My Poor Baby...

Apart from the fevers and teething symptoms here and there, K was a pretty healthy baby.

Untill recently. And when the mighty falls, the mighty falls hard.

She came down with bronchiolitis on Tuesday and it made her a completely miserable kiddo, from the fevers (High ones, low ones, Saturday Night - you name it, she has it. Well, except dengue. Choi choi choi!!), phelgmy coughs, running nose, vomiting,  watery eyes yada yada yada...

Medication time consists of at least 3-4 medicines plus a 10 minute session with the nebuliser. Luckily enough she is (a) too fascinated with the new "美美" strapped around her nose and/or (b) too groggy (boo!) from the sickness to put up huge struggles when inhaling the vapors.

Somewhere, I think i heard a piece of Papa Yeow's heart broke as well. He takes every chance to carry K and gives her words of comfort each time after she pukes and gets startled by all the mess on her person.

Me? I will break down after this whole episode is over. Bronchiolitis is something that can turn nasty and messy if not nipped early - my heart aches when K turns her watery eyes on me and is a picture of utter misery and crankiness. But it is more important to get her out of the pits of misery and onto the road of recovery first.

There are many disruptions to our household's routine these few days and Papa Yeow and I are getting by on an average of 4 hours sleep each night, on TOP of all the exciting changes that are coming soon.

Now, can someone buy me a vodka shot pls!?

First Food Foray

For lack of a better blog title, I hereby declare that at the ripe old age of 13months, K is an "adult food" maiden no more!

I'm feeling a little guilt here, a dash of relief there and seeing a ray of light at the end of the Porridge tunnel finally.

So yesterday we made an impromptu pilgrimage to the Mecca of Furniture and Everything Cheap But Easily Spoilt- IKEA to get some stuff and home ideas. Set off at abt 11am which is usually the time K's porridge gets set down in the slow cooker to cook. To cut a long story short: lunch for her yesterday was IKEA pasta and salmon, which was ladden with salt and goodness knows what other kidney-damaging stuff.

1. Guilt - see "kidney damaging" above

2. Relief - no more having to set schedules on what time to cook porridge, add veggies, add protein since it is her primary source of food (not apparent in the favors she like to return in the form of spit out porridge though)

The point of this blog is:
The second-born gets started on many stuff earlier compared to her gor gor.

- adult food (I used to give death stares to anyone *ahem grandma/grandpa!* who dares to try giving T adult food before he turned 2. Even after he did, it was very hard on me to mentally let go and give him adult food...)

- bathtub vs shower (T was enjoying his baths till he grew too heavy for me to plonk down/lift up from the tub; K made the acquaintance of Mr Shower Head shortly after she became bipedal.)

I'm still trying to wrap my head ard the fact that K is taking sodium so young but with 2 kids, every nano-second not spent chopping veggies/mincing meat/boiling stock is oh so precious!

Random Ramblings

It's amazing how a bout of viral flu can bring forth materials for a new entry on my dusty, creaky blogspot (dun ask me what the connection is; maybe the meds for puking and LS-ing brought me to a new high which may possibly be illegal).

Looking at K over the weekend, I was suddenly struck by how she have grown.

A cheeky fun-loving girl stands where the teething monster used to crawl. Super manja too! She cosies up to YSY whenever he is carrying her (which is very frequently I assure u) and beams him a toothy smile (four teeth, to be exact). "Pa-pa!" in different intonations fill the house, which makes me feel murderous cos who was the one who cleaned most of her muck-covered bum? Who gets porridge facials when she hates her lunch?? Why isn't it "Ma-ma!" instead??

Anyway, this K is a vain pot for sure. Her wriggly body stills whenever I put on a 美美 on her head. It's a win- win situation; she looks adorably ridiculous and I get to doll her up without re enacting WWII.

Conclusion: she's hell on wheels when she doesn't get what she wants, but oh so cute in her fun moments. What's a mama to complain about?

A combination of what I have described above - toothy, vainpot and cheeky

Boys and Girls

The differences:

- Boy: perfectly fine being alone in the crib as long as Mummy is in sight or hears her voice.
- Girl: same scenario = the roof gets yelled down. And then some.

- Boy: nary a strand of hair till abt 3 years old (not sure if the constant desperate shaving attempts by parents had anything to do with this)
- Girl: mad scientist hair shortly after birth

- Boy: baby carrot fingers
- Girl: French bean fingers

- Boy: did not start walking or sprouting teeth until after 13 months of age (he did however, learnt to walk before he crawled)
- Girl: crawling and helping to clean the floor at 10 months, cruising and walking 2-3 weeks later

- Boy: a quiet baby (and then the Chatterbox Syndrome arrived with a vengeance in his preschooler years)
- Girl: babble babble babble. Able to identify Mama *happy jig*, Papa and 'thor thor*

- Boy: loves to play football with Furgie
- Girl: machiam see ghost <see 1st point in list>

- Boy: loves strangers and chatting with them
- Girl: stares and stares at them like they have 3 heads (not that she will know how a normal human shd look like..)

- Boy: 'homework' submitted to ancestors, parents, grandparents and whatever old fashioned rubbish....someone that Papa can roughhouse and kick a ball with.
- Girl: pretty dresses! Pretty ribbons! Barbie dolls! Sugar and spice and everything nice! (she does like to play with gor gor's cars compared to her own toys however..)

Apples from the same tree, but definitely apples of different tastes..

The Chronicles of Jackets

In his earlier years, T had a few memorable jackets that I remember well. Even today, I remember vividly the sequence in which the jackets were bought or gifted. The strange things that mummies remember eh? It's a pity that I dont have pictures of T wearing all of them, only a few.

It actually all started when we started bringing him to his ex-nanny at ard 6 months of age, who nagged us to put him in long sleeved PJs. His then wardrobe consisted of only short sleeves (in Spore's hot weather, we thought he would be roasting under long sleeves). In fact, the nanny almost had a fit on the first day we brought him over in the morning cos he was wearing a thin short sleeve shirt!

I was still in audit then and it so happened that my client's office was in Orchard Road, right oppostite a huge Espirit outlet and Xmas sales were going on. Hehe...*evil smirk*

Blame the bad lighting and camera angle, but he is actually wearing his first ever jacket - red hoodie from Espirit (30% off!). The zipper subsequently broke off but I still have the jacket with me, waiting for the day that it will re emerge and get loved by K. Not very likely at this stage though, cos K is too girly *happy dance* and looks sweeter in cardigans (thanks Auntie Sel!). Besides, the jacket is for up to 12 months and K is barely fitting into most of her 12-mth clothing as it is...

Next up: a really cool denim jacket from ZARA (I think) which came after the Espirit zipper broke off and was on discount as well. Rock on baby!! This jacket is also waiting in the wings to come out one day to grace the body of K. Maybe when she can walk properly and will look really cute in tutu skirts paired with this jacket and topped off with Mary-Janes. So chic!

At around the same time where I bought the denim jacket, T was gifted a similar looking jacket during Xmas by Auntie ET. If I didnt remember wrongly, T was wearing the ZARA jacket when we arrive at the party venue and Auntie ET was going "oh oh..." cos the one she bought was almost exactly the same but with a really functional hoodie. This jacket too is in the magic box of jackets waiting to see the light of day again. Its a pity I don't have a picture of the hoodie denim jacket to show.

My second most favourite jacket after the red hoodie cos it is lightweight, easy to go gai gai and memorable cos it was the one I bought him when he first started childcare. 

I didn't really like this cardigan when I first saw it in Mothercare cos the grey material reminded me of the old hospital bed blankets for some reason but got it in the end cos it made him look really Harvard geek - a change from the usual "rugged" look that mama always puts him in,  as Auntie Sel described it. T is still wearing it to this day (its meant for 3-4 year olds)....amazing how a few bazillion rounds in the washing machine can do that to stretchy cotton materials ;P

There u have it - mummy's favourite T jackets!

Fishy Business

The little lady in my home has very strange tastebuds.

Not that she is a finicky eater or anything, but K likes fishy stuff. Literally. And not just the average steamed fish mind u; it's steamed fish with fishy stock e.g. dried oysters, scallops, ikan billis etc.

Take yesterday for example: I was looking for a quick fix for her dinner porridge cos I was tired out from a long weekend's chores. So the stock was made from dried oysters and protein was a piece of threadfin - just dump everything into the slow cooker for it to work its magic.

It could be me but the resulting porridge smelt fishier than ever but K couldn't get enough of it. Considering that she had an early dinner (her milk feed was abt 2 hours ago), the little lady was very cooperative in opening her mouth wide for each spoonful waved in front of her, which isn't always the case. If the day's menu is not to her tastebuds, she will turn away after a few mouthfuls (after the initial hunger is gone) or deliberately clamp her mouth shut. Worse, u get treated to a porridge 'mask' if she really really doesn't like it. I've learnt to dodge fast.

Besides all this fishy business, I no longer can eat anything in peace, especially breakfast. Guess who will be in her Exersaucer batting her oh so cute eyelids and hee-heeing at me for a few bites of roti? To keep whatever little peace there is left in the house, K goes down for a nap (or at least, back in the cot in her room) before I can eat lunch or dinner in peace. So far so good...she gets a toy to play with in the cot and I get fungi-free lunch/dinner.

Goodbye Mr Lee

Mr Lew Kuan Yew passed away on 23 March 2015, leaving behind a lasting legacy and a grateful Singapore forever in his debt.

 

I am not here to wax lyrical about how great he was, how great his contributions to our island state were. There are too many articles circulating around Facebook and newspapers for that which has probably been shared to death (no pun intended). He may very well be smiling all the way to wherever dead folks go at the thought of joining his beloved wife again. 

 

I wanted to write this blog as a memory of what has transpired since the announcement of his death. From the 8-hour queues by the public just to enter the Parliment House where Mr Lee's body lies in state, to the anecdotes on how loving he was towards his wife and the red box where he kept his official work, to my visit to Tanjong Pagar CC where he was MP once (the fact that it was within walking distance from my office didn't hurt either).

 

The latest drama brewing in my handphone now is an initiative by SMRT to extend their operating hours till midnight so that people can pay their last respects at the Parliment House. Some idiots on FB took this chance to ask for FOC rides or post comments on how they hope the trains do not break down from overuse. I rate these idiots down there with the idiots who asked when a public holiday will be declared to commemorate LKY's death. I took the chance to lambast the morons who posted stupid comments...

 

A colleague and I went down to Tg Pagar CC to pay our respects to him as well. It was a somber moment as the fact sank in that this much revered (or much feared, depending on which Singaporean you are talking to) powerhouse is gone. Dead just like many other humans before him and plenty others will be, after him. But one thing is for sure: a greater man we will never see in this lifetime. 

 

Bouquets galore (we contributed 6 champagne roses and accessorizing flowers and leaves)

In memory of Mr Lee

  

A picture dedicated to him on his 75th birthday

Thank you sir, for all that you have done for us. Rest in peace, and may your reunion with Mrs Lee be a happy one...