear it works wonders as not only will she be distracted (and therefore quiet and less cranky) for the entire time while the frozen cube is there, she will also be able to get some form of nutrition from it at the same time.

As I found out, this mesh teether thingie was invented by a dad whose baby nearly died choking on a biscuit. From what I read, the original intention was actually for giving fresh fruits, vegetables and meals safely without the risk of choking while teaching baby how to chew.

Isn’t that just a genius invention?

It does get a little messy as when the frozen fruit melt, though, and it will surely start dripping all over her hands. But to me, that is a small price to pay to comfort a cranky, teething baby.

And, as you can see, I am completely sold by this fabulous Munchkin teether. In my opinion, a definite must-have in your list of baby items.

June's a crap month

I was looking at the public holidays in Thailand for this year and just came to a realisation that we have to work the full month in June as there is no public holiday scheduled!

Crap. A whole full month of work with no public holidays OK. I'm spoilt.

I think we need to plan for another holiday...

Taste of Singapore

Look what made their way to the shelves of the local supermarkets here in Bangkok?

While the pratas are no big deal since similar frozen pratas (different brands) are quite easily found here, I was actually quite surprised by the stacks and stacks of these polar curry puffs! The brand is so "home" that I just have to get one box for the sakes of it.

Verdict: This Polar Curry Puffs still tasted as good as I remember them.

Ahhh...Singapore food.

I like.

The Sippy Story

[Warning: A very lengthy blog post]

It was not my intention to wean her off the bottle completely. In fact, the purpose of having to go through this journey was just to get Spud more familiar with drinking from a sippy or a cup, and at a minimum, replace just one feeding a day with a sippy.

While I expected a lot of resistance, I must say that it was not as horrendous as the experience of having to wean her off my breast. That being said, it was not a bed of roses either, but I guess being mentally and emotionally prepared for it made the ordeal much easier.

And this was how the story of how we managed to get Spud off the bottle goes:

Day 1: Thursday (a public holiday!)


I decided to get the transition going on the very same afternoon I bought the bunch of sippies. I expected a lot of resistance, and Spud being Spud, did not disappoint me.

When it was time for her milk feed after lunch, I just gave her the sippy. And as soon as she saw that it was not a bottle, she turned away and clamped her mouth shut. Each time she did that, I used a different sippy and try again. And each time I shove a sippy, she got mad.

When she was thirsty enough about 3 hours later, she finally opened up her mouth and she took to one of the sippies with a softer spout. She managed a few sips or two, but turned away just as quickly, clearly showing signs of unhappiness.

That, however, was a positive sign to me as, at least, she managed a few more sips from the sippy cup, albeit unwillingly.

I was hopeful and I know that if I persevere, she would eventually just give in.

I gave her a bottle before her bedtime, and thought that it was worth another try the next day. Only this time, all she was going to get as her first feed of the day was from nothing else but the sippy.

Day 2: Friday

Before I left for work, I fed Spud with the Sippy and again, while Spud showed signs of being royally irritated, she managed a few more sips before she turned away and got mad. Again, I was hopeful that she at least took a few sips --- which in my books, was better than nothing.

I was convinced that if we persevere, we would have Spud take the sippy by the end of the day. And so, told the Nanny that in no uncertain terms should Spud be given the bottle. Spud will cry, Spud will certainly throw some tantrums, but I specifically told the Nanny to distract her (which will work) and not give her the bottle at all cost; at least not until I get home from work. I was certain that Spud will not be hungry as she has been on proper solids for a while, eating three square meals a day, with snacks in between.

I seem to have gotten the Nanny in my camp (or so I thought!), and I was convinced that she would at least try till about noon if Spud became violently angry. However, looking at the progress I had the day before, I was very hopeful that things would turned out fine.

As soon as I got home from work and, when I asked how Spud was, she told me that “everything went ok”. Pleasantly surprised at the reaction, I asked her again if Spud took the sippy. She then told me no because Spud “don’t want to take it, Ma’am” and that she had no choice but to give her the bottle. When I asked what time did she give in with the bottle, she said about 9 am. And that was only an hour AFTER I left the front door to go to work! One.bloody.hour.

I was fuming! I mean, of course she did not want the sippy because she was immediately given the bottle after a small resistance. One bloody hour! While I half expected that it would happen eventually, I did not expect that she would immediately offer the bottle upon the very first rejection. Knowing how intense Spud can be, I would have cut her some slack if she said she only gave in after trying for several hours. But, one.bloody. hour? That, to me, was just a heinous crime.

To make it worse, while I had every intention to try the sippy again before Spud went to bed, the nanny beat me to it by shoving her with a full bottle whilst I was making my own drink in the kitchen.

I had smokes coming out of my ears when I saw that and I was just MAD! When she saw how mad I was (I was banging stuff in the kitchen), she immediately changed to the sippy cup. But by then, it was too late as Spud was already drinking her milk halfway from the bottle. I told her off saying that she should have at least asked me first and by then since Spud has already started sucking the bottle, it was of no use to change to the sippy halfway.

I then tried to calm myself down, and just told her to continue with the bottle, as I will try again the next few days. Myself. I could not have been more annoyed.

What peeved me off most was also the fact that I had to somewhat start all over again after the small progress I had made so far.

Day 3: Saturday

With Spud’s swimming lesson being the first order of the day, I had no choice but to start her 1st milk feed with a bottle, lest she gets cranky during the lesson.

With Silver Bullet on board this sippy cup transition, we strive not to give her any bottle until the end of the day. We did not even bring a bottle out with us.

Whenever we thought that Spud wanted her milk, we gave her the sippy.

She got mad, she got angry, but somehow, despite her violent rejections to the sippy cup, we were able to distract her with other things and calmed her down.

We did not waver, and she finally relented and took in more than half of the milk in the sippy cup (~150 ml) at 4pm that day. That was about 8 hours since her last milk feed.

She was fed with a bottle before bedtime

Day 4: Sunday

Started the day with the sippy and Spud pretty much polished everything off without much complains.

She was however, still a bit reluctant to take the sippy throughout the day. She was quite cranky, and we attributed it to her teething.

Given her discomfort with teething that day, we decided not to push it and gave her a bottle twice more before her bedtime.

Day 5: Monday

I fed her  like I usually do in the morning after her breakfast...but with the sippy before the Nanny came. NO objections.

Before we left for work, we told the Nanny to just continue with the sippy till one of us got home since Spud had already taken to using the sippy cup.

This time, the Nanny listened. And when I got home, she surprised me by informing me that Spud has had no bottle at all for the entire day! And no objection!

Nice.

I was so happy to hear the news that I just gave Spud her bottle before putting her to bed

Day 6: Tuesday

Same as the previous day. No resistance. She started taking her sippy like a champ.

I then also decided to order those doidy cups online as recommended by a fellow blogger, mainly out of curiosity.

Day 7: Wed

Same as the day before. But this time, we decided to push a little by nonchalantly continue with the sippy before putting her to bed. Just to see how it goes.

NO RESISTANCE whatsoever!

Now – more than 2 weeks later

We are officially a bottle-free zone!

When I was just about to embark full-on with this journey (circa day 2), a friend whom I shared my sentiments to on how to go about it mentioned that I was being too harsh. She felt that I was being too tough on a small baby and that I should let a baby be as Spud has still yet to start walking. I had to knock myself on the head and did think about what she said seriously. She has a valid point and did question myself if weaning her off the bottle before she is a year old was the right thing to do and that, if I should just take it easy instead and wait for Spud’s cue.
But, we know Spud enough by now that while things can be difficult with her, it is also not impossible to achieve what was needed to be done. I figured, it was something that has to be done eventually, and we might as well get it over and done with quickly and move on.

Given a choice though, I really do not want to have to go through this in a radical way ever, but knowing what Spud is like, I think it was just a matter of now or never.

If anything, it convinced us even more that perseverance and consistency are the way to go with this little imp.

These days, the bottles have been locked away, and Spud's just as happy drinking her milk or water or very diluted apple/pear juice from her Tommee Tippee sippy spout . (watch this space for a sippy review!)

And boy! Am I glad we do not have to wean her off a pacifier!

Political Commentary

Gosh - I don't really want to be posting about politics again, but I came across an article by Catherine Lim on The GE 2011 Political Demise of Lee Kuan Yew: A Supreme Irony.

I just thought it to be a very fair perspective of the LKY legacy in Singapore. I thought that it was a very nicely written article.

Last I read a Catherine Lim's book was probably more than 20 years ago, and, for the life of me,  I cannot even remember the name of the book anymore. But, I digress.

Living in the rude world

I read this article on Modern Etiquette with great interest. With empathy, even. And, I totally can resonate with what the author said about rudeness and etiquette. I especially find this sentence very meaningful:

“Manners have to do with our basic attitude and approach to life and the people in it. Kindness is the essence of good manners. Etiquette, on the other hand, is a set of rules that govern our relationships in various situations.”

The saddest thing I see in today’s world is the fact that people get so busy chasing fame and being materialistic day in day out that they have forgotten how to be gracious and kind to other people (or animals).

The worst things about humans (and this is most glaring in the corporate world) is that usually “kindness” can sometimes come with an agenda…and with agenda, comes certain etiquette (or the lack of it).

Perhaps, I’m cynical but what peeved me off most is that while they have the perfect etiquette of being superbly friendly to even a fly on the wall and knowing what to say at the right time and right place to the right people, they often do appear fake, insincere and generally do not give a rats’ ass about others apart from themselves. It is like they get so busy being in the “me” world that they have (perhaps subconsciously?) forgotten to be gracious, and sometimes to the point of being plain rude.

Kindness indeed is a virtue and I would very much rather be hanging out with “Barbados David” than with someone who has flawless etiquette but come across as insincere.To me it only goes to show that etiquette is only but a façade.

Such is the world we live. Sad isn’t it? I know I cannot expect everyone to be kind, but I don’t see the need for the rudeness I see on the streets everyday either. (And by golly! People can really be so rude!).

I know that to err is human. But to be rude is just plain appalling! Unacceptable.

Spud the Drama Queen

Earlier this week was one of those rare days where I got to spend the entire day alone with Spud on a weekday as it happened to be a long weekend where I got both Monday and Tuesday off. And, because Silver Bullet did not get the Monday off like I did, I thought I’d tell the Nanny to take the day off as well that day as it has been ages ago since I get the chance to spend the day alone with Spud.

If anything, it was a day I was looking forward to.

As if on cue, it also happened to be the day when she was teething again. She has done not only some massive, smelly poo several times a day that day (it was such a feat to change her diaper that day that I wanted to slap myself purple), she also decided that she was going to be extra clingy to me. .

By clingy, I mean, the moment I showed some indication that I was going to shift my butt somewhere and a-w-a-y from her play mat to do something else (even walking to the other end of the sofa to get her wet wipes, never mind to the kitchen or the bathroom to do anything else), she started wailing. And I mean serious, teary-eyed, crazy loud haler, ear piercing, crying bloody murder, my-mother-has-tortured-the-crap-out-of-me wails.

It was insane.

I mean, she was OK if I just sat right next to her, She was even OK if I just lie down and sleep and did not interact with her (I closed my eyes small enough to try to con her that I was asleep, hoping that she would take the bait and follow suit. It was of no surprise that she didn’t), as she kept herself busy while sitting at one spot. She, however, drew the line at when I needed to get up to do other things…even if she could see me from 3 meters away! While she immediately went quiet if I carried her, she would also start wriggling like a worm within minutes after being carried as she wanted to be on the floor.

She just could not make up her mind that day, and I swear, it was like she was taking the piss out of me! I was, to my own credit, able to remain calm for most of the time. I continued to do the things I needed to get done (which ironically were mainly the stuff that are directly pertaining to her needs), and continued talking calmly to her as she went on with her sad, pathetic I-want-attention-now wails.

I left her in the play-pen and blocked out her wails as much as I could by speaking to her as any calm adult would while I continued doing other things (like cooking!). I would, every few minutes or so, stopped what I was doing and went to her. Still crying.

At some point, I even let her out of the play pen, but as soon as I left her side, started walking to the kitchen and then closed the safety gate to the kitchen behind me, she started crying again with gusto. (It was actually quite a funny sight to see her holding on to the safety gate that separated us as she continued her crying, but stopped herself for a few minutes when she got distracted by the TV or the cats!)

She went on with her crying bouts for almost an hour as I went about doing the stuff I needed to do, and still keeping my cool. It was, in all honesty, not my intention to let her cry, but I figured she was just being a drama-queen with me, and that she cannot always have her way.

When I was done 10 minutes later, I scooped her up and sat with her on her play mat, trying my utmost to calm her down. But, the more I tried to get her to stop her crying, the angrier she got, the more she pushed me away and the louder her cries became. Nothing I did could stop her from her temper tantrums, and after about another 10 minutes of trying (yes, I tried everything --- the milk, the nappy change, the food, gettng her to nap etc) before I gave up and just let her cry as she started stumbling about on my lap.

Realising that I was not going to do anything about it, this little imp then just let it ripped once again! This time, the cries were louder, angrier and visibly agitated.

I got to the point where I just don’t know what to do anymore…and then I did it.

I let it rip. I yelled at the top of my lungs. Just her name out loud. Really loud that I think China could have heard me. Definitely enough to startle her (and myself!) and telling her “Enough” in a very stern voice.

That did it. She looked up to me, cried a little bit more, as if upset that she got scolded; and then almost immediately stopped screaming her head off and reduced her wailing to sniffling sobs as she buried her head on my chest.

I did not say anything for a few minutes, but just rubbed her back gently as she sniffled along. Within seconds, she stopped her sobbings and soon after, gave me a very wide grin. It was as if nothing had ever happened!

The little imp, I tell you.

I did feel somewhat bad for having to yell at her; especially since that was my second yell of the day. (OK. I know this sounds bad, but the first (milder) yelling happened when she was also at it as I was changing her nappy earlier on in the day). But, seriously, I was really at my wits end…what’s a mother who is obviously no saint herself, is supposed to do?

I did wonder if teething has anything to do with it or if Spud was just testing me, pushing her boundaries. Either way, she has, single-handedly managed to drive me insane with her incredible inconsolable crying.

Despite all the drama, her mood got better towards the end of the evening, and as long as I did not try to get her to nap, she was actually quite pleasant to be with. I did think that she might just be experiencing separation anxiety, but I had to bust that theory as she did not show any signs of distress when she saw me walking out of the door to go to work in the next few days!

At this rate, I thought, it would be better for my sanity if I continue being a working mom. That way, I will be more capable of appreciating Spud better.

Snapple Facts

Real Fact #741 from a Snapple bottle cap: "Plants, like human, can run a fever when they are sick."

OK. That might be a little far-fetched. First of all, how do you know that plants have a fever? Where do you stick a thermometer to measure their temperature?

Bizarre.

Spud in a dress!

Spud’s wardrobe was almost bursting at the seams and while cleaning out her drawers the other day, I found a brand new dress which she has yet to wear, buried in tons of her other clothes which we got as gifts.

It looks nice, it is not pink (thank heavens!) and for the life of me, I cannot remember who gave her that dress. I have a sneaking suspicion that it was from her Godmother…but I cannot be certain for my memory fails me half the time as to who gave what. I am very sure, though that it was not me who bought the dress.

I don’t usually don her in dresses since I don’t do much of that girly stuff. Besides, I do find dresses cumbersome on little girls and just not practical for a baby who prefers to roll about on the floor. However, since, it was not pink, and to be honest quite a cute little number, I thought: What the hell! After all, we were going to spend the whole day together just Spud and I, we were going out for a little bit and I am somewhat in the mood for something that looked different on her. So I thought I’d just pick her clothes of the day  for her Papa to dress her after her morning bath.

It was one of those rare days when Spud wore a spunky dress. With a cheeky face to boot, no less.

Sippys

Except for the one right in front, these were the FIVE sippy cups I bought at one go just about a week ago in my bid to wean Spud off the bottle...

I was willing to give any type of spouts and sippies a go, and so, had recklessly spent more than 1000 baht (~40++ SGD) on these sippies. I was, by no means, certainly conscious of the fact that I could just be wasting money unnecessarily...but, that did not dampen my hope of Spud taking at least one of these. I don't care which ones, but just any one will do.

Dare I say that this was probably kiasuism* at its best.

Well, Spud did take one eventually alright; and that is another story for another post for another time.

Meantime, I just need to figure out what I'm going to do with the rest of the other sippies which we don't really need...

* Kiasu: Don't want to lose out in Hokkien.

Slave to the cat

This video had me in stitches. Cats are just amazing!

Birds of a feather...

Now, I don't know what private jokes these 2 tots were sharing on their playdate last weekend, but they sure did look like they were having a ball of a time! This picture above was certainly one lucky candid shot, for, it took us a while to get some decent pictures of the both of them looking so brilliantly happy.

Spud is just almost exactly a month younger than Little Dude Baby, but she is just as hyper as he is. The last time they met and had some "proper baby interaction" was about 3 months ago, and, it was certainly very endearing to see how both of them try to interact with each other again this time.

Spud started out with a little apprehension and assumed the observer role while shamelessly playing with Little Dude's toys. Little Dude Baby, meanwhile, had seemed shy at first, but soon warmed up and before long they were playing side by side.

Being already 10 months old, Little Dude Baby is now able to stand up unsupported for quite abit, and so was doing his stand-up bit every now and then. I could tell that Spud was quite the keen observer that day, and then she too, tried to imitate what he did. It was like Spud suddenly had this surge of motivation that she needed to do what Little Dude Baby was doing, and so, she kept trying and trying to stand up unsupported, but at the same time, looking at him as if to seek for pointers.

It was, like I said, heart-warming. :)

Teletransporter

This is hilariously brilliant! I am not sure how many girlfriends/wives out there got really pissed off with this, but I like the humour in this.

I may be a girl, but I love this ad campaign (executed in Spain).

Deep fried stuff

"Sweet dreams are made of these...who am I to disagree...I travel the world and the seven seas...everybody's looking for something"

...and all I'm looking for is a bunch of deep fried Dutch snacks like these...

And, of course, being back in Bangkok, I'll be shit out of luck.

We had these yummilicious babies while we went gallivanting in Amsterdam without Spud during our last few days in Holland. The biggest balls on the right were Bitterballen and unfortunately, I can't quite remember what the rest were, except that I wouldn't mind having every single one of them again. Right now.

They were so, so good that I took a picture of them (which I had forgotten till now!).
 
OK. I'll tell you one thing though: those were really bad stuff...they make my mouth water just by looking at them.

Not very good for my mental state of mind.

One Woolly Wombat

Typically Australian, this book is a gift from one of the Mom friends I befriended when we both were still pregnant. We caught up several times after our babies were born and thought that they were a very cool couple to hang out with. I mean, who gives books to kids about one woolly wombat sunning by the sea, and 5 pesky platypuses splashing with their feet!

The book totally rocked, and while reading it to Spud the other day, she actually started chuckling at one of the pages that has six cheeky possums looking for a treat. We got to the page with nine hungry goannas wondering what to cook before she screamed out to tell me she has had enough. The book just stops short with 14 slick seals heading out to sea.

Why 14, I don’t have a clue. What I do know is that the book is a pretty neat book for kids. Never mind the counting, but the way it was written is so deliriously kooky, even I like it.

Sadly and very unfortunately (for us), the couple has moved out of Bangkok and went back to Australia recently. That means, we have one less cool family to hang out with and do a play date for Spud.

Oh well.

Reading the book to Spud certainly reminds me of them. I hope they are settling in well, back in Australia.

Post Election Day

So.

The election is over, and to quote from a friends's status update on FB (you know who you are!):

"After all that hoo-ha, wayangs, song and dance, drama and tears, its finally over and the dust has settled. The sun still rises in the east and life goes on"

Apparently she has gone back to her couch to catch up with her Korean drama series. With the election over, I still have to wait for a month or so to get my name re-registered. If ever.

 And as for Singapore, there is no change of the ruling party, which is of no surprise to me.
Anyhow, I came across this interesting blog post of someone who has had a first hand experience of being one of the counting agents at the pollign stations. I thought it to be a very insightful and a well-written post.

While it is very interesting to be able to understand the type of votes which people had cast, but in the same breath, I find it really disturbing to know on how the decision on whether or not to validate the vote was being made!

I especially liked the "Go to Hell" voting piece. Hilarious to encounter if you are the counting staff, but scary to know that at some places, it can be considered as a valid vote.

Source: Yawning Bread dot wordpress dot com

You really have to read this post here to get what I mean.

From bottle to sippys

Earlier this month, I realised that we may need to seriously start thinking about weaning Spud off the bottle. Apparently, it is best to do so before she turns one.

I honestly did not think that it is something I should be worried about. After all, we started introducing the Sippy to her when she was about 5 months old. And, in the last four months, she has had some “play” time with the sippy in our bid to get her familiar with the thing, so it was a fun thing for her to learn how to use it, especially when she has some sort of schedule when it comes to feeding time.

I should have seen the signs…all this while, she was not too interested with the sippy. And all this while, I thought it is OK and that she’ll get round to it as she refines her motor skills. Then when I started googling on the subject of Sippys recently, I realised that I may be in for another bumpy ride.

Apparently, as one website puts it, moving on from a bottle to a sippy cup is one of the hardest stepping stones for the mother and the baby. Who would have thought!

Having done a little research, I decided to do a small test run by rigorously introducing the current Sippy which we have been using. Spud refuses it flat out, and at this stage, refuses to have anything to do with it. I then decided that I should buy a few types of the different Sippys, just to gauge how receptive she will be to it.

Verdict: My initial attempts at the first few types of Sippys are not looking too good.

Right now, I foresee a repeat of another similar episode with the battle of the bottle we had more than 7 months ago if I have to start taking the bottles away. At the back of my mind, I wonder if it will be worth to risk baby led weaning instead when it comes to get her off the bottles. Or is this just me being kiasu?

Honestly, just thinking about having to do this bottle to Sippy transition gives me the shudder…I wonder if I have the will to go through the cold turkey method again.

Porridge for Breakfast

I had one of this today. In fact, I have been having this McD chicken Porridge every day for the past one week for breakfast. Every.single.day.

Certainly very unlike me to be having porridge for breakfast, let alone having it everyday.

So, what sparked this behavior was the fact that I had felt rather unwell the day after we came back from Holland. I felt ill, and for a few days I could not stomach any food. Everything that came in, went out the same way almost immediately. The sight of food made me nauseous. Except for some water, I did not eat anything at all for a good 3-4 days.

By the third day, despite feeling dizzy and nauseous still, I knew I just had to battle it out and eat something. That was when I remembered that the MCD here sells porridge for breakfast…and at that time it was just what I needed. Good old porridge as a good ole sick food.For a whole 29 Baht.

For a few days more after that, I only had breakfast and not much else after that. I don’t know what happened. I suspect there must have been a stomach bug I caught somehow.

And in case you are wondering, no, I am not pregnant. I cannot be because the time when I first started feeling like crap, my menses had made an appearance after a long hiatus. That being said, it makes me wonder if they were related, because the day my menses was over, I felt better.

And that was when I decided that I actually like the McD Porridge, and since then I have been making a stop-over to buy it as a take-out for my breakfast. I’m sure this is just a phase; as with any other food craze that I have at one point in time, I’m sure that I’ll OD on it soon enough or that they will decide to take it off the shelf! I’m sure this one is no exception.

Such is the story of my life.

9 Months

Every time I put Spud to bed, I swear I can just see her growing longer and longer by the minute right before my very nose.

As of the last weighing-in a few days ago, Spud weighs a decent 7.8 kg and measures 71cm. She stands at an average 50% percentile for weight, and a high 75% top percentile for height. If her height’s not as stunted as me, she is going to be one hell of a tall girl. I certainly hope she inherits that tall Dutch gene (amongst other things), as it is no fun being a katek* like me.

At 9 months, Spud has begun to master the art of blabbering. She yaks loads these days with a good dose of Ta-ta-ta-ta-tas, La-la-la-la-las, Mama (don’t know if she actually knows it), Pappa (don’t think she actually knows it!), a smattering of complains (can’t describe it in words, but you know she’s complaining when you hear it) and giving me big bubbles of “Phbtttfttttt” (the act of blowing bubbles with her mouth, resulting in a shower of saliva, if not food); like the kid in this video.

My eyebrows have also recently become her target --- I reckon she is finding them absolutely fascinating for her to try to pull them out with her pincer fingers. All I have to do is give her a big silly grin and shudder “in pain” when she does that, and that was all it takes for her to break out into her glorious squeals.

She also seems to understand some commands: Like, when I hold my hand out to her and ask her if she would give her toy to me, she will place whatever she is holding onto my palm! Same goes for when I tell her to come to me (she’ll crawl to me).

Spud has also begun terrorizing the cats as she spends hours and hours going after them whenever she sees them. We suspect, somehow she might think that she is a cat; judging by the way she goes on all fours and when she gets close to Fudge (not Andy or Donut as they both bolt out the moment they see Spud coming their way) or us for that matter, she will then say “ahhh” in a soft voice and then rub her head to Fudge’s or our faces.

Silver Bullet even caught her in the act as she starts out on one of the cats’ scratch posts and got seriously excited with the bell inside the hanging ball…

It is high time to separate cats’ and Spud’s toy.

(While writing the above sentence, I imagine other parents who are already paranoid of cats with babies cringing and looking absolutely petrified; thinking what kind of parents we are! Not only do we have THREE cats who live together under one roof, we also allow Spud to play with the cats' toys! (No we don't, but we realise that there will be occasions where Spud will just play with it as she does not know any better). How absurd and what kind of parents are we?! To that I'll say, oh well!

On a different note, Spud has certainly has calmed down a lot more as compared to her first few months of life. She smiles and laughs a lot more these days; and when not too cranky, she is a lot of fun to be with. [What are the chances I’m jinxing this by writing this all out?]

She is certainly more confident in pulling herself up using one hand and already started to cruise along with the furniture. She is definitely vocal, and, given her very talkative genes (guess from which side?), I won’t be surprise if she’s going to be talking our ears off sooner than later. Perhaps in a few possible languages too!

As she is exposed to not only English, but a few other languages on a daily basis as well, it will be interesting to see the languages and accents she will be picking up! Just imagine: She hears my smattering, half-baked Malay and sometimes Singlish, Silver Bullet’s sometimes forgotten Dutch on a revival mode, the Nanny’s heavily accented English in a Filipino accent, as well as the occasional Thai from well, Thais around this country and within our apartment building…

Gosh. This is going to be a making of one confused kid.




*Katek means shorty in Malay

The White Room

If there is one sure-fire place where we can get Spud to nap in the day, even if it is for 15 minutes, it has to be this place below.

It is a white, it is bare and it is boring. It is actually the corridor at the Bangkok Dolphin where Spud takes her swimming lesson. At the risk of jinxing ourselves silly with this notion for the next time we try, we have, time and again, managed to successfully get her to nap while we walk back and forth along this corridor. If you call it corridor, that is.

Even when I thought she was not going to nap, she surprised me by eventually falling asleep. Grudgingly, but nevertheless asleep! She did this when I took her for her 2nd make-up class last week. It was a pleasant surprise as I thought  with her class starting at 2pm (bad time!), there was no way she was going to go for a  nap before that (and she usually does not!)

So far, this is definitely one of the more conducive places where both Silver Bullet and I can both get her to take the much needed nap before she starts her lesson. It has worked every time.

Voting is a right

It will be an interesting day for Singapore today, and I am waiting with bated breath to see the outcome of the unanimous decision made by fellow Singaporeans.

Unfortunately, I am only able to be an observer from afar, and,  falling short of coming back to Singapore just for a day to fulfil my obligation, there is no other means of voting from where I am.

You see, more than a week ago, I have actually emailed the elections department enquiring on an alternative way for me to fulfil my obligation as an eligible voter. It took them six days  before they reply me with this email: (OK, so this includes weekend and public holidays, but STILL! that's what emails are for, especially in this crucial moments)

This certainly did not answer my question as to how else I can vote at this point in time; which in my opinion, is more pressing than having my name re-instated into the system AFTER the election has ended, but in time for the next election which will be due in 5 years.

How daft is that?

I certainly do not see voting as a burden, but my right as a citizen of a country I was born and bred in. That being said, I certainly echo the sentiments here.

Sencha Silver Flower tea

I love my tea as much as I do coffee, and can be quite the tea addict. While coffee is more for a perk me up in the morning or after lunch, tea for me is a comfort late afternoon or after dinner “aperitif”  "digestive".It is more comforting in a relaxed kind of way, reminding me of weekends at home with my parents when I was still living with them. Typically, I do like to end my evening with one before I go to bed

Although I am a no tea connoisseur, I do know what I like and what I don’t like. I love chai and Darjeeling and chrysanthemum to name a few, but I can’t stomach earl grey (they make me feel nausea), I hate green tea, and I generally avoid jasmine like a plaque.

So, when my mother-in-law introduced a new blend of tea with jasmine in it, I was surprised that I liked it. It is called the Sencha Silver Flower tea sold by a retailer in Holland called Simon Levelt. It is essentially a blend of jasmine, rose and chamomile. I liked it so much that I probably may have just shamelessly finished off her stash of those Sencha Silver Flowers by having them several times a day while we were staying with them!

The blend smells heavenly and taste really good. I loved it so much that we bought some home. Indeed, it is one of the loveliest teas I ever tasted. After years and years hating jasmine, I surprised myself by actually falling in love with the blend.

I just made one for myself. I wish you can smell its glorious scent and taste its unique blend from where you are.

Learning to be parents

Remember when we first started out with Spud’s first swimming lesson, I said that I’d rather Silver Bullet pick up my slack given my not-so-high-level-of-confidence when in the water?

Well, well! It appears that I have come a long way since.

Believe it or not, I have actually managed to take Spud to her swimming class for a make-up lesson not only just once, but twice now. And, all by myself!

Yep. You read that right, my friends. TWICE. On.my.own. That’s just me, the ever hyper-active and unpredictable Spud, her tote bag and the swimming gears.

[OK. To be fair, Silver Bullet has already claimed that first credit of taking Spud to her swimming lesson by himself when I was away in Singapore for the weekend a while back. I did suggest he take the Nanny along to help, if it makes it easier for him, but he was adamant to want to try it on his own. And he did. And at that time, I have no doubt that he’ll be OK. He will be frenzied and exhausted, but he will be OK. And he was. They both were!]

I’ll be honest and admit that I was jittery in having to take Spud to her swimming class on my own for the first time --- a make-up class for when we were on vacation over Songkran. I mean, despite knowing how to swim, I am still crap at having to deal with water in the pool and having to handle a potentially crabby baby while in the water and then, having to clean the BOTH of us up after that , does NOT sound like a good combination in my mind! Like me, Silver Bullet suggested that I could always ask the Nanny along. Like him, I just wanted to give it a go by myself and felt the 'high" that I, too, like most parents, can do this without any external help. So there we were: Nervy me trying to act cool, unpredictable Spud with her curve balls, and then there’s this other little me praying for my own sanity that:

a) Spud is not going to be super cranky, leaving me to deal her extremities in public,  and
b) My lack of confidence is not going to get the better of me when handling Spud in the pool

So yes, I think I have come a long way. Slowly I’m gaining the confidence of handling Spud while in the pool.

Spud goes underwater!

I guess as Teacher Turtle pointed out, the swimming lessons are not always necessarily for the babies, but essentially teaching the parents alike on how to properly handle their babies in the water safely. And typically, in doing so, gain more confidence for the child to get better at learning how to swim confidently.

Ahhhh....such is life learning experience.

I am definitely getting better at this parenting thing.

Or rather, I'm definitely getting better at looking super collected and cool while attempting to mask that lack of parenting skills!

An ode to those in Advertising

This has been going on the internet for a while, and I had lifted this off an acquaintance's notes she posted on FB. This gives me a bit of a chuckle, and I thought it is an appropriate ode to those who were and still are in advertising!

She used to work in Advertising, She's done her time in Hell!

Last night as I lay sleeping
I died or so it seemed,
Then I went to heaven
But only in my dream.


Up there St. Peter met me
Standing at the pearly gates,
He said, "I must check your record
Please stand here and wait."

He turned and said "Your record
Is covered with terrible flaws,
On earth I see you rallied
For every losing cause."

I see that you drank alcohol
And smoked and used drugs too,
Fact is, you've done everything
A good person should never do.

We can't have people like you up here
Your life was full of sin,
Then he read the last of my record
Took my hand and said "Come in."

He led me up to the big boss and said
"Take her in and treat her well."
She used to work in Advertising,
She's done her time in hell".

The one with pumped milk...

...is about to retire.

Up until now, Spud has been on exclusive pumped breast milk and only recently did I consider of switching to the dreaded powdered milk. I’m (still) in two minds about going on formula, but I guess, 7 solid months has been a really long time to be pumping whilst at work since the breast-feeding days.

With what I have done, I am now a firm believer of demand and supply of breast milk. Relating from my own experience, it no doubt, requires a great deal of commitment, dedication and discipline.

The only way to regulate the supply is frequent pumping, and for me, that could be up to 8x-10x a day, just to keep up with Spud’s demand. I had a very rough start at breastfeeding, which had convinced me that I was being manipulated to go straight to formula. It was highly frustrating and I can only empathise as to why most women tend to give up, as it is only too easy to convince oneself that they really did not produce enough.

Merely from my experience alone though, I’d like to stress that it is possible to produce (more than) enough and that the notion of “just not having enough milk” can be overcomed. Only, one has to really have to work hard at it. That being said, I can now attest to the fact that, unless one is diagnose with a medical condition or just happened to be in a very unfortunate position that is beyond one’s control, I have to say that I agree with the sentiments of “Never think you don’t have enough milk or let anyone tell you that you don’t have enough”.

While I cannot tell you enough that commitment, dedication and discipline are the biggest component of it all, my feat will also not be possible without the help of a very good pump and a very supportive spouse to cheer you on. I am also glad that for my cause of advocating breastfeeding, I managed to get the much needed support from various Moms’ groups, as well as my employer who provided me a place to retreat for a pumping session and colleagues understanding and flexible enough to accommodate to my frequent pump breaks.

Daunting as the task of having to pump may be, I feel very fortunate to be able to experience this journey and certainly glad that I have been able to supply Spud with my own milk for more than 6 consecutive months. Imagine the money I saved on formula milk as well!

With a little bit of chagrin, I have slowly started introducing the Stage 2 formula into the pumped breast milk in the last few days. While Spud appears to have no problem taking in the formula-breast milk combo, it did take a bit of persuading to get Spud to ingest the 100% yukky formula. She hated it and literally spat it out the first time I gave it to her whole. I can’t blame her, that darn thing tastes horrid!

My supply should last for a few days more if I continue mixing them , but nevertheless, I am glad that she eventually took the 100% powdered gunk.

With the eventual introduction of formula, I believe, it does mean that my pumping days will soon be over. I wonder how long before I begin to dry out as I start decreasing my pumping frequency.

It is almost nostalgic to begin thinking that very soon (I hope), there will be no more breast milk bags to fill up. You can say that I have mixed feeling about this…somewhat slightly sad I’m not ploughing on (isn’t it best to give breast milk till one year old?) but at the same time, “lifted” (my boobs are mine again and I can do other things!). Looking back, I cannot believe I managed such a feat.

I guess it is probably about time to get a little bit of freedom and put my milk-machine superhero duties and part-time pumping job to rest.

I reckon I have done my dues.

[Glorious caffeine, here I come!]

On the spot

I was idling away my few minutes while waiting for my colleague and stumbled upon this piece while flipping through a fashion and beauty magazine:

I can't help but took a snapshot of it with my camera phone. If that's a bit blurry to read, it says this:

"Dissolve aspirin in a little water and dab pimples with a cotton pad to calm the irritation and tone down the redness"

I don't know how much of that is true, but I'm inclined to give it a go one of these days as I think I'm undergoing another stage of puberty! Darn zits.