Ha!

Pre-delivery days, I was having lunch with an old friend and one of the topics that came up was how T was such an easy baby to care for and I was hoping that K will follow in his footsteps and be an easy baby to jaga as well.

The friend's reaction? "Ha! 世界上哪里会有这么好的事, 所有的便宜都给了你占去?" Not exactly word for word but the gist is there; that I wont be so lucky to have 2 easy babies to take care of.

Despite her tendency to make me jump out of my skin with her yells and addiction to the pacifier, K really is a sweet baby to have, especially when she is in a mellow mood and makes all these cooing sounds. Mummy goes 'awwww' when this happens. *meltz*

Well Ms Extra-Terrestrial, luckily for my sanity and unfortunately for your prediction, you were wrong! 傻人有傻福, 谢天谢地。。。

Sleepless Nights and Sleepless Days

So the Husband had to work late last night and I had to take up night feeding duties alone. As T was bunking in our room with the A/C on, I decided to save on the electricity bill a little (last month's bill post - confinement nearly gave the Husband a coronary. . .) and brought K into the room with us.

Remember how K has this unnerving tendency to yell her head off even before she is fully awake? Well, the tendency has not gone away and last night was no exception. Only thing is, her yells were loud enough to wake the dead or in this case, her big brother. T usually sleeps very soundly at night and nothing short of a thunder storm (which he is super afraid of) can wake him up. That was why I took the gamble of putting K who is not sleeping through the night yet in the same room as T. Unfortunately, K has a power set of lungs and managed to wake T when she started yelling.

Luckily enough, T is not a grouchy riser and the first thing he did when he woke up to the first notes of K's yells was instinctively to search for the pacifier and stuff it into the perpetrator's mouth. This happened not once, not twice but three bloody times and Mummy is in a grumpy mood today cos she is worried abt her firstborn's lack of sleep. These are unfounded worries though, cos T seem none the worse for all the disturbed sleep last night.

Lung Power

K has developed a rather disconcerting habit lately of screaming at the top of her lungs before her eyes are even fully opened as she wakes up from naps.

As u can imagine, this makes people around her (i.e. moi) jump, especially if one minute she is sleeping soundly in her day bed and the next minute she is yelling her head off. More so if I am somewhere else in the house doing chores.

The other member of the family, Furgie is unfazed by it though. Probably because she has also given K a run for her money by making the latter jump with her barks when folks pass by our door.

Who needs a defibrillator when u hv K?

How Do I Love Thee?

To all papas out there, Happy Father's Day!! It's your special day today where your kiddies give thanks for all the hard work that u have put into the family. Kinda like Thanks-giving, except without the turkey and burning of ovens worldwide.

 

This blog entry is dedicated to the silent hero in my house - Mr YSY. Counting this year, we have been married for 7 years and parents for 4 years. How time does fly...

 

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways:

1. For being the stoic pillar of support when I am down and needs assurance that things will be ok
2. For being a calm anchor on days where my Aries side shows and I am being ditzy/unrealistic/impractical
3. For quietly tolling for a better life for the family in the rat race that is Singapore
4. For quietly getting things done without asking for anything in return
5. For being a father figure to T and giving him that kick up the a** when discipline is needed
6. For nights of staying up to feed K though u hv to get up early for work the next day (World Cup matches notwithstanding)

 

And So The World Cup Starts

FIFA World Cup started this morning.

Call it a coincidence but both my kiddos are born in the same year that the every-4-years Cup is held. This translates into more sleeping time for Mummy as Papa Yeow will juggle a milk bottle in one hand and Baby in the other while his eyes are glued to the TV screen at hours that no woman, man or child should be awake.

Zzzzzz...

Awfully Chocolate

Back in the days when we were dating, my dear husband once bought an Awfully Chocolate cake to celebrate my twentish birthday (oh how distant that number is now...).

At that time, Awfully Choc was a pretty exclusive shop operating somewhere in Katong and not as easily accessible as it it now. Anyway, I fell in love at first bite cos it was pure chocolate heaven. Mmmmmm...

To clarify: this blog is not a plug for the brand - it's for reminiscing certain memories that stood out from when YSY and I were dating. I'm recalling this cos I have a really really strong craving for quality chocolate something during my confinement and as it happens, a dacadent Awfully Choc cupcake landed in my fridge by way of the Husband. Naturally, the cupcake didn't stay very long there.

Not quite sure where I'm going with this blog but I suppose the chocolatey memory is but one of the happy recollections from when we were not bogged down by everyday worries about children, house matters etc. Having moved on to a different stage in life, it is nice sometimes to pull out old memories just to relive those moments. Or maybe it is just the boredom from confinement. Hee...

Baby Carrots & French Beans

When T was born, I had nurtured dreams of sending him for piano lessons.  Kinda like a younger version of Yanni if u will, minus the maggi mee mope of hair and moustache.. (completely irrelevant note: I do wonder how many bottles of shampoo he goes through each month just to wash those hair follicles...)

Anyway, I digress. From a practical perspective, he will have an extra life skill to fall back on if his day job as a doctor/lawyer/accountant doesn't work out. Personal cultivation-wise, it seemed like a good way to quieten his wilder side down and add a dose of culture. Anyway, it didn't work out in the end because of his baby carrot fingers - short, fat and stumpy. Now, I pen down this description of his fingers with a great deal of affection cos I loved looking at them when T was a baby and to feel those 'baby carrots' curling ard my fingers. It didn't work out cos the stereotype for pianist fingers are long and slender, a complete opposite of the appendages that my firstborn had been endowed with. And so the pianist dreams were shelved...

5 years later and along came K, who was completely different from her big brother: petite (at the time of publication), feisty and *happy dance* blessed with long slender fingers and toes. For lack of a comparable veggie (of which I have a rather limited knowledge of), I liken them to french beans. It's early days yet and I do cherish hopes of sending K for piano lessons for reasons very much different from those for T. But if she is going to sprout a hairstyle like Yanni's, she's footing her own shampoo bill...

Baby Carrots

French Beans

The Maestro with the hor chew and shampoo-ad hair