Hello another year!

Another year is about to bustle to a close in a matter of hours, and another year added on to our years living in Bangkok.

The end of the world prediction day came and went, and we all lived to see another day. Still, 2012 has been nothing short of being another eventful year - from spending the entire half a year being uncomfortably pregnant once again, to experiencing motherhood for the second time, to experiencing violent rejection from my first-born, to facing some serious challenges at work, to maintaining some sanity of being a working mother and rolling it with #2,  to Spud going to some play school, to experiencing life with a reflux baby and all the everything-else-in-between.

It is also a year of many, many bouts of colds for the family; annoying colds that keep coming back and never actually go away. It is a year of troughs in highs and lows of being a working mother of two little kids. It is a year of pride and prejudices, of dejection and triumphs, of (mis)givings and contentment, and most important of all, of learning and unlearning.

My kids continue to remind me of how everything around us contains magic, and that we are perpetually surrounded by the mystery and wonder in life. My daughter taught me patience that I thought I never had and my son reminds me that there's always something to smile about every day. My husband remains my pillar of strength in my darkest hours and together, we are still trying to make sense of things - and how we could have make sacrifices and given up so much of us and still be happier for it. My cats provides me their unconditional love when it suits them.

2012 has been quite a journey, and we'll continue to contemplate our mysterious and exciting journey into 2013 - come what may.

To those who have been following my blog - stalkers and all,  I really do hope you have thoroughly enjoyed reading my ramblings as I have enjoyed writing them. Thank you once again for coming back to this site over and over again. May we continue to learn and unlearn and to remember that whatever we do, we must never, ever stop learning.

We'll probably be fast asleep before midnight, but here's us in Bangkok wishing you a fabulous 2013 with a promise of many more of my ramblings to come.

 Happy New Year, world!

Saying thank you

When I saw this article on thank you being the hardest word, I am being reminded once again how easy it is for people to forget to say such simple words to show some appreciation.  The one thing that jumped up to me is in the last bit of the article – “thank yous have to be sincere”

I am, for one, a big believer of not only in the power of saying thank you sincerely, but saying it in the form of a thank-you note – be it in an email, a thank you card or even simple hand-written note on a post-it. I know how a sincere and heart-felt “thank you” being said to me can make me feel. As such, I don’t doubt for one second what those words can do when I say it as I really meant it to the people I work with, especially so to my subordinates. 

“Thank you” can indeed be the hardest words, but I reckon, if you say it often  enough (and  as sincere), it comes as second nature to you.

So if you have forgotten to say your thank yous, it never is too late to start.

"Us" Day

Every once in a while Silver Bullet and I always make it a point to have an “us” day. It usually is a random day within the week in which both of us would be taking a day off work just to do whatever without the kids.

Usually dressed in our most comfy attire of the day, we’ll make it out of the house at our usual time when we leave for work and leaving the kids with the Nanny. We take the day easy – starting with a nice little breakfast and followed by with no concrete plans at all. Sometimes we walk around and window shop aimlessly, then go for a much needed foot massage, or sometimes, perhaps catch a movie.

Last we had our “us” day, we started the day with a hearty breakfast, followed by a little last minute Christmas shopping (we were half an hour too early, and we had to wait outside as the mall was still closed!),  caught The Hobbit at the theater (awesome movie! I remember the book being a lot better to read!), and then grabbing a cup of coffee at our favourite coffee joint.

We ended the day by doing a little grocery shopping before heading home to tuck the kids to bed.

While seeing any parents with little kids on our “us” day would trigger thoughts of our own children, somehow it was not enough to make us miss our kids right at that moment. It sounds absurd, but it is days like these that recharge us – as a couple as well as a parent.

An “us” day for us is as important as having that first meal of the day to keep us going. We are, after all, responsible adults, but we can’t deny ourselves the right to sometimes just dedicate the day just to ourselves to keep our sanity.

A simple breakfast

Watching from the sidelines as we wait for the door of the mall to open at 10 am!

A day like that goes by too quickly - before we know it, 5 pm arrives and it is time to get home.

I am already looking forward to our next “us” day. Soonish.

Ants Infestation

Ants are frickin’ everywhere in our home – in the bathroom sinks, on the kitchen walls, on the bed covered with a freshly laundered (!) bed sheet, in clean diapers, in my clothes and even in the most unlikely place like in a container filled with cotton buds.

Although we do have the occasional bits of food on the floor – thanks to a 2 year-old toddler, it is not like we live in a filthy place where we have crumbs of food all over the apartment to throw these ants a gala dinner.

Where these pesky little things came from, I have absolutely no idea. They are not always there all the time, but I have seen them crawling out of the tiny little holes on the walls or from the floor. They tend to show up just like that, and when they appear, they appeared by the hundreds in several different splotches around the house – it’s like our home has become an ant rest-stop for them enroute to wherever ant farm they come from.

These little pesky creatures bite too. And they bite nasty. We have tried several different methods to get rid of them, but after a few weeks, they never fail to come back to haunt the living daylight out of me.

I hate ‘em ants. I have had an intense dislike for them since I was about 8 years old - I was bitten by a bunch of red ants while playing in a playground one fine day. I remember the burning sensation, the intense itch that got too painful to bear as days went by. It got infected real bad with pus oozing out so bad (I scratched the bite in my sleep) that I could not walk for days on end.  The nasty bite left a gaping hole on my left foot, and to this day, I still bear the battle scar on my foot where the hole which was infected by some useless bunch of fire ants used to be.

I am your classic ant-hater. I would love to learn the know-hows in creating an ant holocaust from readers out there who care to share on eradicating pesky little ants for good!

A mom's promise

This is just too funny....

 

...but I know that the last bit is all oh-so-true.

Listening skills and honesty

[This incident took place at the kids’ department of a shopping mall]

After going on the free merry-go-round ride available at the kids’ section, Spud decided that she was going to let herself loose and started playing, or rather, banging away and pressing all the keys of an electronic keyboard on display that was placed next to the merry-go-round.

Not wanting to condone the act - given that I do not want her to be the last person to be playing on that thing and be the unfortunate one who broke it and us having to unnecessary pay for it, even though other kids were playing with it, I pulled Spud aside, got myself to her level and tried to reason out with her.

Me (in a very gentle voice): Spud. I need you to listen to mama. You cannot play with the keyboard anymore. We have to go, OK.

Spud then looked at me, one hand on the keyboard and the other hand trying to break-free from my grip before replying this: “No. Not listening. Not listening to Mama now”, at the same time shaking her head in such earnest.

She said all that as calmly as she could, with no temper tantrums; complete with eye contact and all.

I was at a little loss for words as her reaction kind of threw me off. I didn’t expect the comment and while I felt a little annoyed that she would not step away from the electronic keyboard, I really couldn’t get mad at her. After all, she’s barely 2.5years old and she was just trying to tell me that yes, she heard me – acknowledged me even - but at that point in time, she felt that she really did not want to listen because she wants to continue playing with it.

I didn’t know how to react, and I could not get angry outright even if I wanted to. At least, to her credit, she was being completely honest with me.

I got where she was coming from - granted, she was only trying to express how she felt and wanting me to listen to what she had to say. Sigh.

Mama's little helper

Spud has been in a "I want to do! I want to do myself!" mode, and this includes her wanting to help feed her little brother his milk when she strongly feels like it.

When Spud knows that Squirt's about to be fed, she gets all excited and wants to be mama's little helper. I sometimes wish she would try to feed herself with the same gusto too...

It is actually quite cute to watch her in full concentration and trying so earnestly to put the bottle into his mouth. The only thing was, she did it as and when she pleased. Which meant that when she felt that Squirt was done, she would then just pull the bottle from his mouth without warning, telling him, "OK. Finish!" and literally leaving that poor little guy flapping away as he got his still-full bottle of milk taken away from him for no rhyme nor reason and just because his sister decided so.

This was soon followed by some screaming (Squirt) and me telling Spud several times to hand me back the bottle so I could feed her little brother. Spud would then offered to help again by shoving back the bottle to him, and then took it away again as soon as the guy started to suck on it. Do this several times more, and you can imagine how frustrating this could be if Spud continues this antic of hers.

I guess her (good) intentions were there, but execution wise...well, not so great! To be fair, her antics and his reaction gave me a good chuckle. Well. Initially. My kids can be such comedians.

Our first school recital

The last day of the school term last week marked a rather eventful day for both Spud and us, as Spud did her very first school recital. On stage. In front of a hundred parents and teachers.

While it was cute and all, I thought the whole thing was a little bit of a rip-off as they charged 450 baht (abt. SGD 18) per parent for admission ticket plus lunch, and, parents had to fork out almost 600 baht (SGD 24) prior to the event to pay for her costume. That totalled to almost 1500 baht (SGD 60) for a 3-hour show listening to kids screeching - I mean LISTENING, as we all booted a wooden ass by sitting on a plastic chair for the entire time.

The "hi-so" looking program

Not quite my idea of fun, but we got into the spirit of celebration soon enough watching all these young brave kids belting their guts out and dancing their feet along to the rhythm of the music that were played. For the amount of money we paid, we were given a rather "classy" program booklet and were served quite a decent lunch after the show.

It was quite a novelty for us to be watching our little tot *trying to* perform and mimic what their teachers do in front of the stage. As most kids stood around, while, perhaps wondering what the hell was going on, they did their part well. At some point, they did what toddlers do best - they jumped and bounced along, on cue, to the parts of the song they knew they should be jumping about. 
 

To be able to witness how Spud reacted in such a situation was priceless – she seemed happy and unaffected and going with the flow, and did not freak out when on stage. When she saw us in the crowd as she made her way back to the dressing room, she grinned away and acknowledged us with a “Mama!” or “Papa!”.  She was comfortable being independent from us during that time and it felt nice. She looked like she had loads of fun while at it.

The kid that stayed put !

It is worth a mention that there was this 2 year-old toddler who was sitting next to me and literally stayed put on the chair for the entire 3 hour session. The only time she got down was to pick up her hat she had dropped and when her Mom moved forward to the stage to take a picture of her son. The sheer fact that a 2 year old toddler sat so calmly in that seat amazed me to no end. I could not help but asked her mother (who was sitting right next to her on the other side) how she managed to get her kid to do that – for there would be no way in hell, we could ever get Spud to sit still in a chair. Not even for 3 seconds. Life really is ain't fair. 

I forgot to bring my point-and-shoot (duh!!, bu tthanks to mobile phone camera, I managed a few snapshots from the event. It was also the very first time she sat on Santa’s lap – the school's tradition for kids at a Christmas recital – and at that point, I could tell that she was not too comfortable sitting on some strange-looking bearded man and wanted to get off as quickly as she could. 

Getting ready to start dancing to "Can't help falling in love with you"

Standing and looking around as the music went on

Queuing up for her turn

Her first Santa encounter

Caught her mucking about in the dressing room before the show - can't help but asked her for a kiss!

My guess is that we’ll certainly be looking at many more recitals to go from here on but this was certainly one of those "firsts" moments to be savoured.

From happy to cringy

Something hit me at about 4pm this afternoon.

All of a sudden, I felt bleahhh.  Bleahhh in a way that, I just don’t feel like doing anything anymore for the rest of the day. I immediately stopped what I was working on, got up from my seat, left my desk, walked towards the middle of the office and with my hands on my hips, declared to one of my colleagues, “Suddenly I don’t want to do anything anymore. I am DONE with this bullshit”

I don’t know where that came from, really. Apart from the fact that silly Christmas songs have been playing in my head all day,  I have been nothing but extremely focused on getting a some things done before I leave the office at 6pm today. Yet, somehow, just like that, something in my head snapped.  

I think the holiday mood just hit me.

Suddenly I felt the springs in my feet, my spirits uplifted and I felt really happy that I’ll be taking a few days off till mid next week. (no Christmas holiday here in Thailand - off days have got to come from the annual leave!) . I packed up quickly and left the office with a surge of super happy energy all around, feeling excited to get home and see my kids as soon as I can.

The moment I got home though (after being stuck in traffic for more than half an hour), I saw something which riled me up completely - the AC in the living room and the foam mats on the floor were pretty much plastered with some sort of cream. Next to the splotches stood Spud, who quickly went “uh oh!” the moment she realised that she made a mess. While there were no opened jar (she cleverly put the jar back in its place, lid half closed), I quickly figured out that she had quietly been playing with Squirt’s jar of Sudo Crème when no one was looking.

I wanted to initially let it go, but when I discovered that the cream went all over the AC vent and the possibility of some going into the filter, I went mad. I was so mad that I punished Spud with no TV time after her shower – something which she was quite upset about at first. While I realised that I was being a little too harsh, I was not about to relent because I was really, really, really angry as Spud knows better that she was not supposed to be playing with any of those creams! Realizing that I was quite angry at her, she calmed down, really listened to me, had her milk, and stared at the blank TV screen quietly while sitting CALMLY on my chair till I was ready to put her to bed after I settled Squirt down.

Things got a little bit more interesting when I went to Squirt’s room to prepare him for bedtime – I discovered that his bed was infested with a bunch of ants! It was the ickiest sight I have ever seen; so icky and disgusting that the sight of those ants clustering on his bed sheet gave me severe goose bumps. I should have taken a picture, but because of all the stress, I didn’t as the Nanny was quick enough to help me clean up. I cringed and I cringed and I cringed,

I have no idea where those ants came from – and according to our nanny, that was the 2^nd time in the day where she had discovered ants’ infestation in his bed. In fact, she had even put on a fresh new bed sheet before I put Squirt to bed. The worst part is, we have absolutely no frickin’ idea where these ants came from. We have had ants’ infestation in our home for months now, but to see them clustering in one of our kids’ bed is just too eerie.

And I hate, hate, hate frickin’ ants! They all need to die!!!

Needless to say, I was stressed. The holiday feeling I had earlier was gone. Now I am just worried sick of my child being eaten alive by ants while sleeping in his cot, alone in his room. I am not so sure I would sleep so well tonight.

Fucking ants.

Long service award

In my now 14 years of being a corporate slave in a cut-throat-dog-eat-dog-industry, I have never, in my life gotten a long-service award, simply because I never really stuck around in one company for long enough to warrant one. At least for nothing more than 3 years, especially in my younger days.

Bad thing?

Not really. At least not in the industry I work in as it is an industry with high turn-over where people change jobs more often and faster than they would be changing their underwear.  In my industry, 2 or 3 years of turn-over (and sometimes even shorter!) seems to be the norm. “Job-hopping” after about a year is never quite considered a bad thing, especially if one is being poached with higher salary and better prospects. “Interviews” were merely chat sessions over coffee and, before you know it, an opportunity knocks and the money and/or career opportunity beckons you to “jump ship”.

So, when I was reminded that I will be hitting 5 years of service in my current organization come January 2013, I don’t know what to feel about it. The long service award label seems like a pretty big thing as the organization made an effort to remind and reward the “veterans” for their contribution towards the company.

While I have done various roles within the company which, in more ways than one, prevented me from staying in my comfort zone for too long, 5 freaking years in the same organization is a damn long time. I even surprised myself - I have, actually, for the first time in my life managed to stay put for 5.bloody.years.

That is just wow.

On the other hand, I don’t know if it is a bad thing or a good thing that I haven’t moved out of the organization in such a long time. It is not as if I am not being challenged in my current role; far from it - but it suddenly felt like an alarm bell: snooze or make a concerted effort to get out. While I did get random calls every once in a while to explore new opportunities, I never really pursued hard as I was either pregnant or just about to give birth. So, the 5 year mark kind of felt like a rude shock; as if I have been tasered that I need to start putting myself out there again.

I guess I am just being paranoid.

I got gold (what’s with Thais and gold?!) for my long service award, and given that I cannot quite appreciate the look of yellow gold on me, I might just pawn it off for cash. The other good thing about getting a long service award with my current organization is that I am now entitled to take a sabbatical leave.

A whole ten days of sabbatical leave to be used before 2014. I guess I should be so lucky - at least I don't get some lousy photo frame like some of my ex-colleagues from other organization.

Monsters in the cupboard

Our cupboard in the living room is full of junk. No matter how hard I try to keep it as organised as I can, it ends up being cluttered all the time, as, all other things and little knick-knacks that do not have their own place in the various parts of the apartment, somehow ends up in there.

While looking for other things in one of the shelf the other day, I came across this:

I had to chuckle when I saw that. No wonder at one point in time, Spud went berserk when she tried to tell me there IS a monster in the cupboard, post her Halloween Party celebration at school.

So there really IS a monster in the cupboard. I guess she knew what she wanted then and was having a rather hard time trying to articulate that to me.

And I thought I knew it all! I guess, I just didn’t know any better. 

Ooops.

Give a little love

Videos like this restores my faith in humanity. I could only hope that we, ourselves, continue to do this more often than wait for other people to do it first.

After all, kindness begets kindness, wouldn't you think so? (And I love the song that they used for this video)

Overcrowded Singapore

Covering an area of only 710 km², Singapore now has over 5 million people - slightly more than 1.5x more people since I left home more than 7 years ago.

I thought that there were already too many people in the tiny city when we were slightly less than 4 million occupants, and looking at the recent pictures posted by friends on FB, I am convinced that the city is now just super-overcrowded.

The crowd, as captured in the images below are pretty insane. With the majority of the population being extremely dependent on public transport to commute to work, I cannot imagine having to battle through this crowd day-in, day-out.

Imagine standing bum-to-bum, face-to-bum or head-under-someone's-smelly-sweaty-armpit...or if you are a parent, battling through this crowd with young children, bags and stroller in tow. With such a crowd, molesters, perverts and pick-pockets can easily get away with murder.

Singapore's (used-to-be-efficient) infrastructure is bursting at the seam. This is just not funny.

A perspective

Every time we take Spud to a playground, it amazes us as to how eager and how quickly Spud finds herself a play mate. If there are other kids around, she would already be playing with one or two (usually older) other kids and chasing each other around. It is not like they knew each other before, but somehow they just clicked.

They played together, they helped each other, and they waited on one another for the next big slide with no care in the world. Such a joy to see them play and interact.

And when it was time for us to go, we would often encourage Spud to say goodbye personally to whom she was playing with, after which she says her byes with a parting “see you later!”

 Such is the sweet innocence of young children. 

And as Silver Bullet and I discussed our observations, we can’t help but ponder at what point do kids become discriminatory. When do they start being judgmental and at what point do they start to discriminate other kids? That being said, how much of those behavior is a function of parenting and what they have been exposed to within their immediate environment.

One thing I learnt though, kids certainly teach us about living in the moment. As adults, we seem to lose that ability.

Upgrading Spud

At barely 2.5 years old, Spud has recently been upgraded to a big bed - a super single to say the least as it was the only "smaller" bed size the apartment has provided.While we were in no hurry to move her to a big bed since the last transition from cot to toddler bed, we soon found it necessary because:

• she was getting too tall for her toddler bed
• her brother's cot bed, in the meantime was getting a little narrow for him

Needless to say, Spud was quite reluctant when we first planted the idea in her head. For several days, she insisted on sleeping in her cot bed - perhaps mainly for familiarity - even though we placed the big bed right next to her toddler bed.

It was only after her toddler's bed was removed completely out of her sight did she become more receptive of the new arrangement. To convince her to sleep in her new bed, we made it fun for her by telling her that not only we all could cuddle up together in bed, all three of us, with her in between as we read her bedtime stories - something which was not possible before - we also told her that there is a bigger space for her to jump about and roll around! The latter being the deal clincher.

With that,  the transition to such a big bed was not as difficult as we thought it would be. She took to it quite easily and we were again pleasantly surprised.

Such a small girl in a such a massive bed. When we found her sleeping her usual froggy style with her favourite bear right next to her, we can't help but line up all her other favourite companions along side each other and took a picture of it.

My little girl is growing so fast.

12.12.12

Everyone was raving about this date yesterday. Somehow the entire world was celebrating the significance of this awesome, once in a life-time date and makes every effort to make it so extra special. Others, like me, pondered what was so special about this date apart from the fact that it is just a bunch of numerics.

But. Yesterday turned out to be quite significant alright! Not in a super-special, heart-melting, gaping in awe moment, but rather in a crazy-all-over-the-place- I-am-trying-very-hard-to-hold-things-together- frenzy-before-I-go-insane to ensure that things (or me) did not fall apart as Murphy decided to stick around from the weekend.

First, Silver Bullet took the bacteria-laden-baton from the kids and spent the entire day and night on the eve of 12.12.12 hugging the toilet bowl puking his guts out. Not sure sort of bug Silver Bullet had caught, but it was so bad that he was vomiting blood. Needless to say, neither of us got much sleep that night (thankfully the kids were out like a light!), and we both woke up that morning looking worse for wear.

Silver Bullet was pretty much out of commission. And, it is days like this that made me realised how useless I am with my non-existent driving skills. It is days like this that I wish I had learnt how to drive to continue to   get things going. No time for regrets (I keep telling myself I need to learn how to drive one of these days) - as, granted, things still need to be done, Spud still needs to be sent to school and it is imperative that someone needs to drive Silver Bullet  to the hospital. There just was no way in hell I was going to let him go on his own in the state he was in.

So it was a crazy busy day.  I scrambled along before the crack of dawn to get myself ready, get the kids showered and dressed (while making sure that Silver Bullet was not going to lift a finger ), prepared their first meal of the day, bolted through the front door to send Spud to school, accompanied Silver Bullet to the hospital, came back home to drop him off and picked a pair of concert tickets to be re-sold, then dropped it off to the buyer, rushed to the office, attended several meetings, did some work, left the office slightly earlier to pick up some Christmas gifts for the upcoming Christmas exchange in the office,  rushed home to check if everyone are still breathing, cooked, put the kids to bed, had some dinner and continue to do some urgent work before we hit the sack.

And oh. The tickets I mentioned about earlier was actually for a pair of tickets we bought circa a month ago when we found out that Sting was performing live in Bangkok on 12.12.12. Even though Silver Bullet thought I should go without him, I figured, it would be impossible for me to enjoy myself knowing that my other half was suffering in misery at home, sick as a dog. We both were quite bummed, and looking at how miserable Silver Bullet was, we had to give the concert a miss (with much regret). At least we managed to get the tickets sold, and that we someone else was enjoying the musical genius on our behalf.

On our part, we could only hope that there will be another time, and another place to watch Sting live

As it turned out, 12.12.12 was more eventful as than I could ever anticipated it to be.

Fresh red rubies

Pomegranate fascinates me.

I love how nature designed the fruit consisting of hundreds of juicy, crunchy seeds that glisten like red rubies when they are fresh. Those seeds provides me with endless hours of self-entertainment - I like to devour them by attempting to eat just one seed at a time, squeezing out those crunchy bits and let the juices do tiny little explosions in your mouth. 

I feel like I am writing food porn - but that is just what it is to me with pomegranates.It is also one of those fruits I would love to introduce to my kids when they are a little bit older, mainly to keep them busy.

According to wiki, Pomegranate juice provides about 16% of an adult's daily Vitamin C, and is a good source of Vitamin B5. It is also listed as a high fiber  - which is entirely contained in the edible seeds and supplies unsaturated oils.

Like the freshly squeezed orange juice widely available from the mobile-cart vendors, pomegranate juice is also available in the same fashion, although not usually sold by the same vendor. I am always amazed as to how the vendors painstakingly squeeze the juice by hand using only a simple metal "juice squeezer". 

Worth the 40 baht to quench your thirst if you happen to get a freshly squeezed fruit that is actually sweet. Sometimes it can be a hit and miss.

 

Murphy's visit

The last few days have been nothing short of being manic.

From being extremely busy and relentless days at work with no room to breathe, to not being able to come home on time to put my kids in bed because I could only leave the office  at 9pm on a Friday evening, to realizing that I had yet again lose my ATM card for the 2^nd time in  2 weeks and then riling myself up at 10pm trying to get the card suspended because I cannot remember when was the last time I had used it, only to be put on hold for 10 minutes listening to Thai music in an automated answering service to sneezing my head off…

When my head finally hit the pillow on Friday night at 11pm, I could not have been more relieved.

But Murphy had other plans for our Saturday.  The madness began at the break of dawn – our sleep rudely interrupted by a wandering, energetic toddler who was ready to start her day. Her cheerfulness was soon replaced by whines, cries and tantrums as she complained of stomachache. She then threw up all of her breakfast as soon as she finished her bowl of cereal, and with all the madness happening (Squirt was also pretty cranky this morning), we almost could not make it to the kids’ swimming lessons in time.

When we got to the pool, we soon realised that we forgot to bring Squirt’s pumped milk which we already prepared. A big problem there, considering that Squirt had not fed very well in the morning AND that he doesn’t really want to take the breast anymore. The only consolation was that I brought my pump along and I was able to squeeze a little of pump time to make Squirt’s food while he was in the pool with his Papa and I got help from a fellow parent-friend to mind Spud.

Spud also threw up in the midst of her swimming lesson and continued complaining about her stomach from then on. When she fell asleep in the car on our way to do some groceries (during the day!), it was a definite sign that Spud was a little under the weather.  We did not think that she had it bad, and so continued with our plans to do our usual lunch and grocery shopping.  I decided that I was going to be the one to be wearing her in the wrap.

Bad mistake.

While waiting for our coffee, Spud felt sick and before I knew it, she was throwing up on me. 5.consecutive.relentless.times. I could feel the warm liquid and the remnants of soggy Pepperidge fish crackers splattering on my chest and trickling down INSIDE my shirt and my stomach. Needless to say, I was soaked with puke... Spud had change of clothes and I didn't.  I smelt like rotten feet and looking fantastically fabulous covered in my daughter’s puke right at the entrance of a supermarket while waiting for coffee. The wrap I had on me was the only thing that had prevented her puke from going everywhere. I was beyond words. And at the state that I was in, I might as well laugh about it - so Silver Bullet took a picture, grab our coffee and then we hurried home.

Very glam me!

Meantime, Silver Bullet had his share of sour puke courtesy of Squirt – which certainly was not as bad as a toddler’s puke.

I had thought Murphy should have been satisfied by the wonderful work she cut out for us. But we should have known better, for soon after when we got home, Silver Bullet discovered that one of the cats have actually shat in our room. On.our.bed. And the deed was cleverly covered up with our crumpled duvet cover.

Perfect.More unnecessary work.

The day continued to be a little rough for the rest of the day with 2 cranky and whiney kids. We were knackered, but I guess, we have come to a stage where we could handle them a little better as we know what to expect.

We don’t expect the night to be easy, but we both couldn’t be happier when 6pm arrived; for when it comes to days like this when the kids get a little under the weather, both Silver Bullet and I strongly advocate earlier bedtime.

7pm is bliss. We can finally put our feet up in peace when we are done with the chores that needed our attention. One of which included a laundry chore of cleaning up putrid vomit from the day's event.

I have said it once and I will say it again - there is no dignity left when you are a mother. 

The Shang-story

Shangrila Hotel by the riverside has got one of the best brunch, lunch and dinner buffets in Bangkok. Although, prices don’t come cheap, it still is one of the best places to go once in a while or for special occasions.

While we have heard that they have a very kid-friendly area and it is a popular venue amongst expats during the weekend, we have never ventured there with the kids in tow. And so, when Silver Bullet’s parents came by for a quick visit one weekend, we decided to take them there for a nice little brunch – with the kids.

Spud was just too happy to run along to the play area which the restaurant had set up when we got there. Unfortunately, being a "kid-friendly zone" in Thailand does not necessarily mean hazard-free.

Not only had theyset up a small buffet corner for the kids next to the play area (which was fine), they also had placed several open fire underneath the chaffing dishes  Shocked at what I heard when my father-in-law told me about it, I thought we ought to inform the management to complain about it.

I was appalled to see how they had set it up – every chaffing dish had an open fire underneath them and lots and lots of steam were coming out of a few of the chaffing dishes  as kids continued running around in that confined space. 

It was one of the most ridiculous sights I have ever seen.

Call me paranoid, but, in my mind, it would only take one second of sheer carelessness on the kids’ part – intentional or not – and they could get terribly hurt.

Unfortunately, even though the complaint was acknowledged by one of the staff, it fell onto deaf years. 2 hours later, the chaffing dish were still there, and so were the fire underneath them (a few closed up with aluminum foil), still steaming away next to oblivious little kids.

I guess this is one of those "This is Thailand" moment. Nothing ever changes even when there is a clear need to. And when it comes to safety, posh and reputable places or not, every place and everything is just an accident waiting to happen.  

Amazing Thailand.

Our claim to fame

This is a little bit of an overdue news, really.

Not quite a claim to fame in a big way, but heck! we were featured in the November Issue of Bambi (Bangkok Mothers and Babies International) magazine!

One was from the 2013 Baby Wearing Walk, and the other were pictures I had submitted in one of their featured photos themed around Baby Wearing. Both were featured in different pages of the same issue of the magazine.

If you look closely at the 2nd picture above, there is this one image featuring the four of us (top left hand corner). I have contacted the photographer to send me the picture in a hi-res jpeg version (not free!) since a few weeks ago, and am still waiting for it.

I really love that shot, and can't wait to get my hands on it.

A mom's wisdom

[This post is dedicated to my mommy friends who are looking for strength to get through some of their darkest moments] 

It is always heart-wrenching to hear stories of babies having to go through surgery that has to be done under general anesthetic. After several months of being on medication to fight off the infection in the hope of preventing any surgery since Baby K was six weeks old, the inevitable had mandated that a surgery would be necessary.  

Any surgery, no matter how minor, would always be the cause of anxiety, and as mothers, the worrying never stops. I cannot imagine how painful, terrified, not to mention stressed, a mother (or any parents for that matter) would feel under such circumstances. Tears welled-up in my eyes as I read her email – feeling the pain of a mother’s weeping heart.

Nevertheless, the said mommy friend who shared her story spurred another mommy friend to share a tip on coping with such feelings. It brought a lump to my throat reading what she said, and I thought I’d share this with you readers out there. This was what she wrote:

“I was talking last night with one of my best friend whose son went through a surgery when he was a few months old. He needed general anesthesia as well. She said that to cope with the stress and to reassure him (and needless to say to make herself feel better too), she decided to consider the day of the surgery as just another day. Instead, she focused on the day after the surgery, celebrating with him and his great health with presents, treats and a bag of new toys.

She said it gave her a new perspective. Surgery became the minor point, as she became so excited preparing for his return with them back home.”

This mom then continued with her words of encouragement:

“Your son is tough, make him see the surgery as a little thing - he will have completely forgotten about it right after. The doctors told you it is minor, so no worries. When he grows up, he will hate you recalling on how you were worried with it. He’ll be giving you the teenager eyes "please mom, you know it was nothing -  I don’t even remember it at all"”

She then ended her note with this:

“This month is full of celebrations, between Xmas, Hanukkah, Loy Kratong, make it Baby K’s day on Friday, to congratulate the super boy and welcome his perfect health :)”

That lump in my throat made me teared a little bit. Just a little, little bit - I tried really hard keep that "I'm tough and I won't cry look!",  as I was reading the mail at my desk.

It is stories like that that keeps one going. It is a nice piece; a story that allows you to take on a different perspective in life. One thing that strikes a chord with me is the fact that she mentioned on the month of December being the month of celebration. It made me take a step back and realized what she said was so true; but I have been so wrapped up in my own little corporate-busy-world that I had failed to see that. I ought to be so ashamed of myself.

Such is the virtue of a mother’s wisdom.It is sometimes just the strength and support pillar we need to get through some of the darkest hours of motherhood.

As for our dear mommy friend, Rice Paddy Field, our thoughts and well-wishes are with you and looking forward to see Baby K bouncing about in the next few days with his brand new butt!

Melting men

Here's an image I found trolling around Facebook which I thought is a good picture to convey that life's too short to take things too seriously...

I actually thought that this in itself  is quite a cool image. Makes me wonder who'd be bothered to make hundreds of figurines made of ice - must be a very cold place, this.

Disconnect to connect

When it comes to developing creative ads, the Thais are pretty known for their creativity.

I came across another ad originating from Thailand which I really, really like. The tone, manner, emotions and the way in which the story was told moved me. It speaks the exact sentiments I feel about using the mobile phone in general.

But.But.But.The ad left me a little confused - especially considering the nature of business from the advertiser!

 

I mean, excuse me - are you not selling your services as a telecom provider - both air time and band width - and you are telling your consumers not to use their phones? Huh?! 

Or maybe I'm just missing something.

6 months

We have all made it halfway to the baby’s first year.

Again.

That is an equivalent of six months, 24 weeks, 181 days and 4344 hours since Squirt was born – and this little man is just growing, growing, growing and growing. And that in itself is another achievement.

Squirt had a growth spurt for about 4-5 days when he was 5.5 months old. No amount of milk could satiate his hunger, drinking as much as 900 ml of breast milk every day. I seemed to be never ending as I barely could keep up with pumping, and so we started to increase the amount of solids we have been giving him. Even before he got to 6 months, he is already capable of finishing up one jar of Earth’s best, and still consuming more than 800 ml of pumped milk.

"Lucky Butt"

At 6 months now, Squirt has finally mastered rolling from front to back, and back to front. He is a very busy baby these days. He seems to be gaining a little bit of mobility while on his stomach, and is able to turn himself around in various directions while on it. We have noticed that he is trying really, really hard to move himself by pushing his arms up and using his knees and toes to move along as if he is crawling. It’s not like he can crawl yet, and sometimes, he gets frustrated after a while after trying so hard. No signs of him sitting up on his own just yet.

Apart from crying, Squirt has also expanded his attention-getting repertoire by wriggling, making all sorts of noises and even screaming – especially when you take his toys away from his grasps or if he dropped his toys and could not reach for it.

The thing with Squirt is, unless something is wrong, he is not much of a crier. He is usually smiling, happy and explodes bags of laughter. He loves being spoken to, and every time he saw Spud running around like a maniac, he follows her intently with his eyes while making some incoherent sounds excitedly. I bet he is talking himself in to becoming like his fearless, bundle-of-energy sister!

With some form of sleep training and since starting him on solids, Squirt’s been sleeping quite consistently through the night. The only thing we currently are not too happy with is the fact that he tends to be quite an early riser –  waking up and ready to start his day before the crack of dawn at 4.58 a.m! When that happens though, we usually just let him be – and sometimes, when we are lucky, he’ll fall right back to sleep till about 6 a.m.

Squirt’s certainly learning that he can swallow bits of pureed jarred food and cereal we give him for lunch and dinner, but not his teddy bears. And so far, still no signs of any teeth just yet.

Squirt's quite a different baby from Spud. He'll probably be just as a handful as Spud is, but at this point in time, we can't complain.  We are truly thankful that he naps several times a day for at least half an hour in his own bed. He is, all in all, quite a pleasant little thing. 

Related post(s):

Spud's 6 month's update